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I’ve read some of the journals on this site, and I see how honest everyone is. I’ve heard that writing can be cathartic, so I am hoping that it works for me. For anyone that reads these ramblings, I hope I don’t offend you. Sometimes I am just a bitter, bitter woman.
My husband and I started dating 10 years ago. We had lived together almost four years when I found out I was pregnant with our son. We were nervous, shocked and excited. My husband had lymphoma when he was 21 and the chemo had rendered him infertile (at least for a while). We decided that we wanted another child about a year and a half ago, but decided to get our wedding out of the way first. We set the date for February 9 and we started TTC in January 2008. We found out the day before the wedding that I was pregnant.
Right from the very beginning I knew it was a girl. I was sooo sick, and I never had morning sickness with my son. We waited until I was 15 weeks pregnant to tell anyone. We wanted to be out of the first trimester, and into (what we thought was) safer waters. My best friend was pregnant and due about 5 weeks before me. We talked back and forth about our pregnancies and whether we thought we were having girls or boys. They hired my maternity leave replacement and set a date to start training her. I went through the baby clothes from my son and sorted them by age. We also started renovating the spare room to be our son’s new bedroom so we could put the new baby in his old room. I felt pretty good. I was just starting to get heartburn, and I had no swelling (both things plagued me throughout my pregnancy with my son). As I said, my pregnancies were so different. I put on weight a lot quicker with my Eva than I did with Connor. She always kicked ‘downward’ which was pretty uncomfortable. I often broke off in the middle of a conversation because she would be kicking me so hard.
When I was 24 weeks along, we spent most of the weekend trying to remove wallpaper and cleaning up in the room we were renovating. Sunday night, I realized I hadn’t felt her move since the day before. I drank pop, ate sugary food, and I tried lying very still on my back (something that usually made her wiggle around), but I still didn’t feel any movement. I told myself that I was just being paranoid. I had similar scares with Connor, and it was always OK. The next day, I couldn’t delude myself any longer, so I called the ER. At the ER, the nurse and the doctor both took turns palpating my abdomen before the nurse tried the Doppler. I heard a heartbeat and started crying in relief. She patted my arm and asked me if I felt better. The doctor kept acting nervous, but I didn’t know him so I thought that maybe he just had a rotten bedside manner. He said he wanted me to come back for an ultrasound the next day and sent me home. That night, I still didn’t feel any movement. When the technician started the ultrasound the next day, she stopped almost immediately and told me she would be back in a moment. She was in and out of the room a couple of times, and my stomach dropped into my feet. I just knew there was something very wrong. She returned with a doctor, and she told me that she wanted his opinion on a few measurements. They both stood watching the monitor for a few minutes. I started crying and said “There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”, and the doctor said “The baby has died”.
I remember breaking down and wishing I could die. Apparently the heatbeat I had heard the night before was my own. Another nurse came in and asked if she could call my husband. When he got there I asked if I would be having a D&C, and they told me that I was to be sent to a different hospital where they would induce labour. At the second hospital, we spent 6 hours in the emergency room full of crying babies (two of which were newborn) before we were admitted. They put us in a room on the maternity ward and put a polite notice on the door so we would not be disturbed. They came and spoke to us about our wishes for treatment and whether we wanted to see and hold the baby. They brought us information on burials and cremations, and pamphlets on how to deal with stillbirth.
From the beginning of the induction to the delivery was 24 hours. They didn’t get my epidural in correctly the first time, and when they tried the second time I was crowning. They gave me some pretty heavy pain medications so I was pretty out of it when I finally gave birth. I was so calm for the first 23 hours, but I remember being pretty nasty to everyone during the last hour. It wasn’t because of physical pain, but because I felt so much bitterness and hate at what I was losing. I gave birth to my sleeping daughter on June 24th, 2008 at 6:14 pm.
After it was over, they left me to drift in my drug-induced haze for a little while before they brought her in. We named her Evangeline. She was so tiny and so perfect. My arms shook from exhaustion and drugs, and I just couldn’t hold her very long. After they took her away, I had a shower to get the blood off, and then (at almost midnight) we went home empty handed. Four months later, and I feel just as empty handed as I did that night.
