My miscarriages have a way of tarnishing my favourite holidays. First Canada Day, and now St. Patrick's Day. What's next, uterus? If you're planning on fucking up Halloween or August Long Weekend, I'd like some notice, thank you very much.
I'm doing okay though. I was only about a month along, not that that matters at all, other than the fact that this time we didn't get a chance to tell anyone, which is good, I guess. We didn't even get a chance to think about it, because the day I found out I was pregnant, was the day I found out I was in the process of miscarrying. I probably shouldn't even be writing about it, but what the hell. I'm a rule breaker. I'm also strong and not willing to let this break me. I'm moving on, and keeping my chin up, and all that jazz. I am less angry than the first time, but somewhat worried about medical issues, of which I have no interest in looking into at this point in time. I will still continue to avoid pregnant folk like they have the plague. I've kind of given up on my lady bits at this point, and I'm kind of okay with that. Is that a negative way to accept something you don't want to? I don't know. For some reason, all I want to do is get more dogs, have a beer with my friends, have a good cry and call it a day.
Life continues to be full of awesome, and I am looking forward to summer, and my excelling at my new job, new opportunities that my husband is looking into, and gardening two gardens, growing my hair long, and beers and books on my deck all summer.
And I'm looking forward to telling you all about it as all this awesome happens. This depressing shit has got to go. Keep on bringing the fun, world. Keep on bringing the happy. I'm more than ready for it.
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Apr 4, 2012
Jan 23, 2012
Anger, Sadness and Moving On
I've been dreading this past weekend for months. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I have realized that I am a very angry, jealous person, and I need to get a handle on things because it's starting to affect me physically. Stress and sadness are an evil combination. I AM MAD AT ALL THE THINGS.
The past few months went by so fast. We could have been parents right now. But we aren't, and honestly, I highly doubt we ever will be. I'm not being negative, I'm being factual. When you do the math and the science, there isn't any probable reason why we shouldn't have at least a couple kids by now. It's time to try and move on. We can't go on like this. I don't want to be angry at all the women I know who are ready to pop any moment, and I can't get angry at friends who can conceive whenever they want to. It isn't doing me any good to get mad every time I go on Facebook and see people complaining about how hard it is to be 9 months pregnant, because honestly I would kill to be in their shoes right now. I expected that I would be in their shoes right now. But like I said, it isn't doing me any good. It's driving me crazy, and it is unhealthy, and I KNOW that I am better and stronger than that.
We have decided not to do any fertility treatments. I don't trust it, and even after you take out the financial hardship of it all, I don't think that mentally I am strong enough to put myself through it. I don't know what we'll do. We've talked about being foster parents, we've talked about adoption. Who knows, maybe we'll end up being that couple that spends all their money travelling and taking pictures of their food. Maybe we will get pregnant again and nature will deem us to be good enough to procreate, and carry on our family lines.
I'm still angry with Nature, and I'm still not happy about your pregnancies, and all you people that have it so damn easy, but that will pass. I'm working on it. We are still mourning the life I thought I was bringing into the world. The baby that we named and made birth plans for and planned a whole new life around, that we don't get to have. We are mourning our future plans, and frantically trying to come up with new ones.
But, life is good right now. I have the best husband. In my wildest dreams I never thought that I would be lucky enough to have a partner like him. I have a supportive and fabulously silly family. I have two goofy dogs. I have so many friends. I love my house, I love where I live, I love my day job, and all my little projects I have on the side too. It's very hard to think of something that isn't all kinds of awesome in my life.
It's time to let myself start healing, and enjoying things wholeheartedly again. Wish me luck.
The past few months went by so fast. We could have been parents right now. But we aren't, and honestly, I highly doubt we ever will be. I'm not being negative, I'm being factual. When you do the math and the science, there isn't any probable reason why we shouldn't have at least a couple kids by now. It's time to try and move on. We can't go on like this. I don't want to be angry at all the women I know who are ready to pop any moment, and I can't get angry at friends who can conceive whenever they want to. It isn't doing me any good to get mad every time I go on Facebook and see people complaining about how hard it is to be 9 months pregnant, because honestly I would kill to be in their shoes right now. I expected that I would be in their shoes right now. But like I said, it isn't doing me any good. It's driving me crazy, and it is unhealthy, and I KNOW that I am better and stronger than that.
We have decided not to do any fertility treatments. I don't trust it, and even after you take out the financial hardship of it all, I don't think that mentally I am strong enough to put myself through it. I don't know what we'll do. We've talked about being foster parents, we've talked about adoption. Who knows, maybe we'll end up being that couple that spends all their money travelling and taking pictures of their food. Maybe we will get pregnant again and nature will deem us to be good enough to procreate, and carry on our family lines.
I'm still angry with Nature, and I'm still not happy about your pregnancies, and all you people that have it so damn easy, but that will pass. I'm working on it. We are still mourning the life I thought I was bringing into the world. The baby that we named and made birth plans for and planned a whole new life around, that we don't get to have. We are mourning our future plans, and frantically trying to come up with new ones.
But, life is good right now. I have the best husband. In my wildest dreams I never thought that I would be lucky enough to have a partner like him. I have a supportive and fabulously silly family. I have two goofy dogs. I have so many friends. I love my house, I love where I live, I love my day job, and all my little projects I have on the side too. It's very hard to think of something that isn't all kinds of awesome in my life.
