I didn't really have any intention of posting what I'm going through right now. Obviously I have a blog and share a lot about my family, but it's almost exclusively the happy news, smiling pictures, funny kid quotes, and cute stories. I'm not one of those people who posts on Facebook everytime I have an argument with my husband or my checking account is running low. Some things are just nobody's business. But today I read my fellow-SB-mommy-blogger's post titled
"I'm a Monet" about her life looking picture perfect from a distance, but it gets messy when you look closely. Her honesty made me think. When people ask me how I'm doing, I say fine. But right now, I'm not really fine. And there's no real reason to keep that a secret when I can allow other people to pray for me and help me through this.
A couple weeks ago, on a Thursday, I woke up and rolled over in bed and felt a sharp pull that I immediately recognized as round ligament pain. After having two children, I know what round ligament pain feels like, and I know you feel it when you're pregnant. That evening on the way home from work, I stopped to get a home pregnancy test and took it as soon as I got home. When I saw a very clear "Yes" ... my mouth dropped open. *Shock* We were not trying to get pregnant. At all.
I was FREAKING OUT. Three children. Two under two. Georgia is still just a baby ... still nursing. I can barely keep up with the two I have and am still getting used to my full time job. We got rid of all of our maternity and baby stuff. But what really, really terrified me was that I had not been taking my vitamins. What a hipocrite I am. I stand in front of people at health fairs and tell them to take their vitamins every day to help prevent birth defects, and I'm not taking them myself. With a family history of SB, if there's even a chance I could get pregnant, I should be on a megadose of folic acid. SB happens by the 28th day, and I surely was beyond that point. It was too late. I knew that if this baby had SB, I would never, ever forgive myself because I knew the information and I was just too irresponsible to follow it.
I called Blake--who was happy and excited--and loaded the kids in the truck to go buy folic acid. I took 4 pills as soon as I got home and realized my mouth had been hanging open in shock for the past two hours.
Over the next few days, I decided there was nothing I could do about the vitamins I didn't take. It was all in God's hands, and worrying wouldn't help anything. I allowed myself to get excited. We started talking about names, whether we wanted a boy or girl, where the baby would sleep, we'd need to buy a minivan. We had always talked about whether we'd have a third child, and I guess this made the decision for us! Little things ... I realized I'd need to buy another name charm for my mother necklace. This time we'd save money by buying used baby gear. I thought, I will never sleep again! I cut back on caffeine. And at least 100 times a day, I thought, "I can't believe I'm pregnant." I really could not believe it.
Last Wednesday was the first available appointment at the OB. I just shook my head as I entered that office again, only a year after my 6 week follow up after having Georgia. I received congratulations and reassurance about not taking the vitamins. I had no idea how far along I might be, so they sent me for an ultrasound to date the pregnancy.
Oh, the ultrasound room. It's always been a source of joy and fear for me. My first ever ultrasound was when we learned Nate had SB, and that was not a good day, to say the least. We had a couple more "bad news" ultrasounds during that pregnancy. Then in summer 08, after trying for 6 months to get pregnant, I was alone (well, Nate was there with me) during the ultrasound when I learned the pregnancy was a blighted ovum and I would miscarry. During Georgia's pregnancy, we got only good news during ultrasounds, but those anxieties do not go away.
So last Wednesday, alone in the ultrasound room, my heart sank when the tech said, "Hmmm." She didn't see anything. Nothing at all. This could mean two things: I was less than 4 weeks along and it was just too small to see yet, or it was an ectopic pregnancy (stuck in the fallopian tubes). In the latter case, they'd have to go in and get it, because it's not viable, and it's dangerous for the mom. She said they would look at my hormone levels and call me the next day. If the number was high, it was an ectopic pregnancy. If the number was low, it was probably just too early to see anything on ultrasound. I went home and tried to stay positive. In my gut, I really did not think it was an ectopic pregnancy.
The next day they called and said the number was low, so I was probably just very early in the pregnancy. But something did not feel right. That would mean I got a positive home pregnancy test at least 7 days before my LMP. That seemed very unlikely. I didn't have a good feeling about it at that point, but I waited. The next morning I had to go in for more blood work, and they were to call me that afternoon with the results. If the number had doubled since two days before, everything was fine. If the number went down, that was not good news for the pregnancy.
But that afternoon, before I received the call that the number did go down, I started to miscarry.
My first reaction, inexplicably, was anger. Maybe it was because I was at work and was very, very busy because our Stroll & Roll was the next day, and I knew I didn't even have the luxury of going home to my bed, pulling the covers over my head, and grieving. Or maybe it was because after all the shock and then acceptance of the past 8 days ... it was now just over. It made no sense to me. I went out to the privacy of my car to call Blake and my mom, and then I just had to pull myself together and get back to work. The next day, I worked hard and put a smile on my face, and very few people knew what I was going through.
This was not the right time for another baby, I know that. It could have easily been too much for me with Georgia still being so little and being so new at my job. But for eight days, I caught a glimpse of this path my life was going down, and on that path I had three children. Then before this new reality even really sunk in, it was just gone. And I suddenly had to readjust to the reality of 8 days ago ... which is wonderful--I was and still am totally in love with and grateful for my little family of four. But now there's this loss of something that never even really existed, I guess, but it felt very real to me.
It's been a week, and I still feel mostly numb. I haven't really sat down and let myself have a good cry about it. I've been busy with work and family and life, and when I'm not busy, I make myself busy with distractions. I read this book recently in which the author says that people are so afraid that their emotions are going to swallow them whole and they won't be able to recover from it, so instead of allowing ourselves to feel those emotions, we turn on the TV for distraction or eat chocolate to numb the pain. When if we'd just look those feelings square in the face and just feel them already, we will not die, and we'll be able to move on. That makes a lot of sense to me, and yet I just don't feel like putting it into practice. I don't want to feel this sadness. I'd rather keep distracting myself.
So that's how I really am. I'm not terribly depressed, and I know I'll be okay. But the truth is I'm a little confused and just really sad and pretty much feeling sorry for myself. Prayers are appreciated.