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Pregnancy post-miscarriage: thoughts on shell building

July 10, 2009

Jack came home today and hugged me as he always does and said, how are my babies doing? Then he looked down with an expression he makes when resisting a second helping of cookies. What is it? I asked. Nothing, he said shaking his head, I want to talk to it. But I can’t do that. I don’t want to get too attached.

This time around I’ve created a lot of mechanisms to protect myself so I hopefully don’t fall quite as hard if I miscarry. It might sound morbid to consider this pregnancy may end that way, but I have to acknowledge that as one of the possibilities. To protect myself I told myself I’m not going to do constant research, and your baby this week stuff. I’m going to accept that I can only control what I can. Constant worry doesn’t help. I’m going to insist on regular beta testing self advocate like I did not last time. But- the whole not talking to it, not considering it a baby, that makes me sort of sad.

I realize that Speck was not a full fledged person yet. He was still growing. But I’m glad I loved him and spoke to him and send good vibes of love towards him. However small, and however short his life was on this earth, he was not insignificant to me. I loved him and I am glad that he was loved.

I’ve been told not to nickname or talk to this new being growing inside because it hurts more if things go wrong. But love is a double edged sword. One side beauty and goodness  and one side pain that can cut like a samurai sword through your soul. To love is to embrace this double edged sword. Despite the intellectual steps I can take to make sure I don’t fall and hit the pavement like I did with Speck, if I miscarry, it will hurt.

Despite the hurt, I don’t regret loving Speck.  Likewise, this new being growing within me shares a bond with me, and though its presence is only known in the bathroom breaks and the sleepiness that hits at 9pm,  I know that if I am lucky enough to see a viable baby in my womb through an ultrasound I will fall head over heels in love again and I will want it and dream for it like I did before. Regardless of outcome, I don’t think I will regret that. I don’t regret loving Speck. I still love him, and miss him.  He still matters and in my opinion, he should.

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11 comments

  1. sweetie pie, in my humble experience, there is nothing you can do to hurt LESS. So go ahead, do everything and anything, name it, talk with it, love it with your full heart. If something bad happens it will suck the biggest shit ever, NO MATTER WHAT YOU DID OR DID NOT DO so, please, revel where you can, and let yourself imagine what will be. You know why? Because it is more likely to work than not.
    The odds are in your favor.
    I totally get wanting to be self protective, I will too, I know,. But I also know in this one way, there is probably no such thing. Just being on this journey makes us vulnerable, as do all things we wish for and want with all of our hearts. So acknowledge your desire to keep yourself safe, and then let your heart what your heart does best, and what it is built for. Love.

    warmly
    Kate


  2. I know that actively loving your growing baby is *so* incredibly frightening right now….but you know what? I honestly think that feeling a connection and love for this babe will help to nourish it. Even if, God forbid, something happens to your little one, at least you will have comfort in the fact that you gave your entire body, mind, heart and soul during your time together.

    I’m so sorry that this has to be so scary. It really isn’t fair.

    *hugs to you*


  3. If something happens, it’s going to hurt no matter if you name it, talk to it, or touch it…but if nothing happens, you will have lost that time. I have a lot of regrets after losing the boys, things that if I can ever carry a baby to term I have vowed to correct. This last miscarriage, I called the baby by it’s nickname, I talked to it, I touched my belly and yes, it hurt like hell when I lost it but I do cherish that time. I feel like in our lifes, for people like you and me, hope has to be strong than fear.


  4. I know exactly how you are feeling right now. I also recently lost a baby at 10 weeks, and the hubs and I have decided to make next cycle our first medicated cycle since (8 weeks). When we made this decision his first response was “don’t take this the worng way, but I don’t want to go to any ultrasounds during the first trimester anymore.” He followed with much talk of “making the same mistakes” and “getting too attached” and “loving too much, again.” Part of me can understand that. When our Blueberry Bean died we both took it very hard. This was our first pregnancy that had a chance (fifth pregnancy total) and we were both so confident that all would go well. So, we both fell really hard.

    On the other hand though, if we do get pregnant again it will be a whole new baby. And if it makes it to birth and becomes “our baby” we will regret not loving it sooner. We will regret months of not getting attached. We will regret building a wall between us and our child. So, there’s a fine line between being careful enough and too careful, and I don’t know where that line is and I imagine it’s different for everyone. But, that’s just where we are right now. I’ve decided I will nickname, but won’t obsessively research. And, if he can’t come to the ultrasounds, I’ll have my mom or a close friend and I’ll have them on video so he can see them later. No matter what though, when my baby comes home I will not have put more energy into a pregnancy that didn’t make it than I did the one that came home.


  5. Kate, thanks so much for your encouragement to let myself feel good about this. *hugs*

    Meg, thanks for the reassurance. One thing I am doing differently is not telling as many people as I had last time. I learned that when you miscarry, there really are only a few people who know the right thing to do.. I am keeping it close to my heart this time and not letting everyone know.

    Mkewer, your story always brings tears to my eyes. Coming from you your advice means a great deal. Thank you for your comment.

    Arminta, I also lost my baby around the same time as you did. I’m so sorry for your losses. By medicated cycle do you mean you’re going to be on Clomid? My thought process was the same as yours so far… I mean its the same as any type of love you experience. You date an fall in love and maybe they dump you, but that doens’t mean you don’t love the next one who you happen to care for less because of the hurt you first experienced. Here’s hoping we both figure out the fine line *hugs*


  6. Hi Kate,

    We used Clomid last time, and I did get pregnant on my second Clomid cycle. But, my RE felt that Femara would be better for our next cycle because of the details about the miscarriage. I was honestly a little too distraught to really fully understand why.

    I truly hope that you are able to find your line and that the baby you are carrying now will be the baby you’re carrying home in April(‘ish).


    • Good luck to you on Femara, but please research why you’re doing it. It’s so important to know whats happening to us. Your last line made me cry. Thank you for saying that. I hope and pray I will know this one the way a mother should. *hugs*

      If you have a blog please send me your link, I’d love to add you to my blog roll.


  7. Sweet Kate,

    Your hesitancy is absolutely understandable & normal. And, I think MKW says it well above with, Hope has to be stronger than fear.

    And, I would add, love is stronger too. You don’t regret loving Speck, and you will never regret loving your baby now.

    Take it one day at a time and enjoy each day the gift that has been given to you. None of us know or can control what tomorrow brings, we can only gratefully & joyously revel in the blessings of today.

    I’m praying for a beautiful future for the three of you, together, ameen!

    Love you,
    Baraka


  8. I’m so excited for you! I can’t even imagine how hard it is to be so in love with your baby and so afraid to love it at the same time. It’s not fair that all you’ve been through makes it hard to celebrate where you are. I hope each step of the way helps you relax a little more!


  9. Baraka, ameen. Thanks for your lovely words of support and encouragement.

    Stacey, Thanks 🙂 I’m handling it surprisingly well.



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