Sunday, September 23, 2007

"How are you?"

I get this question quite frequently. When I say 'what do you mean ?' they say 'you know, how are you?' Well, here's how I really am.

I am fine.

That answer is never good enough. Although it is partially true. I feel physically fine other than the fact that I have a bladder infection and I feel like I have to pee all damn day long. I decided to take A.zo (an OTC med to ease the symptoms-it works) and on the label it says it may discolor urine so be sure to take precautions concerning undergarments. I thought nothing of it and completely disregarded that comment. I was completely SHOCKED when I went to the bathroom and the toilet bowl was stained with my orange urine. I pee orange and not because I am a University of Texas fan. It ranges in color through out the day from bright yellow to deep red orange. It's really odd and frankly, creepy. In the morning, I have to turn the light on to take a better look, because I keep thinking I have started my period. I have not.

I have not had a period since July 11th. That's not normal for me. I don't know why I have not started and I should go to the doctor, but I haven't because I don't have a doctor to go to. I quit my doctor because I feel like she let my baby die and I don't want to go back to her. She is a fine doctor, if you are normal, but I am not. My insurance expired and Mr. H and I are getting new insurance, but there is always that waiting period. I now have to find someone else who is willing to care for me and can help me obtain a child.

I want an asterisk by my blog name. On the miscarriage/stillbirth blog site, the blog owners who have children or who are in their subsequent pregnancy after a loss get an asterisk by their names. I want one. I want people who are about to read my blog know that there is life inside me. But there isn't.

I am okay with my friends being pregnant. I am truly excited for them and I can't wait for their babies to be born (because I'm going to steal one on them). In the beginning it was hard to accept, because I wanted to pregnant along with them. They deserve to be parents to living children as much as I do and I wish them the very best. I know it will happen for us, I just wish _______ (fill in the blank).

It is not hard for me to see babies or pregnant women in public. I don't mind it at all because they deserve to have that happiness and I just pray that they never have to go through what I have. They deserve their innocence. I wish I still had mine. It is hard to hear women bitch about their pregnancies. I don't care about your swollen feet, and your indigestion. I wish I had it that bad. I once read that morning sickness was a sign of a good, healthy pregnancy. Maybe that explains why I was never sick. I just thought that God spared me the nausea because he knew what was going to happen and he didn't want me to suffer too much. Ha!

****WARNING***This may be too difficult for some to comprehend and it may offend you. If you are that type, please don't read the rest of this entry****

Speaking of God, I thought he was kind of like Santa Claus. I thought he always knew what you were doing and what you were thinking and feeling. Well then why is it when I prayed to him during my pregnancies, he didn't understand me? I prayed for a healthy baby. How simple is that? I didn't want to be selfish and start requesting stupid shit like the 10 toes, eye color, or the gender. I just wanted a healthy baby. Well I got that. I got two of them. My boys were perfect. They were completely healthy. But they were dead. I guess I forgot to pray about that. I should have been more specific when I prayed to God. Next time I will pray for a normal, healthy, living, breathing on it's own, baby boy or girl (but not a mixed gender) from my own womb that will belong to me and my husband. Oh, and that I will live long enough to live out my dream of being a mother.

Also, miscarriage vs. stillbirth. This is a touchy subject for me. I know technically a miscarriage is a loss of a pregnancy prior to 20 weeks gestation. I fall into this category. A stillbirth is a loss of a pregnancy after 20 weeks. It's simple. But not really. I hate saying that I had a miscarriage because I feel that that term somehow discounts life. Like the loss was not really a child, not really real. Those two babies were very real, they are my children and regardless of when I lost them, it was still a loss of a dream, of hope and of lives that once grew inside me. People hear the term miscarriage and they automatically think that there was a clump of cells in my body that is no longer there and it's no big deal. Like I didn't lose a baby at all. Well let me tell you something, they may have been a clump of cells as you are and I am, but they also had beating hearts and fingers and toes and personalities. They were very much real, only too small to make it on their own. So fuck off and don't look at me like my losses, my clumps of cells, are insignificant.