Oh Laurie, I hope you dont mind me posting in here hunny. Im crying my eyes out for you, and Eva. It breaks my heart, I can hear the sadness in your post. I just wanted you to know that your family is among the families I pray for on here, and I really hope that when you guys decided that the time is right, youll be blessed with anouther beautiful healthy baby.
I don't mind at all, Eleysia. I started this journal and wrote all of this stuff down because I needed to get it out. I can't really talk to people in real life about it because they get....awkward. If anyone here wants to read and comment, I welcome it because I feel a little less isolated. Either way, it feels good just to write it down. Thanks for your kind words. I am hoping to get my BFP soon!
I am starting a new cycle (I am on CD8) but I can't get into the excitement of it. I am already sure that I will be disappointed in 20 days. In fact, I cannot shake the feeling that TTC is futile. I feel like I am not meant to have more children, and that I am just setting myself up for more heartbreak. After I lost Eva, I was haunted by the thought that she was taken from me because I had already proven myself to be a bad mother to Connor. I remembered every single time I yelled at him, was too busy for him, or didn't seem to anticipate his needs. DH told me that it wasn't true, and then he started to get so frustrated with me when the feeling didn't go away, so eventually I stopped talking to him about it. I think my pessimistic feelings regarding from TTC stem from that same belief that I am a terrible mother. I know that I provide a stable home and everything for his physical needs, but am I a good mom emotionally? Am I too easily frustrated? Am I fun enough? Am I too strict? Do I spend enough quality time? Between work, household chores and parenting, I often feel pulled in so many directions and worry that I will never get the balance right. Will I be able to care for more children? Everybody tells you that the first emotion you feel as a parent is unconditional love, but nobody tells you that the second emotion is guilt. *sigh*
I ordered a bunch of hpt tests online and just got them on Friday. Just ordering all those tests scares me. It's like coming right out at saying "OK, we're going to be here for a while". It just makes me sad. I'm hoping it is one of those things where if you are prepared, you will never actually need it. I don't know, but I think I may be a little off my rocker. As soon as I got the tests I went and POAS. There is absolutely no way it would have been positive, but I did it anyway. I told myself that I just wanted to try them out....lol.
I have been having a lot of dreams about Eva lately. There are really two basic dreams. In one, I just relive the whole experience of losing her. In the other, I give birth to her and she is OK. Everything in the dream is pretty much the same as what really happened, but in the end I hold a living baby instead of an angel baby. I know that the baby is alive, but I still can't see her face. I guess even my imagination just can't picture what she would have looked like if she had lived. I finally looked at the pictures of her yesterday. I was able to really look at all of her perfectly formed fingers and toes. I tried so hard to see who she would have become, but I just couldn't make it out. Did she have my funny looking fingers and toes? Did she have her father's eyes? I just couldn't tell, and that is really hard for me.
I still can't believe that I will actually have another child. It is still the impossible dream, like wishing to walk on the moon. I am starting to worry that I am aware of something on a subconscious level, and that there is something wrong with me. I am hoping that it is just my way of protecting myself from hurt and disappointment. Only time will tell, I suppose.
Well, I don't really know what to think and feel. I've been feeling strange all week, but I never paid attention to my body during my previous two pregnancies as I am now, so I don't know if it means anything. Today, I was sitting at the computer reading the posts here when I realized that I don't feel well. It took me a moment to realize that I have indigestion from my morning coffee! Indigestion was a constant companion during both of my previous pregnancies! Between the irregularity and indigestion, I am really getting my hopes up. This will be a big problem if I'm not pg. I think I will be crushed. I don't even want to talk about it here in case I am wrong. I don't want to look like a fool that makes mountains out of mole hills, so to speak. Ugh! I can't wait until testing time.
