Telling the Family

I agonized for several days over whether or not to tell my family about the miscarriage. On one hand, I didn't want it to be a secret. I didn't want to feel like I was ashamed of what happened, because I didn't do anything wrong. I wanted to be able to talk openly about it, if I felt it could help. On the other hand, I wondered about my motivations for telling my family, especially my mom. My mom has wanted me to have kids for a very long time. While she does have grandkids (my brothers' kids), I'm the only daughter and the baby of the family. Not to diminish my niece and nephews, but it is different. In telling my mom about the miscarriage, would I be pushing all my pain on her, to her detriment? In the end, I decided that my mom would want to know, and would want to be able to support me.

I attempted to tell my mom last Friday, but my grandma was there and I didn't think I could face them both at the same time. On Saturday my dad was out and my mom was home alone, so I figured I should go ahead and do it. Honestly....it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I explained to her about how the doctor told me that something was probably wrong, and how we wouldn't have wanted to baby to suffer. She replied that my baby was now perfect in heaven, at which point in time I just completely lost it. Even typing the words out brings tears to my eyes. In the end I feel like I did the right thing. My mom and I are very close, and her support means the world to me. Thankfully, she offered to tell some other members of the family for me, so everyone should know by the end of the week.



My husband has been putting off telling his dad, which worries me. I told him there will always be an excuse to put it off, and that he could probably use his dad's support as well. He was not terribly receptive to that, but I'm not pushing it. I worry about him a lot. I know men don't grieve the same way women do (generally) but I think he feels like he needs to be strong for me, and isn't doing his own grieving.

Continuing the Story

In January of this year, my husband and I decided we could finally start TTC. I had been tracking my cycles for the past several months and had a general idea of when I ovulated. In January I peed on about a million of those ovulation sticks and finally stared down the crosshairs of a positive ovulation test. Miraculously, we were successful on our very first try, and I had a positive pregnancy test in February.

My husband and I were completely overjoyed. Based on my history of ovarian cysts, we never dreamed we would be successful right away. We had originally figured it would take at least 6 months. Also, while I'm not over 35 (which seems to be the magical age for trouble to start) I am 31, so not exactly a spring chicken.

I've always heard that you should not tell anyone you're pregnant till you're out of your first trimester, but this is much harder than you would think! My birthday was in March, and everyone pretty much figured it out when they saw me without a glass of wine in my hand. Most of our close friends knew we were trying, so it wasn't really much of a mystery. I'm not the best liar, so a lot of people knew about the pregnancy before I was even 6 weeks along.

Before I even had the first positive test (and I took a lot of them!) I had multiple pregnancy symptoms. Sore breasts, mood swings, irritability, crazy dreams, and cravings were all on the menu. At my weirdest, I was buying ice cream drumsticks, cutting the ice cream off the top and just eating the cone. Odd, I know, but it was what I wanted.

At 6 weeks and 1 day, I was scheduled for my first ultrasound. My husband and I both went, excited to possibly see the heartbeat. As I lay on the table, I heard the words from the doctor that would change everything, "I don't see anything".

I had an amniotic sac but nothing could be seen inside it. My doctor sought to reassure me by saying that I was probably 5 weeks along instead of 6, but I knew he was wrong. I had everything meticulously recorded on a calendar at home, including the actual day I had implantation spotting. I knew I was 6 weeks, and that we should have been seeing something.

I was sent to the lab for bloodwork and told we wouldn't get results until Monday (it was a Friday). The weekend was an agonizing wait. My husband and 2 best friends tried to reassure me that the doctor didn't seem worried but I was sure that something was wrong.

Early Monday morning I got up and got ready for work. I missed a call from my doctor's office and called them while on the way to work. After being on hold for 10 minutes, I finally got to talk to someone as I was setting my stuff down on my desk. In a very dispassionate voice, the nurse informed my that my progesterone level was way too low, and that this was consistent with miscarriage.

I rushed to the doctor's office, crying the whole way, for my second set of bloodwork. If my progesterone and beta levels were low or had dropped, it would be a pretty clear indicator that I had miscarried. I think I spent the whole day crying and mourning what I was sure had already happened. Late Monday night, I began spotting and cramping.

Tuesday morning came and went with no notice from the doctor's office. I finally called a little before noon, basically begging for someone to talk to me. By this time I was bleeding in earnest. I knew things were over but was still holding on to the tiniest hope that they might tell me things were okay.

Unfortunately things were not okay. My levels had dropped and the cramping and bleeding bascially indicated that my body had begun to miscarry my baby on it's own. At the doctor's office on Wednesday, the doctor informed me that something must have been wrong and that it wasn't my fault. I probably wouldn't have to do a D&C but would continue to bleed for 2 weeks or so.

This brings us up to today, Thursday. I basically don't know what to do with myself. I'm pretty much taking things one minute at a time, because anything else makes me want to lose my mind. Strong words for a therapist, I know! Against all better instincts, I worked yesterday and today. I could have stayed home but I thought work my distract me. To some extent it has but I have the next three days off so we'll see.

A Return....and A Departure

I haven't written on this blog in a really long time. Truthfully, I haven't needed it or really had the time. I've looked at my previous posts and they're all pretty light and fluffy. I think perhaps I was writing for others, instead of writing for myself. Lately I've felt the need to begin writing for myself. Some things have happened to me recently and I'm struggling to work through them. So while I love comments and appreciate people reading my blog, I'm going to start writing about things that might be hard to read. My apologies if this offends or bothers anyone, but I really need this outlet, and I plan on utilizing it quite a bit in the coming days.

About a year ago my husband and I decided we were ready to start a family. We were so excited...I started prenatal vitamins and began planning all the things we would do. I stopped taking birth control pills and was introduced to the wild emotional tango that is Pill-free life. Before we could really even TTC, my husband got some bad news. His company was being shut down, effective in just a few short months.
Obviously this put the brakes on all our plans. We had waited for a long time while we were both in school, what was just a little more time? Well, a little more time turned out to be 10 months. My husband finally found a new job and started in February of this year. In anticipation of the new job, we decided to go ahead and start TTC in January.

I'm going to stop here for tonight. I plan on wrapping up the rest of the story tomorrow, but I might have to do this in small doses for a while, until I get used to writing about such personal things.