****Safe to continue reading****

Other than these slight frustrations, I am okay. I am not an angry person. I am not a jealous person (all the time). I smile and laugh daily. I am not depressed. I am sad that my boys did not make it. I think about them everyday, all day. I miss them more than you know and more than I could ever explain. I am hopeful for the future. I know that I am a mother to children who are not here with me and that I will be a mother to other children as well. We will start trying again when it feels right for both of us regardless of the timing. It could be tomorrow, it could be next year. But I think about building a family several times a day and sometimes it hurts. I know ankle biters are in our future somewhere down the line and I can't wait. In the meantime, I am happy with my husband, my furry children and my angel babies. We have a beautiful home and don't want for material things. I have a great supportive family and I am fine.


Monica said...

I'm sorry about your bladder infection. Do you know when your insurance will start again? Yeah, you should definitely have your lack of period investigated. Are you still seeing Dr. Boyd? Although I think you mentioned that her recommendation was, "get pregnant".

It's hard for me to believe you aren't angry at other pregnant women like I am. But then again I have the "anger issues" and you have the "sadness issues". And the whole G_d thing.. I'm not really sure how that works either. I thought he was a benevolent G_D, a just G_d... And I also don't know how to pray. But want to know a secret? I just ignore him/her and I'm all about the Bear spirit. Forgive me for writing this as I've never been much of a Christian, but why pray to something that gave his own son up? Just asking... About the miscarriage vs. stillbirth. You are right, it is all about the attachment. One of the things that I find more difficult to deal with and more heart wrenching is that your boys were born alive. Sometimes I ask myself, "how can she deal with that". One thing that brings me comfort is that Jimmy died inside me. Don't know why, but I always thought that would be easier to bear than the thought of them dying outside me. But I speak only for myself and not others. People who know you would never doubt your love for your sons and how the loss of them affected you and Sam. I remember my mom awkwardly saying something like that (that our loss was "especially cruel because of the timing") and it came out like she was saying that our loss was worse. She meant that he was already supposed to be born but our F-ing doctor messed up. But that too isnt right because they are both equally cruel. I'll never forget how Sam told her that time wasn't the determining factor. I don't know what to tell to those people who don't get it besides "F-off".

I'm not sure why all this stuff has happened to you. I just hope that like your blog title, you still have hope. So many people think about you daily and care about you. We are all rooting for you and at the same time we think about you, Sam, baby Sam, and Jack. You've got to be the strongest person I know. I know you don't want to be. If I had to put together a secret elite force, girl..you know I'd pick ya. I hope that when you join Worth's group, it helps.

Lori said...

I feel the exact same way you do regarding miscarriage vs. stillbirth. I lost Logan in my 20th week (technically 19 weeks 3 days) and he was considered a "miscarriage". I consider it a stillbirth...especially since he was still alive when I gave birth to him. I think that people think it's "No big deal" when you have a miscarriage since everyone is told that it normally happens within the 1st trimester. I believe things need to be re-evaluated.

Monica said...

Because your last post got to me, and because I hadn't been by in a while and meant to, I stopped by today and talked to Sam and Jack. I left them each three white roses tied in a blue ribbon. I told them what great parents you are and how much you loved them. I'm not sure what else to tell you to help you. I like to say that you are in the valley now, but I know you are coming out of it. Someday you'll stand on the peak and be able to enjoy life again. Sure, you will always miss your boys and mourn for them. But I know that things will change for you. I just wish I could tell you when and how.

Monica H said...

Thank you both for your comments. I didn't intend for it to become a pity post. I just wanted to say how I truly feel. When people ask how I am they expect me to say I am great, I'm moving on with my life and that everything is just perfectly fine. That's bullshit and I can't say it. They don't really want to hear how I am because that entails a lot of details. A lot of details they relly aren't interested in. It's almost like they ask because it makes them feel better (like they are concerned). But when I say I am just fine, it's never believable/acceptable.

Thank you for going to see the boys. Sam and I are on our way htere now. I haven't cried in a while and after reading your comments the sprinklers turned on.

