Archive for May, 2009

h1

Pregnant on command

May 28, 2009

My hair dresser discussed how her two sisters are pregnant. Yeah, they plan their pregnancies for the same time. Must be nice, I think. Again, I am asked when will I have kids. I tell her not everyone can plan their pregnancies, some of us just get pregnant when we can. I did not say it with snarky intent. I said it because I am tired of being a silent sufferer. I am not about to tell my relatives at the wedding when they ask about my childless state Hey y’all, I’m infertile. My mom in fact, rushed up to me with my bottle of Metformin, hide it! She said. Can we find a unlabeled container to place these in! People will know! I’m not ready to tell my relatives but, but I can tell others so they are aware its out there, because we’re a whole a bunch of people and we tend to walk around like we must be ashamed. I felt good about this.

I came back to my parent’s house after the appointment. A cousin I have not seen in a year is over. She stood up to hug me. She was pregnant. Correction: She is pregnant. I was pregnant. She is 20 weeks pregnant. I would have been 17 weeks pregnant. She said, yeah, we wanted the next to be two years apart from Nora.

It felt like someone picked me up and threw me against a brick wall. I’m not exaggerating. I feel ripped to shreds. The reaction is not an intellectual one. I am about to write what I feel. It will not be eloquent and it will not be nice. It is not me. It is the basest part of me. Please don’t judge me. Please don’t hate me because I am about to wallow… and let myself self pity…. I am so FUCKING angry with the world right now. Speck, why are you gone? WHY did you leave me? Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? What did I do wrong? What did she do right? Why can’t I plan my fucking pregnancies? Why can’t I have a nice big pregnant belly? Why is my baby gone? Speck my heart remains torn into shreds. It’s raw and it smarts each time its touched. Can someone tell me what to do to take this pain away?

I’ll be okay. It’s one of those days.

h1

A baby with Jack

May 28, 2009

Someone I once cared about is attending my brother’s wedding. It’s been ten years since I’ve seen him and he’s now married with a one year old baby. Today we had the first of visitors for the wedding arrive. He is invited due to family connections his wife has to us. Small world. His wife stopped by to say hello and brought her daughter. Her daughter is beautiful with light brown hair wide blue eyes and cheeks that make you want to pinch and squeeze. She was born nine months after their wedding. I considered this man I almost married. He had multiple relationships while promising himself to me. He dropped out of college due to what I later learned was a drug habit. He broke my heart. Now, I see his daughter and though she is gorgeous I felt nothing, just a shudder at the thought of how a child with him would have tied me to him forever. I could only see her and think,  I am so glad I did not marry you. If God could come down to this earth and promise me if I married him that I would have a fertile womb and bear beautiful children, I would shake my head and say no thank you. My desire for a baby is more than just a desire to be a parent. It’s a desire to be a parent with Jack. To have a child who is a combination of the two of us, and if not that to raise a child together as ours with Jack. I want Jack’s baby. Seeing Gideon’s daughter helped me realize how important it is for me to appreciate the good and decent man I married. Though we don’t have children at least I have him. I would not trade Jack for anything, not even a promise of a child with another. I want a child with Jack and if I never have children, I am still blessed to have Jack in my life.

h1

A random update of sorts

May 27, 2009

I’m getting ready for a wedding in the family and things have been so hectic I have hardly had a second to eat or sleep or even think too much. The thinking part has been good. It’s been nice to get my mind off of things as best I can. Right now, though, everyone is out. My dad is sleeping, my mother is shopping. My brothers and husband are out on a barbeque (a very G rated bachelor party).

When a river is running swiftly you cannot see what lies beneath as clearly as you can when the wind stops and the flow slows into calm stillness. The wind has slowed and grief is whispering my name. I’m trying to ignore it because I fear if I look I will turn into a stone Medusa.

Relatives fly in tonight. Dammit how I had dreamed of this day just this April. Letting them discover my joyous news by the swell of my growing belly. I iron my clothes for the big day and I remember that these no longer need to be altered to fit my changing form. I remain unchanged.

Last night I had a vivid dream. I was breast feeding a little baby. I watched him nourish himself and as the days passed I watched him grow. I saw him learn to smile and I felt a flutter when I realized he recognized me! I woke and felt a deep sense of longing. Another glimpse of the beauty of motherhood.

Today at the nail salon, the manicurist asked me, so you married seven years, no baby? I guess you want to make money and save up before? I told her I’ve been trying for a long time to have a baby. I dont care about making more money. I care about having a child. She went silent and nodded. The moment felt freeing.

I hesitate to say that I may be ovulating today. I hesitate since with PCOS you can never trust the signs your body emits. Still, if it is the case then I am ovulating on a regular schedule. I could tell you I’m not getting my hopes up, but I am. Despite my pessimism, I am a hopless optimist. As an infertile I continue to grow more comfortable with this paradox.

I promised myself this time I would not attach myself to any new pregnancy like I did last time. No nicknames. No talking to it. No reading up on developmental stages. No pregnancy booklets. Yet, this morning my mom called me baby bug. We all laughed when she explained it meant I was her baby and I was bugging the ever living daylights out of her. Jack turned to me and said Baby bug. The next one, she will be our baby bug.

