When I was a sophomore in college, my uncle died in a car accident. It was sudden and senseless–someone collided head on while he was stopped at a traffic light. He died instantly. My mom called to tell me about 11pm that night. The days, weeks, months, and years that followed were full of trauma for me and my extended family. I suffered from some pretty tremendous PTSD in the aftermath of the experience–I spent years afraid of the phone ringing to give me bad news. Nothing felt safe after that. Life was suddenly fragile and precious and fleeting. And I remember, the hardest part of that experience, was the realization that it didn’t make me immune from bad things happening in the future. Another member of my family COULD die from a car accident. 4 years later, my sister very nearly DID. I didn’t get a pass. I didn’t get to fill out a slip saying my trauma-card was full, and exempt me from the possibility of more bad things happening.
That’s kind of how I feel about miscarrying after ttc for so long. We’ve tried for two years. We’ve spent thousands. We’ve cried oceans of tears. Finally, on our 15th attempt, I conceived. But it didn’t exempt me from a miscarriage. You want the world to make sense and be fair and ordered. You want someone who has suffered as much as we have (in this realm) to not have to endure more shit. But, it doesn’t work that way. All our ttc battle scars didn’t earn us a free pass to a healthy pregnancy. And future attempts may end as miserably as this one did. Or worse. God forbid, it could always be worse. Last night I stumbled across a blog of a woman who lost a baby at 19 weeks due to incompetent cervix. She had ttc for 5 years. This was an IVF baby. She has no other children. The hideous unfairness of it just makes your blood run cold, doesn’t it?
I’m pretty lost right now. I’m still just spotting red blood every day. On Friday I will get a repeat beta to see if the levels are dropping appropriately. I don’t think I’ve expelled whatever was in my uterus…but I don’t know. From what I’ve read, this could be painless and easy, or it could be horrifically painful and gruesome. It could last a few days or a few weeks. Am I still pregnant? If I hadn’t had my beta on Monday, I would still think I was. So, when do you become UNpregnant? The minute your beta drops? The day the ultrasound is blank? The day you pass the blood? I don’t know what I am right now. It’s hard to remember the fact that I was even pregnant at all…it already feels so far away. I am in limbo. Suspended. In purgatory.
And waiting. Again.
You’ve said it exactly, and it is still damn unfair and I will continue to rage at the storm because of what you have been through.
I suppose that painless and easy are what one should hope for, but we all know that refers to the physical portion of this only. So I’ll hope for healing and for hope and for success for you instead.
It’s beyond unfair. I’m hoping your physical pain is as low as possible. I’m hoping for peace – as much as can find you right now which I know isn’t a lot. I want to put up a shield and protect you from it all and I wish I could.
I still haven’t figured out when you become unpregnant, and that’s something I’ve been struggling with for nearly a year. *hugs lots*
It is so unfair, the world is cruel and unkind, and there isn’t any sense or reason. I’m not sure what’s better – that there isn’t, or how much more cruel it would be if there was and these things still happened.
You know how hard I wished this for you, how much I wanted it to be IT. I am so crushed for the two of you that you’re having to go through this. Much love.
To begin, this is a beautifully written post. You have expressed the feelings and thoughts so poetically.
But mostly I am so sorry you are facing this hurt. You are right: after struggling to conceive, we should be exempt from miscarriages! I am hoping the process goes quickly and physically painlessly for you. I wish there was something I could say that would help you now but I know better than that.
If I could, I would sit with you and bring you hot tea and homemade goodies. ((gentle hugs))
That really sucks…there’s not much else one can say.
check out this blog… it’ll connect you to alot of woman that are going through what you are.
http://knockedupknockeddown.blogspot.com/
Tbean,
There is so much that is lost when a woman miscarries. I lost my Naiveté. I finally understood mortality, both that of others and my own for the first time. I realized that we are at the mercy of life and sometimes nothing we do will change that. I’d like to say I think you will recover and things will go back to the way they were before but they won’t. It will change you forever and will always be part of you and the way you perceive life. When I m/c felt so many ugly feelings, I wanted that dead baby out of me, I didn’t want to be among the ranks of the ttc’ers anymore. I was completely lost, I was angry, I was emotionally bankrupt and I could not see how I could escape the pain. I could not figure how to feel about my situation or the lost baby that I would never know. It is a struggle, probably one of the hardest you will endure. Not everyone will understand what or how much you are feeling but know that there are others out there who understand and lean on them. Lean on anyone you feel comfortable with and take advantage of the help and compassion others offer you. This is such a hard thing to shoulder alone but you will find a way to do it. You will find a way to get through it even though you shouldn’t have to and we are all here for you as you need us.
I’m so sorry this is part of your life. I wish I knew why and I wish you didn’t have to experience it. Please take it one step at a time and give yourself permission to grieve in the way you need to. Take time and don’t rush yourself. It is a difficult and long process but at some point the minutes will get better, and then there will be better days, and then there will be better weeks and you will be able to breath again without crying. I promise.
I’m so sorry sweet girl, so very sorry.
I know. It’s such a mindf*ck.