On another note, we are going to start our Christmas shopping today. I am so scared and depressed. I was supposed to have a two month old baby at Christmas. I bought stocking holders last year, and I bought NOEL in anticipation of having a fourth stocking to hang. Usually, Christmas is my favourite holiday but I'm just not sure I will get into it like usual. Also, I have to buy for my brother's babies. He has a daughter and a son on the way (due the beginning of December), and they are only going to be six months apart. Yep, you are reading that correctly. He has a four month old with one woman, and a baby due in December with another woman. And he expects us all to be happy and give him what he needs for the new one. He actually said "it's my turn" to me. He has had 4 or 5 different jobs in the last year, she doesn't have a job at all, and they live in a tiny apartment. I. Am. Bitter. I'm trying not to be, because I think that honestly makes me a bad person and a horrible sister, but I am not happy. I need to work through this and be there for him and his kids. He has always been great to Connor, and is so proud of him. I want to be the same for his kids, but the situation is difficult for me. Maybe I need a psychiatrist after all.
Well, I haven't been able to really come here for the last few days. I'm not pregnant this month, and I can't believe how upset I am by it. I don't know why I am taking it so hard, but I am absolutely crushed. I've been crying since Friday (when I tested and got a BFN). I am just in so much pain and there is nobody I can talk to. I can't talk to DH because we've already had problems from the pressure he feels from TTC. There just isn't anyone to talk to, so I find a little privacy and I cry. At home, in the bathroom at work, in the car.... I am so sick of crying and I am so sick of feeling incomplete. I have become someone that I don't recognize, and I just don't like myself anymore. I am never really happy, and I feel as though I am simply marking time until I am finally pregnant again. Motions, motions, motions.....I just keep going through the motions. I don't feel joy anymore, and I am a little frightened by that.
We got Wall-E for my son, and he loved it. I had a hard time watching it since most of the movie was Wall-E repeating the name "Eva" over and over. Now my son is wondering around saying "Eeeevvvaaaa" and it is like little knives pricking me each time. I am upset because Connor should know that name as the name of his sister, not the character from a movie. That name is sacred to me, strange as that sounds. I don't know what to do anymore. I want to be happy!!
My husband got the mail last night, and there was a letter from the funeral home there. It was an invitation to a service to be held for all of their patrons (is that what we are?) that lost loved ones during the year. After the service, they are going to present us with an Christmas tree ornament with Eva's name on it. We are supposed to RSVP by the end of the week, but I'm not sure what I want to do. I'm not sure ripping the band-aid off at Christmas is such a wise idea. I haven't forgotten her, but I've managed to find a way to function around the grief. I'm not sure if the service would be helpful or hurtful.
On the TTC front, I'm taking Robitussin this cycle. I really hate that kind of stuff. It's everything I can do not to gag. I just make myself swallow and think of holding a baby in my arms. All I can say is that I'd better get pregnant this month!
Unbeknownst to me, I was pregnant when I typed my last entry. I started spotting 'mid-cycle', which has never happened to me, so I took a pregnancy test. The test was positive, but because of the bleeding I was having my betas tested every three days. My numbers kept going up, and the bleeding continued. After about a week, I ended up in the emergency room in a lot of pain. The ER doctor told me that he thought I was miscarrying. It was so surreal because it was the same doctor that told me Eva had passed. He didn't remember me, of course, but I harbour such negative feelings for him. I know it's not fair, but it is like he is my own personal angel of death. He sent me for more blood work and an ultrasound the next day. They couldn't see anything on the ultrasound, but they saw a mass on my left ovary. I was sent to an OBGYN the next day, and he gave me a chemotherapy drug called methotrexate. It was supposed to end the pregnancy and he warned me that I would have cramping. I was in a lot of pain for the next three days, then it eased off a bit and I thought I was getting better. The following Monday I was rushed to the hospital in a great deal of pain. I was rupturing and haemorrhaging. I was in surgery less than two hours after I arrived at the hospital. I lost a quarter of my blood volume in addition to my left tube and ovary. I have tried to take a mental break from the entire TTC process. We can't try right now anyway, and I need to remember what is great about my life, not just the things that are hard. I have been reconnecting with my husband and my son, and that has helped me enormously. Despite everything that has happened this past year, I am truly grateful for everything I have.