I’m not even pregnant. I don’t even know when I will be, or if I will be. I don’t even know if I will continue to miscarry each time I conceive, but fucking hell if baby bug isn’t the cutest damn thing I’ve ever heard. Just the sound of it makes me crave the fullness in my womb stronger than before.

h1

How to come on to an infertile

May 26, 2009

I’m sitting on the couch and hubby gives me the look. You know, the look.

No, I say shaking my head. I’m tired.

Oh, he says leaning close and whispering in my ear, but we should, in fact, we must.

Why is that? I ask with a raised eyebrow.

Well, he grins, “I think you’re ovulating.”

Wow. That was a first, but I have a feeling it won’t be the last!

h1

I am more than my infertility

May 23, 2009

This blog is  my place to release my frustrations surrounding my infertility and the pain of my miscarriage. From what I’ve read it seems I’m not alone in feeling overwhelmed by the inability of my body to do what for so many is effortless. My doctor said it will take me three to six months to grieve my loss. It seems I am normal in how I feel but I want to also say that I am more than just this though sometimes it is a struggle to define myself outside of these challenges I face.

I have PCOS. I am infertile. I had a miscarriage that haunts me. But-

I am a reader. I read anything and everything as long as its well written. I am a writer. I’ve written a full length novel that I am currently revising. I am a traveler. I love experiencing other cultures. I am a decent cook (though I hate cleaning up afterwards) and I am kick ass at Taboo (most times). I am an attorney. I represent low income kids with disabilities with their legal issues. I like helping children, but I often doubt my decision to go to law school because I really dislike the confrontational aspects of law. I probably will quit my job in September and try to pursue my dream of writing full time to see where it leads me. I love grapefruits, and chocolate in any form. My favorite color is pink.  I am a wife. A sister. A daughter. A niece. A friend.

It is a struggle some days to remind myself that I am more than an infertile miscarrying PCOSer. It is difficult sometimes to not discount all I’ve acheived and all that I am because of this one important area in which I feel like I am failing. It is a matter of constant reminding and convincing of the objective truth that I am a full human being, and should not be defined solely in the areas that I am incomplete.

h1

Seeing Family

May 22, 2009

I’ve been crying at the drop of a hat today. I think part of it is I’m emotional since my baby brother is getting married. He’s my best friend and I’m happy he’s found love but its a big change and I hope we will remain close. It’s the other reason that’s hurting more: this is the first time I’ll see my family after my miscarriage. Last time it was baby talk all the time. We debated names. My mom took me crib shopping. My brothers drove me to midnight taco bell runs. Speck would have been the first grandchild. One of the joys I felt about my baby was imagining their faces as they held the first grandchild. This week my relatives were going to find out I was pregnant. I would be sixteen weeks pregnant. I’m scared to see my family. I’m scared I will break down and weep. No one but Jack has seen me break.  I’m afraid of scaring people with the rawness of my emotions. If I hurt I know my parents will hurt, so I plan to do my best to keep it to myself. This will be difficult because as my parents they can usually tell if my heart is breaking.  Still, I’m going to try. This weekend is about my brother, not me.  I plan to keep myself in check and smile and pretend there is no nail jamming into my heart, but I am scared that the acting job this time may not be sufficient.

h1

Gratitude for the time I had

May 22, 2009

Today Jack checked the mail. He walked in with an envelope and opened it. Quickly he tore it in half, glanced at me with a look of apprehension and tossed it. My lovely insurance company. I had enrolled in the “healthy mothers program”. This letter was a reminder that you have not filled out your questionnaire and we really want you to have a healthy pregnancy and need this information to help you as much as possible. Never mind that I was on the phone with my insurance company when my baby fell out of me and onto the cold bathroom floor. Never mind that the next day they promised to remove me from the list.

Ready to retreat into my dark place I instead tried losing myself in the book Waiting for Daisy. Peggy’s husband said instead of feeling loss after they found out they would not be able to adopt a son they had hoped for that he felt grateful for the time he had with him, and the dreams he briefly held to be his father. I am considering this concept, turning it over in my mind. Those few months of my pregnancy, I fell asleep dreaming of his little heart beating, his little toes forming, this small being floating within me. I spoke to him and I felt an outpouring of love. I can still remember lazy Sunday mornings lying with Jack, and saying with a giddy infatuation this time next year he will be with us. I imagined him so clearly he became real. And then he was gone. He went from my child, a grandchild, a nephew, to nothing, just an embryo or fetus that did not reach viability. Someone I pinned my hopes on and prayed for and would give my life for, has no name, who is he? He’s suddenly nothing in the eyes of the world. A chromosomal abnormality a it happened for a reason for the best banal entreaty.

Okay, sorry, I went into a moment there. The point of this post is I am grateful for the time I had with him. I’m grateful for the two red lines on the pregnancy test. The dreams he let me dream. I’m grateful I saw his heart beat. I’m grateful I saw him wiggle on the screen. I’m grateful for the days he exhausted me and left me queasy. I am grateful he lived inside me. I’m grateful he will always be the first to do so. He holds that honor, always will.

I have pushed aside suggestions to perhaps honor my loss through a means of memorial such as planting a tree in his honor. Now I think I want to do something to honor the time he was on this earth, however briefly our time together was, he meant the world to me. I’m considering donating money to an orphanage in his name, or to the march of dimes. I will figure out over time what I will ultimately do. I miss the possibilities that vanished on April 13, 2009, but I don’t want my memories to be only of my loss- I want them to also be tinged with the reality of the joy that I did know albeit briefly.