the morning after
i turned on my e-mail over breakfast and was bowled over by all the lovely comments from our fellow bloggers (funny how at times like this the f-word takes on a sort of loveliness), and the personal e-mails, too (thanks, eve and catherine). even as i hate inflicting our sadness on you all, i just feel so blessed that so many people are sharing our loss - it makes the load lighter for me.
justin's mom came over after work, and she and justin and i sat around the kitchen table, drinking mac jack and talking. it's so weird to suddenly be able to drink. yesterday after the apointments, justin and i went to galluci's (our italian market), and i had a thick slice of pizza with sausage - i figured i deserved sausage yesterday, but, oh! i had forgotten the joys of it - and a 20 oz diet coke with lime, which i savored slowly over the course of the day and finished this morning. i don't want to redevelop a diet coke habit, and the lime variety makes it even more tempting, but damn, was the one bottle good.
mike and kath and charlie came over with pizza and beer as justin and his mom were finishing pulling carpet staples out of the floor in the carriage house, and so we sat around and talked with them. we didn't talk much about the tadpole, but it was good to just hang out. we went to bed early; i was exhausted. i don't normally get out of bed until 8:30, and i had gotten up at 6:00 yesterday.
i was awake for a couple of hours during the night, and i thought about the tadpole. but, at least for now, i'm not that sad about the tadpole, per se. i am sad, but it's not like it was with hans; it's very different. if we had lost the tadpole first, and i didn't already have hans's death creating a certain context now, i'm sure it would be different. it's kind of like my nausea: it was the worst thing in the world until i developed fecal incontinence, and then nausea seemed bearable.
please don't misunderstand - i have come to keenly appreciate how devastating other people's miscarriages have been, what life-defining events they have become, and i don't mean to belittle anyone's experience with miscarriage. it's a horrible thing. but right now we both feel like we've already survived the worst, and so this thing is manageable.
to put it another way: after hans, i thought frequently about how easy it would be to run the car off the road, or to jump off the detroit-superior bridge; last night i thought, well, if something happened to fall out of the sky and land on me, it wouldn't be so bad.
feel free to remind me that i said these things in the future when i break down.
what is bothering me is (1) my nervousness about the d&c, which involves anesthesia and scares me, and (2) that i have been forced to confront the reality of my [old] age. justin added to the list this morning that (3) there's nothing now to be excited about, to look forward to. and then there's the fact that (4) it's at least a year from now, minimum, before it would even be possible to have a live birth. it all sucks.
my mom and justin's dad are going to come later this fall instead of now, at our request. we are going to stick around the house this weekend, except for our plans to see sharon jones and the dap kings sunday night, which appointment we will keep unless at that very moment i am hunched over bleeding, which seems unlikely since i haven't had even the tiniest bit of bleeding. on monday, justin's mom will come sit with him in the waiting room while i'm in the o.r. and recovery, and then we will come home and chill out. justin has cleared it with his work to be out until at least thursday, with the option to stay out longer, if needed. i don't plan to go to work at all next week. i just want to stay in my blue fuzzy robe and lay on the couch and read and pretend that in three weeks i will be 26, not 36.
justin's mom came over after work, and she and justin and i sat around the kitchen table, drinking mac jack and talking. it's so weird to suddenly be able to drink. yesterday after the apointments, justin and i went to galluci's (our italian market), and i had a thick slice of pizza with sausage - i figured i deserved sausage yesterday, but, oh! i had forgotten the joys of it - and a 20 oz diet coke with lime, which i savored slowly over the course of the day and finished this morning. i don't want to redevelop a diet coke habit, and the lime variety makes it even more tempting, but damn, was the one bottle good.
mike and kath and charlie came over with pizza and beer as justin and his mom were finishing pulling carpet staples out of the floor in the carriage house, and so we sat around and talked with them. we didn't talk much about the tadpole, but it was good to just hang out. we went to bed early; i was exhausted. i don't normally get out of bed until 8:30, and i had gotten up at 6:00 yesterday.