I love you both and I am thankful to have you in my life. I don't know where I would be with my support group friends. Probably in a valley- a deep, deep valley. You guys just get it and it makes my life easier.

Our new insurance (I think) has been approved, we're just waiting for paperwork and the cards and such. But I still have to find a doctor. I am leaning towards one lady in particular, but we'll see.
Dr. Boyd's advice was to get pregnant. I wish I could take it. It's just so hard, but I'm ready to take that leap. I haven't seen her since our insurance expired b/c she charges $120 each visit. I can't afford that right now. Besides I was thinking of seeing Worth as well. I really am looking forward to going to the next group he has starting next month.

Lori- Are you going to go?

Kristi said...

I too hate when people ask how we are doing. Unless they ask about a specific situation, I'll just answer, "I'm good."
I also disagree with the stillbirth vs. miscarriage. I'm sure a loss at any stage is difficult, but like you've said it is the attachment. I've seen your sons' pictures, they are tiny perfect babies - not a cluster of cells.
DH & I think you & Sam, & Baby Sam & Baby Jack often. We hope for you, hope for a successful pregnancy when you're ready.

niobe said...

It's sad, the way labels seem to make our losses seem less significant. Yes, a miscarriage doesn't sound as painful as a stillbirth, especially to people who haven't experienced either one. Similarly, I get a lot more sympathy for the twin who was born alive and lived for a few hours than I do for the twin who died before being born. My rabbi said that it was better that my baby died shortly after being born, rather than living for a few days or weeks or years, as though my pain should be diminished because her life was so short.

It seems there's a whole hierarchy of loss, which seems to tell us that our losses really weren't all that important, that we shouldn't really feel so bad.

Rachel said...

I totally agree with you about the pre-20 weeks miscarriage vs. a stillbirth. I lost my baby at 10 weeks, and he was a tiny, tiny baby with arms and legs. When you tell people that you have a miscarriage (sometimes even if they too had one) they don't think of your baby as a "real" baby.

I wish you luck in the healing process.

Becky said...

Hi Monica,

I feel for you. What you wrote is how I've been feeling for the last 9 months and 1 day since Riley was born. I think there gets to a point, perhaps after a second devestating loss, that you start to change. Instead of being angry with others, you question what you did wrong and put a lot of blame on yourself. Instead of deep greif, it's just deep, deep sadness and hurt. It's as if it becomes a way of life that other's just don't understand. How do you explain a way of life to a person that just wants to know about today? I answer a generic...I'm Ok...no better...no worse.

And when I tell people about my boys, I usually tell them that I had two sons that were stillborn. I've also had 2 early miscarriages and I wouldn't say that I was emotionally attached to them like I was with Dylan and Riley. But along with telling people they were stillborn, I explain that they were born premature and didn't survive. Dylan passed inside me, and Riley took one sweet breath. When people ask my mom if she has grandchildren, she answers, "Two that I cannot hold. They were born to premature to survive."

And let me tell you something about God...I prayed like the perfect Catholic girl when I was pregnant with Riley. I thought that maybe I didn't pray enough for Dylan. So I started praying...every night to different people. Sometimes to the Virgin Mary, sometimes to St. Christopher to protect us...and other times went to church and lit candles galore! Nothing worked. So are my prayers not good enough? Am I not worthy of having what other's achieve so naturally and easily? Sometimes, I truly think yes. That I'm not GOOD enough to have a child. That other people are WORTHY of being a parent, but I'm not. And the good days, like today, I see that as being rediculous. I deserve everything that everyone else has. Just as you do.

In fact, I deserve to shout from the rooftops when I reach 24w pregnant. I deserve to complain about my swollen ankles and killer heartburn because it'll be the only thing that I have to complain about. And I deserve to show every person I meet an obnoxious ammount of pictures of my living, breathing child. And most of all, I deserve to be a mother.

It's ok to feel the way you do. When you feel the time is ready, you will know. And if you need a place to stay *wink wink* to come and see Dr. Davis you can stay here! Hahaha! I can honestly say that the man works miracals!