It's time to let myself start healing, and enjoying things wholeheartedly again. Wish me luck.
Aug 11, 2011
Honesty
To be honest, I've been thinking of just ending this blog for the past couple months. I haven't felt like writing, and when I do feel like writing, I don't know where to start. Being me, I always have a lot to say, but I don't know if I get that feeling of comfort that I once did when I told the Internet all of my secrets. I have always had a hard time talking to people about the truly hard times in my life, but writing, online and off, has helped me work through many issues, and it helps me to vent what I can't say verbally. I've done it my whole life, but now, for some reason, I just can't get that pen, or keyboard, to do what I want it to.
Six months ago, I wrote a long post about our struggle to make a baby, our ideas on how we would raise a baby if it ever came, and how grown up I felt that I was actually mentally ready to do the whole parenting thing. I deleted that post last week, having never actually taken the two seconds to post it here.
Fifteen weeks ago, I wrote a post, all full of sunshine and rainbows and unicorns, announcing to my blog readers that after almost three years of not using any contraceptive devices, we had finally fertilized an egg and there was a little hamster growing inside of me. I didn't post it. Maybe some part of me knew that I shouldn't spread the news just yet.
One month ago, I wanted to write all about our horrible experience of losing the baby that we had wanted so badly. I wanted to tell you the whole story, a story we have never actually told in its entirety to anyone yet. I wanted to tell you about all the blood and the surgery and the horrific doctors and wonderful nurses, and how I was afraid I was dying. I wanted to tell you about my guilt in losing the first grandchild, the first niece or nephew, and my fear that maybe my parts just don't work, and I'm not ever going to be able to give anyone that baby they want so badly. I wanted to tell you how much I hate when people say "That's okay, you can always try again!", as if we don't know that, and already know that babies don't come so easily to some of us. I wanted to write about what bullshit it is that a miscarriage should just be forgotten about, that you should just move on, and pretend like it never happened. I wanted to give everyone a good ol' talking too who didn't think that my husband was just as devastated as I was. I wanted to tell you how my D & C experience made me even more pro-choice than I was before. I wanted to express all of my pain and anger and sadness....but I didn't. I just bottled it up.
Today, as I drank a cold cup of coffee, that I was too lazy to warm up, I realized that I need to keep writing. If not here, then somewhere, because I am losing my mind, keeping everything in. I am lucky in life, that I have a husband who is open and honest and with whom I can talk to about anything. I am lucky that I have family and friends that have expressed their concern, and have offered ears and shoulders to listen and to lean on. But being me, I have a hard time taking people up on those offers. I find comfort in the solitude that comes with writing, whether it be for the Internet, or in a personal journal. I would rather talk to myself most days, than talk to other human beings. It's just how I've always been. A social butterfly on the outside, and a perfectly content loner on the inside. The two sides, they clash sometimes, but it works for me.
So, I've decided to stick around. But I'm warning you, it won't be all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns around here for awhile, because I've got some shit to work out.
Six months ago, I wrote a long post about our struggle to make a baby, our ideas on how we would raise a baby if it ever came, and how grown up I felt that I was actually mentally ready to do the whole parenting thing. I deleted that post last week, having never actually taken the two seconds to post it here.
Fifteen weeks ago, I wrote a post, all full of sunshine and rainbows and unicorns, announcing to my blog readers that after almost three years of not using any contraceptive devices, we had finally fertilized an egg and there was a little hamster growing inside of me. I didn't post it. Maybe some part of me knew that I shouldn't spread the news just yet.
One month ago, I wanted to write all about our horrible experience of losing the baby that we had wanted so badly. I wanted to tell you the whole story, a story we have never actually told in its entirety to anyone yet. I wanted to tell you about all the blood and the surgery and the horrific doctors and wonderful nurses, and how I was afraid I was dying. I wanted to tell you about my guilt in losing the first grandchild, the first niece or nephew, and my fear that maybe my parts just don't work, and I'm not ever going to be able to give anyone that baby they want so badly. I wanted to tell you how much I hate when people say "That's okay, you can always try again!", as if we don't know that, and already know that babies don't come so easily to some of us. I wanted to write about what bullshit it is that a miscarriage should just be forgotten about, that you should just move on, and pretend like it never happened. I wanted to give everyone a good ol' talking too who didn't think that my husband was just as devastated as I was. I wanted to tell you how my D & C experience made me even more pro-choice than I was before. I wanted to express all of my pain and anger and sadness....but I didn't. I just bottled it up.
Today, as I drank a cold cup of coffee, that I was too lazy to warm up, I realized that I need to keep writing. If not here, then somewhere, because I am losing my mind, keeping everything in. I am lucky in life, that I have a husband who is open and honest and with whom I can talk to about anything. I am lucky that I have family and friends that have expressed their concern, and have offered ears and shoulders to listen and to lean on. But being me, I have a hard time taking people up on those offers. I find comfort in the solitude that comes with writing, whether it be for the Internet, or in a personal journal. I would rather talk to myself most days, than talk to other human beings. It's just how I've always been. A social butterfly on the outside, and a perfectly content loner on the inside. The two sides, they clash sometimes, but it works for me.
So, I've decided to stick around. But I'm warning you, it won't be all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns around here for awhile, because I've got some shit to work out.
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