i was awake for a couple of hours during the night, and i thought about the tadpole. but, at least for now, i'm not that sad about the tadpole, per se. i am sad, but it's not like it was with hans; it's very different. if we had lost the tadpole first, and i didn't already have hans's death creating a certain context now, i'm sure it would be different. it's kind of like my nausea: it was the worst thing in the world until i developed fecal incontinence, and then nausea seemed bearable.
please don't misunderstand - i have come to keenly appreciate how devastating other people's miscarriages have been, what life-defining events they have become, and i don't mean to belittle anyone's experience with miscarriage. it's a horrible thing. but right now we both feel like we've already survived the worst, and so this thing is manageable.
to put it another way: after hans, i thought frequently about how easy it would be to run the car off the road, or to jump off the detroit-superior bridge; last night i thought, well, if something happened to fall out of the sky and land on me, it wouldn't be so bad.
feel free to remind me that i said these things in the future when i break down.
what is bothering me is (1) my nervousness about the d&c, which involves anesthesia and scares me, and (2) that i have been forced to confront the reality of my [old] age. justin added to the list this morning that (3) there's nothing now to be excited about, to look forward to. and then there's the fact that (4) it's at least a year from now, minimum, before it would even be possible to have a live birth. it all sucks.
my mom and justin's dad are going to come later this fall instead of now, at our request. we are going to stick around the house this weekend, except for our plans to see sharon jones and the dap kings sunday night, which appointment we will keep unless at that very moment i am hunched over bleeding, which seems unlikely since i haven't had even the tiniest bit of bleeding. on monday, justin's mom will come sit with him in the waiting room while i'm in the o.r. and recovery, and then we will come home and chill out. justin has cleared it with his work to be out until at least thursday, with the option to stay out longer, if needed. i don't plan to go to work at all next week. i just want to stay in my blue fuzzy robe and lay on the couch and read and pretend that in three weeks i will be 26, not 36.
posted by laura at 9:37 AM
5 Comments:
There are still things to be excited about...to look forward to...just maybe not the same things you were excited about last week.
I am thinking of you and hoping you're able to find a reason to smile...even today when there seems to be none.
I know there is no way I could truly know what you are going through. I won't even try to pretend I know the depth of pain you feel over losing Hans and now the tadpole...Just know I am thinking of you and praying for you and Justin. All of us here in bloglandia are always here to "listen" when you need us.
(((hugs)))
I just want to tell you to get back on the bike and try again as soon as possible, but I know that doesn't help and you need time to process this loss and grieve. I'm just so mad at the world that this has happened to you, because you deserved joy and for things to work out this time.
The D&C sucks, but after what you've been through I think the process itself will be nothing compared to the emotional pain of all you've been through.
Hugs, hugs and more hugs. I am so sorry that this happened.
Just wanted to say that coming from someone who's only had early losses, I don't feel at all as though you're making less of it -- it IS a lesser thing, after having been through what you have. I admire you greatly for the strength you've managed to teach me in the short time I've known you... you've been through something far tougher than anything I think I could handle.
I just wish there were something that could be done to take it all away. Big hugs.
The D&C is a piece of cake. The first one was horrible because I didn't know what to expect, but the second one was easy because I'd been through it just a few months beforehand. They will let Justin stay with you until the end and they'll give you something to relax and you won't even remember anything after that. Then you'll wake up and he'll be there, just like a nap. You'll feel great, it'll hurt when you pee the first day and then go home and eat something. Then go to sleep and for God's sake don't drive or anything like that; you won't remember it. After my first D&C I'm told I did three NYT crossword puzzles and read a book and I have no recollection of any of it (except there were three completed puzzles in my handwriting).
Then, about a day later, the pain will kick in. Just TAKE YOUR VICODIN (have Justin stop at the drugstore on the way home; you won't remember) and make sure that you eat lots of fiber. Constipation makes the cramping worse. The up-dog-down-dog from yoga is great for the 3am cramps. I wish someone had told me all that. Also don't be surprised if you bleed/spot for two or three weeks. Eventually that will be the most annoying part of all of this, believe it or not.
But yeah, overall it sucks. And may I add... FUCK. Although fucking is what gets us into this mess in the first place, doesn't it?
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