Hang in there. You’ll know when it’s “done.” The doctors will tell you, and you will know yourself. Let your body cleanse itself and as it does, allow your mind to be cleansed as well.
Hi – Monica here, thanks to Anabelle. Well, what can I say besides: what you’re going through sucks terribly, and Anabelle is right: you are not alone. I know the purgatory feeling well. When are you not pregnant? It’s more than a bio-chemical thing, in my mind. It’s a psychological/emotional thing too. When you’re pregnant, you become a different person the minute you register that positive prego test. Being prego and not prego are two really different feelings, and when you’re stuck between them, it’s – yeah- like an identity crisis. In your case, a very painful and disappointing one. Disappointing to learn that: yes – nobody is immune to miscarriage.
I’m sorry for what you are going through.
Oh honey. It isn’t fair at all. We put so much of ourselves into this whole process, to still have empty arms is the rudest and most unfair thing.
I am here if you need to talk.
I really wish this wasn’t so… my heart is breaking for you. I’m so sorry.
I’ve seen too much pain in this world to believe that what is “fair” or “just” will happen, or that there is some big calculator in the sky, balancing things out, handing out the goodies to people when they’ve taken enough pain. But I really, really, really wish in this case that it was like that. You DO “deserve” it. It IS your “turn.” I so, so, so wanted this step of the process to work for you, since others haven’t. I wanted something rational and fair. And I’m so sorry. And so mad that it doesn’t work that way. I’m sending love.
I am so sorry tbean. I know how much it hurts. I feel so terrible that this has happened to you. And I really hope that our earlier correspondance didn’t make it harder for you now. If it did, I am so so so sorry.
There are no words to express what kind of loss a m/c is. I cried for a year. I held the grief so closely and crumbled whenever I let my emotional guard down for even a second. I wondered if it was a sign, if it meant I could never get pg. I ached and ached and ached.
When I did get pg, 18 months later, I was still grieving. Its now almost 6 years later (that baby would have been just over 5 now) and I still think about him, although in more of a commemorative way (I know it was a him. I just do. Even though I was only 13 weeks when I miscarried and did not know the sex yet).
Getting over a m/c doesn’t happen. And having struggled with IF ups the ante a bit– not making the miscarriage any different to experience, just the future POST m/c more difficult to think about. Mourn, cry, scream and feel everything you need to. Talk to your friends, those IRL and us here. And whatever you do, don’t lose hope. Don’t lose hope for the future and what it holds for you guys. Carry the light of the little spirit you had, in your heart. You are forever changed by its presence as well as its absence.
The unfairness of this is unfathomable. I send big hugs and lots of love from here…
Ugh this is so unfair. I hate this for you in every way. I’m thinking of you and hugging you virtually.
I am so sorry for your loss, and your struggles. I have often wondered why some of us fill two or three trauma cards and others are get by with barely using one. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you’ve had to struggle so long and it’s not fair that your precious child isn’t going to get the chance to live outside of your body and know how much you love them.
Here from LFCA. I’m so very sorry for your loss.
Wishing you peace in this difficult time.
Well put. It doesn’t make sense. After a year of trying we thought we’d put in our dues – no such luck, as our first pregnancy ended as quickly as it began. There’s no rhyme or reason for it. It’s like standing in line to get on the bus, and the bus keeps coming and letting other people on – other people happily push in front of you and then the bus speeds away, and you wait again for the next one…
Here from LFCA. If you haven’t had it yet, ask for an immunological screen. I conceived after IVF after 1.5 years of monthly IUIs and then miscarried. Immunological screening uncovered an issue that was solved for with an aspirin/Lovenox protocol, and I was able to conceive via IUI the next month. It certainly doesn’t make up for a loss– nothing ever will and I still miss that baby, have the pee sticks from that pregnancy, and think about him/her every day, but having a loss was the only way I was able to get the testing I needed to uncover my problem.
Your are right, it is not fair that you should be made to go thru this ordeal, especially after the struggle you had to get to this point. *hugs*
Sending love and hugs and wishing that was enough xoxo
Beautifully stated. When I had my losses that is what kept ringing…. after all this time, all this pain, don’t I get a pass? I have to lose my baby too?
I am so sorry fory our pain. There is no fairness or making sense of any of this. It just makes no sense.
Here from LFCA
Oh, doll, I am so sorry you have to endure this now too. It is not fair. I am sending you lots of love. xoxoxoxo
Just wanted to check in and see how you are doing. I am so sorry that after all this time and working so hard for it this happened. Why isn’t there a limit on bad things that happen to good people?
I was thinking of you today and wanted you to know that I am sending you both love and hugs.
I wish I could do more:)
xoxoxoxoxoooxx
I got to your page through The Adventures of Jen, Tiff and Mr. Munchkin and I just wanted to let you know how truly sorry I am for your loss. I always feel odd when my heart aches for a stranger, but I too am tcc (and have been for nearly a year) and I think that adds an extra layer of greif for your situation. It looks like you have a great virtual support system, and I wish you the best as you continue your jouney to a little turtle.