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aclu
bacon lover
bakerina
caffeine and nicotine
coffee achiever
contentious
crazy us
dooce
economist
gawker
get crafty
grits nyc
jhc fotolog
jitterbean girl
kfk fotolog
kitchenman
laid-off dad
landon in key west
mighty girl
mighty goods
mimi smartypants
not well planned
onion
petit hiboux
piehole
pretentious
rock star diary
secret agent josephine
slate
smitten
sta.r
the man
» Love, gratitude, and a few PSs to a few people who need a swift kick in the you-know-what
» Don't wake me 'til it's over.
» Tuesday/Wednesday
» My sweet Sponge
» Happy Birthday, Mister!
» The kind of mama I want to be
» Good, clean family fun
First and foremost, the Mister and I feel tremendously fortunate to have such wonderful family and friends - local and virtual - who have been nothing but loving, kind, and supportive during the past few weeks. Although there have been a few well-meaning people who have implied that this was all my fault or that we shouldn't be sad because we will have other children, there have been so many others who shared our joy when we thought we were going to be parents and now mourn our loss. A thousand thank yous to all of you - this would have been so much more painful without you.
It's almost impossible to describe what the past few weeks have been for us. When the doctor couldn't find the baby's heartbeat at our last prenatal appointment, I think we both felt like that bottom had fallen out of our lives. Because it doesn't matter if your baby is the size of a peanut or a frog or a spatula, you love that little bundle of possibility with all of your heart, and even if you know that between 50 and 60% of pregnancies end in miscarriage (isn't it amazing that anyone has kids?), nothing prepares you for that loss. I was days away from making it through the first trimester, people, days. We were so close to being in the clear that we, along with our doctor, assumed we were. That's why I didn't have an appointment between ten and sixteen weeks, and why I ended up carrying a dead baby around in my uterus for a month.
Because I had not actively miscarried, we were told that I would need to check into the hospital and have the fetus removed. Strange as it may sound, even though we knew the baby was dead, it was still with us, and going in for the abortion was kind of like watching a casket being lowered into the ground, your loved one is gone in a different way afterward.
The details of what followed at the hospital are not for the faint of heart, so I'll just say this. The "procedure," as they call it, ended up being a good deal more complicated than even the doctor had anticipated. Instead of being released the same day, I ended up losing a lot of blood and needing to stay in the hospital overnight. The curious benefit of the physical pain was that it kept me from dwelling on the magnitude of what had happened. For a time, anyway.
Now that I'm physically back on my feet, I've returned to work and have finished my work-study hours at school. I have a start-date for my culinary school classes - February 22! - and have had long conversations with the Mister about when we're going to try and have a baby again. My mom, who has been tremendous through all of this by the way, keeps reminding me that I need to try and be focused on the future, on the good things that are still happening in our lives.
But. Even as I try to keep my mind elsewhere, there are lots of little things that open the flood gates. We know other people who are having babies, and as much as I don't want to, I feel jealous, because they are still pregnant, wondering about their babies' sex, and choosing nursery furniture, while I am trying to get used to having my body all to myself. I want so badly just to feel happy for them, but when I hear about or see another pregnant woman, it breaks my heart: I used to be a member of that club. They are a-glow and full of excitement, and I am empty, literally and emotionally. I find myself feeling very resentful toward all of the teenage moms I see on the subway; why do they get to fuck up their lives and have a baby? Wouldn't it be better if they were in my shoes? I felt tremendous grief when I went to see my doctor and got a first-hand look at the "for rent" sign hanging up in my uterus. And I feel angry and brokenhearted and devastated, even though I know intellectually that the baby died because there was something profoundly wrong with it and that nothing we did or didn't do could change that. And every time some well-meaning someone asks me what I want for Christmas or if there is anything that they can do for me, I want to tell them that I want our baby back.
-grumpypants
Posted at December 18, 2005 11:06 AM
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Ok, grumpypants, I am glad you are doing well. We were all brokehearted over here at the dreamloft when we heard the news. Feel free to come over for New Years--no sign of anything baby related here. And well, at least you can drink now. It has to count for something!
Chin up sunshine! It can only get better from here!
ciao,
Jocelyn
Posted by: Jocelyn at December 19, 2005 09:08 PM
I just stumbled across your blog this evening and I want to say that I am so sorry for your loss.
Take care of yourselves and each other, and I hope you'll eventually find peace.
Posted by: Doesn't matter at December 19, 2005 11:04 PM
Once again I want to tell you just how sorry I am that you had to go through the all of this. I do understand what you're going through, exactly. I carried one baby for another week before I could get home for the D&C. Which my husband lovingly called the Dust & Clean. I also had it 4 days before Christmas. The only way to get through to the other side, where you even consider having another baby, is through a lot of tears. So I wish you a good cry, and a lot of love.
Posted by: comfortablycrazy at December 20, 2005 11:21 PM
grumpy, I was so sorry to hear about this. You have every right to grieve as you see fit, for as long as you see fit, and in any manner you see fit. You have been through such trauma. If anyone questions you just shove one of your handy dandy cooking utensils up their ass.
Posted by: ap at December 21, 2005 09:01 AM
so many things I want to say and none of them helpful. So I'll just say I love you (and your stinkin' mister), and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.
Posted by: john at December 21, 2005 03:31 PM
;)
)
)