Survived Thanksgiving

thank you all so much for commenting on my last posts. It means a lot to me. It really does.

Thanksgiving is over and I managed to go over to my in-laws dinner. It was a very small dinner, none of the pregnant ladies were in attendance, and pregnancy talk were kept to a minimum. I couldn't have gone, however, had Mr H and I not have a big fight beforehand.

Infertility/miscarriages are hard on our marriage, which doesn't come as a surprise I suppose. Some people say they get closer BECAUSE of it, but I am not sure that's the case for us. I guess, it could be, if we had a similar style of mourning the loss of our dreams. But we really don't. To me it always seems, Mr H is sad FOR me, not necessarily WITH me. Don't know if that makes sense. But it always enhances my feelings of aloneness.

There was one time when he mentioned that a friend of ours (couple of years older, went through a bit of infertility, but ended up with a second child long before there was even a chance for us) kept telling him "just keep trying" and that this comment really bothered him. At this moment, I felt really close to Mr H.

The last couple of months seem like a dream to me. A great dream but "only" a dream nonetheless. Sometimes the memories even feel surreal. Maybe I just dreamed that I had been pregnant? But then i see the bruises from the IV...my ninja was a reality at least for some time.

Unfortunately, not long enough.

Cancelling Thanksgiving?

I just called my MIL. I told her that I was feeling pretty miserable today and that I might not attend the Thanksgiving dinner.

My in laws are really sweet and they grieve with me. But at the same time they are, of course, excited about the prospects of two new grandbabies. But I can't be.

In my mind, I see the two cousins playing together and I wonder whether I am the only one who will remember that there could have been a third...

I can't celebrate Thanksgiving this year. I thought I could. I was holding up reasonably well. Until yesterday. Until my sweet husband had to drop this bomb on me.

I just can't get over the timing of all these events. It's hard enough to get over this miscarriage as is, but getting informed that fertile inlaws are EXPECTING* a baby around my due date while I still bleed away the last physical memories of mine, I am sorry, but that's too much for me right now.

I want my baby back. And given that's not going to happen, I would at least like to have a husband who grieves with me.

Gosh, what a lonely road to walk.

_________________
* only normal people are "expecting" a baby, us infertiles, if we're lucky, we get pregnant. We rarely get to "expect"

Lost my appetite

Remember my last post, the one I just wrote an hour ago or so? The one, in which I said I was looking forward to having lunch with my husband?

Well, it didn't go so well.

Shortly after we ordered food, Mr H thought this was a good time to drop a bomb on me. He started saying that he had some news about his brother and that those news are a bit bitter sweet. I knew what was coming, do you?

His brother got married in the beginning of September. Shortly afterwards I managed to get pregnant. Apparently he and his happy bride did the same thing. They are due in June, the same month my baby would have been due.

WTF.

At the wedding my other SIL announced that they were "expecting" again. I even managed to be happy for them.

But today, I couldn't feel happy for anybody. It felt like the knife that is stuck in my heart was twisted. Two babies due, close to each other, none of them mine, and one even due at the same time my baby was... And all I got? A missed miscarriage. Another surgery. More heartbreak.

All I got was a couple of weeks of morning sickness for essentially a dead baby. Or embryo or whatever. And then the week I try to deal with my miscarriage, the loss of a much wanted, much waited for baby, I have to further digest that there will be a constant "mirror of what could have been" right in front of me? At every family function?

I know this has nothing to do with fairness whatsoever, but sometimes it's just too much for me.

Dear internet, how does one deal with all this?

And how can I manage not to hate Mr H a little bit for taking me to restaurant for a nice date and then dropping such a bomb on me in front of a whole restaurant? I had a difficult time holding back the tears. Great lunch.

Great thanksgiving.

Physically I seem to be okay

Emotionally I am not so sure. I hope time will cover up some of my sadness.

The D&C went (thankfully) uneventful. I went there all by myself, which suited me just fine. There was nothing that I wanted to talk about anyway, so reading a book worked nicely for me. I think some of nurses felt sorry for me, being all alone and such after a miscarriage, but I didn't mind.

Physically the D&C was not too hard on me. I am not in pain, not cramping, and just bleeding lightly. Hopefully no complications will arise in the future.

