sweetisu

Wednesday, October 27th, 2004

Another Cynical Post

A week or two ago, an online friend/acquaintance from years ago emailed me their wedding pictures. I replied with my congratulations. He then replied immediately with “so what have you been up to” or “how have you been”, something to that affect. In which case I replied with the link to our page, so he can read it instead of me repeating for the gazillionth time of our recent miscarriage.

It has now been at least one week and I have yet to hear from him.

It makes you wonder if (1) people really care, and/or (2) they don’t know what or how to say when something like this happens, or (3) they don’t really give a crap and was just asking “how are you” for the sake of asking and hoped that your answer was “fine” and nothing more, and then leave them alone.

I mean, when someone tells you a tragic/traumatic event like that, you ought to think that people have the decency to say “I’m sorry” and/or “I’m thinking of you blah blah blah”. Even if that someone is someone you barely knew–let alone that person is supposedly your friend. It takes 5 seconds to say that. Guess some people want to conserve that energy for more worthy causes.

I think people just plain don’t care.

Just like when I had the cancer diagnosis.

Or, maybe they do care and don’t want to say anything because if they did, I would be able to notice that they are damn glad that it is me and not them who’s in the shithole.

If you are similar to the aforementioned a-hole and have such traits, I would suggest you go to a store and buy some Compassion, Sympathy, and if you’re lucky, they might carry Empathy too. Trust me, in the end, it will do you some good more than it would for me.

Friday, October 22nd, 2004

They Mean Well

My own mother, who upon hearing my news of miscarriage, said “They always say not to be too active in the early…”

I cut her off with screams of pain “MOM, what does that have to do with me feeling incredibly SAD right now? And don’t you think I feel guilty enough…?”

“I’m so sorry you’re hurting…”

She and dad dropped everything and came a few days later. They stayed a full week. It was very nice having them around. I miss them and miss living close to them. I know she’s hurting inside as much as I am, probably more. Because once again, she cannot protect her daughter from harm and pain (re: hodgkin’s lymphoma). I love her and wouldn’t give anything to change it, but sometimes I wish she would be a little less superstitious and think a little more along the lines of logic and reason.

My cousin, replied with “…maybe you were too tired/exhausted from trip…”

Um, yea. I have never heard of exhaustion being a cause for miscarriage.

Then there’s my mom’s cousin. She insists (that word just has too many s’s!) that my recent mountain climbing — at 4.5 weeks — was the cause. My miscarriage was at 8 weeks. My OB confidently told me that since I did not spot or bleed at all after the Mt. climb, infact I only spotted (tiny amount) the night before, and then only bled the afternoon of the miscarriage, that the real cause was most likely chromosome related.

Add in other insignificant people’s comments, hurtful nontheless, it makes me feel worthless and full of guilt. It will prolong my grieving. It will alienate and produce gaps in the relationships. It makes me hate you for saying those things. Even though you mean well.

One friend summarized it perfectly: I just want them to shut up and hug me.

Wednesday, October 20th, 2004

Not (Easily) Distracted

Today, I am.. I don’t know. Yes. I don’t know how I am today, or any day for that matter. I just know what I am not — pregnant — that’s what I am not.

It seems that I’m stuck in these mixture of feelings and don’t know how to get out of it. I feel very sad and alot of anguish, add in bitterness and anger. It’s probably normal, you say. Yet I have to put up a facade at work, among friends and coworkers. I have to act normal. No one wants to hear what’s on my mind; no one cares how I just want to be alone, yet surrounded with love and hugs. I have to keep going, meeting everyone’s needs (except mine of course), and doing the mundane daily routine stuff.

But for my dear son Sebastian’s sake, for my dear husband’s sake, and probably for my own goodness, I must move on from this stagnant stage. I need to muster the strength to let go and move on. I need to focus on what’s in my life instead of what’s not. To accomplish that, I need to be distracted. Maybe that’ll work.

Monday, October 18th, 2004

Progress?

Now I can say the word “miscarriage” without shedding a river. That’s progress, isn’t it? I hope so.

OB said 40-50% of pregnancies end in miscarriage. Most published studies say 25%, but he says alot of pregnancies end before the woman even realizes she is pregnant. I would imagine those are not actively ttc, and/or women who have irregular cycles. 40-50%!!! That’s very high. How do these other women cope with this?! I’d like to know the secret…

Friday, October 15th, 2004

Heartbroken

What happened to us on October 2nd is the worst that anyone could experience in life. At least I think it is the worst. I’m quite sure you would agree.

I was exactly 8 weeks pregnant. It took a while to conceive, with the help of Clomid nonetheless (2nd round to be exact). We were elated when the second pink line appeared on HPT. Ahh we can finally have sex when we want to, not “Honey, I think the egg’s coming!” scene anymore. We were so proud; I had pooched out already at 6 weeks along. It made it seem all the more real. I had been feeling great except the occasional vomit sessions. So we announced it to all the relatives and friends when we took a trip to my husband’s hometown (on the other side of the globe). I went shopping for the latest maternity fashion.

We returned home from the trip, exhausted and jet-lagged. I started spotting that very same evening. Very tiny, brown. I was not too worried. The next day morning (Saturday), nothing. I was relieved. But not for long. The bottom of the toilet turned to a crimson tide when I went to pee in the afternoon. I called Hubby into the bathroom and pointed to the toilet, wailing “…our baby is gone…..” I felt sick. I felt pain. I felt sad. I felt numb. I felt…anything and everything a Mother would feel after losing her child. Later that evening, after lots of cramping and lower backache, I passed a huge clump of tissue. I held it in my hands and stared for a very long time. I saw the sac, and saw the baby floating inside. S/he had budding arms and legs. I caressed the sac with my fingers. I cried myself to sleep that night. I later found some ultrasound pictures of 8wk pregnancies online and our baby looked just like the other babies. So the pregnancy was progressing fine. Then why did this happen??? We buried the baby and the placenta under our giant cedar tree in the backyard. There’s a makeshift tombstone. I am very heart broken and haven’t been able to stop crying.

Since we had announced to the whole world of our expecting, we must now tell them the sad news. I was shocked and hurt by many of the comments we received. Everyone wanted to “play doctor”. Everyone wanted to tell us that they know the reason why it happened. And everyone told us that “you can have another”. I do not think they realize that babies are not replaceable. I also do not think they realize their comments, although well-intentioned, were very very hurtful, insensitive, and uneducated. I was overwhelmed. If it isn’t for my husband, my mom, and a few TTC online pals, my sanity would have been long gone. So I shut out nearly everyone because I did not want to be hurting any more than I already was.

Hence the start of this blog. Maybe writing will help me get through it. Maybe I will wake up one day to discover all this is just a very bad nightmare. Maybe the sun will shine again.

Below is a nicely written poem I found and modified to fit our plight.