Today is Mr. H and mine dating anniversary. We had our first date the day before Thanksgiving and somehow we keep celebrating this day almost more than our wedding anniversary (which is a day after Valentines. Makes you wonder whether we are a bit memory impaired, doesn't it?). We've been through a lot the last couple of years. And I hoped we could celebrate something wonderful this time around. Well, not yet.

But I am still looking forward to my lunch with him. Somehow at least my appetite has returned full force.

"Baby Alive"

I watched a commercial yesterday that was advertising a doll called "Baby Alive." Oh, goodie, I thought, maybe I should put it on my Christmas list?

Miss V by the way named our demised ninja "Emma". She is sure that it was a girl.
Have I mentioned before how glad I am to have Miss V? She's my light. There is something so refreshing about how a four year old deals with a miscarriage.

A couple of weeks ago, when I started feeling shitty and changed my eating habits, she constantly asked me what was wrong with me. I finally told her that there might be a little baby growing inside of me. I told her that I couldn't promise that there would really be a baby in the end, but that I was hoping it very much.

So, when she saw how sad i was last Thursday, I told her that the doctor had told me that the little baby inside of me was too sick and had died. I further told her that I was very sad about it. Miss V looked at me sadly and said "she was very sad, too" and she let me hug her (she is usually not so into the hugging). Then she looked at me and started to ask all those curious questions about why the baby had died. In the end she decided that "ah, well, maybe there will be another baby" (to which Mr H answered, well, we'll keep trying...) , oh, and cheerfully announced while walking back to her toys, that tomorrow, she would tell her preschool teacher that "my baby died." I am sure her teacher enjoyed that conversation. It's funny, it doesn't hurt me at all to talk to Miss V about the doomed ninja.

I haven't started bleeding yet. And my bo*bs still hurt. And can I tell you something that may sound weird? I think I will feel so empty when they finally remove our little ninja. Apparently, I prefer even carrying a dead ninja to an empty uterus. Sad, isn't it? But I guess, it will get easier to let go of my dream then.

Back to the Reality that is my Life

I feel like I was rudely sent back to Mother Earth after being allowed to float around for a couple of weeks in lala-pregnancy land. I didn't really think I was allowed to float up there much longer, was I? I am back to the reality that is my life.

There were really no big warning signals that something was so terribly wrong. I was nauseated a lot, I gagged a lot, I hated certain smells, and my bo*bs were moderately sore most of the time (at least not any less than with Miss V.). I didn't pee so very often (although I had to get up about twice at nights), but I don't remember that being the case with Miss V either. I didn't cramp, nor did I spot (apart from one tiny drop after a bowl movement a couple of weeks ago).I sometimes even felt some ligament pain though I did feel more a couple of weeks ago.

I did start to feel better over the last week, just a bit queezy here and there. But I remembered feeling similarly better at 11 weeks with Miss V. With her though, I heart her heart beat at 11 weeks (though not without difficulty finding it. I even got the miscarriage speech, but somehow I hadn't run out of luck back then).

And even though I always have a cautious voice in the back of my mind warning me not to get too overly excited (who us doesn't have that?), I didn't really think we would NOT see a living fetus. I mean, I was almost 11 weeks pregnant, without any warning signals, at least as far as I was concerned...Delusional? Maybe.

And Mr. H was so excited to see the ninja. And then there was nothing but a dead embryo in its gestational sac. Probably dead for quite a while without me really noticing.

A missed miscarriage is pretty brutal. No warning signs. Basically, one cannot even take comfort in the existence of pregnancy symptoms (as if I didn't already have enough paranoia).

I just can't shake the feeling that again somebody up there was having a good laugh at my attempts of being happy with and optimistic about this pregnancy. It's sounds paranoid, doesn't it?

After all, it was probably just some bad luck...(now why doesn't that make me feel any better????)

I am very sad about having to let go of this ninja. After those initial great betas (14 dpo: 168, 16dpo: 595, 22dpo: 12430) I did allow myself to dream. It makes me sad that the dreams will just remain that. Dreams.

I am scheduled for a D&C on Monday, unless my body decides to finally let go over the weekend. I am not thrilled to have another procedure that increases my risk of adhesions, but my OB, my RE, and I agreed that I might want to have this physically over as fast as possible.

Thank you all for your kind words and hopes for this ninja. I know, that sadly you all have been where I am now.

Missed Abortion

I should have been almost 11 weeks pregnant today, but our embryo had died some time ago. We learned that during yet another ultrasound from hell.

It's so brutal. It's so cruel.