I'm moving.

Don't worry, I'm not leaving the barn just yet, I'm just moving my blog over to here: http://bodegabliss.wordpress.com/

I decided to take the leap and so far, I'm much happier. My Mom was having a hard time figuring out how to comment on blogger since they make you sign up with a stupid Google account, so now there should be no problems. Plus, don't we all want to know what my mom has to say? I know I do.

See you over there!

I take it back.

Remember when I said bring it on body, I can handle it? This isn't what I had in mind. Can you please stop listening to me now, body?

Please?

An sort-of-but-nothing-has-changed update.

I had yet another doctor's appointment today for the miscarriage that will never end. I hate waiting for the doctor. Why do they bother putting you in a back room only to make you wait for another 20 minutes for the doctor to come and see you? I hate that I'm still in pain, that my body won't heal. Wasn't it punishment enough that I lost the child I was carrying, that now I have to still be dealing with the aftermath almost 6 weeks later? The medical assistant who took my blood pressure (and who also happens to be the same man who butchered my arm when he tried to unsuccessfully take my blood a few weeks ago*) said before he was leaving the room, "Oh, you won't be needing the OB tray" as he lifts the basket and walks out the door, but not before he took a hold of the knife in my heart and jabbed it further in a few more times just to make sure it was securely in there. He had also told me that "Rain" (the doctor) would be in shortly. Are you serious? Rain? At that moment, I wanted to scream at West County. Hold my fists up and curse the hippies and their nonsense want-to-be-medicine. I would have given anything to have been back in Providence where they know a thing or two about medicine. Of course, it turned out I really liked her, even more than my previous doctor, and was secretly devising a plan to get her to be my friend (plus she wasn't as hippie as her name made her out to be). Still, they don't know what to do. No one knows what to do except tell me to wait it out. I finally said yes to the pain medication they've been trying to give me since this happened, although I'm not sure I"ll try it. And I left the office angry. Furious. Upset at my body, at the doctors, at the entire situation. I want this to be over. I want to feel normal. I want to run until all the pain goes away...but I can't run because it hurts. I have the constant feeling that someone is holding onto my left ovary and won't let go as I keep walking. I have an appointment with my acupuncturist on Monday and he's my last hope. I've read good things about eastern medicine being able to shrink cysts, and I'm holding out that it will work. I'm also planning a cleanse after my friend Sara (hi Sara!) comes to visit. Something has to work. Even though at this moment, I feel like I might be in this pain for the rest of my life. I know, that's not exactly positive thinking. But it's hard to remain positive when every day the pain is exactly as it was the day before.

On the upside, I was offered full-time with salary today, plus full benefits (health insurance that can't deny me!)...which means if I'm still in this pain come the time the health insurance kicks in, I can find a specialist or someone who can finally figure this out. And, like I mentioned, Sara is coming to visit in a week! That means I'll have something to take my mind off my pain for a little while. Plus, all the wine I'm planning on consuming while she's here can't hurt.

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*he actually said, when he finally took the needle out of my arm "I kept moving it around and I just couldn't get your vein." Just picture that for a moment, will you? He stuck the needle in, then just "kept moving it around" like it was a joystick trying to find my vein. Really? REALLY?!

Helpless

It was one month ago today that I lost the baby. It's been a difficult month. Some days are harder than others. One minute I'm happy and okay, the next minute I'm sobbing. The vivid flashes of what happened are excruciating. They hit me and I stop breathing. Every second of the miscarriage I can recall. Every ounce of fear and pain can come back to me in an instant.

I have realized in all the personal accounts of miscarriages I've read, no one has mentioned how helpless you feel when it's happening. You feel the pain, you start to bleed....and you can do absolutely nothing to stop what you know is going to happen. It's not like when you see an approaching car going right at you too fast, you can brake in an attempt to prevent an accident. Or when you're watching a child start to wobble, you can reach out and catch him before he falls. There was nothing I could do. I just had to sit and wait for the inevitable. I didn't want to believe what I knew was coming. I wanted to hold on to that hope with an iron grip and not let it go. But my body had a different plan and it wasn't going to listen. I was helpless. And that instant, the one where I knew I had passed the "tissue," is the one that flashes to me the most. I had started shaking uncontrollably. I know the exact lighting of the moment, what position Tim was sitting in, where my hands were, what the light outside was like. The fear I felt, the doubt, the instant sadness, it all engulfed me. All those feelings making me convulse. I wanted to reverse time, pretend like what just happened wasn't real. It was a nightmare. I spent all those weeks excited for what was to come, thankful that I was finally going to have a baby, and it was all over in less than an hour. How are you supposed to reverse months of excitement in an instant? I was empty, when two minutes before, I was full of what was to be. I had my baby, and then I didn't. I know these flashes will lesson over time, they'll be further and further apart eventually. But right now, they still consume me.

I'm having a hard time finding the feelings of excitement you get before you're going to try and get pregnant that I had before all of this happened. A part of me doesn't even want to. And the most ridiculous part of why I'm having such a hard time is the fact that I was going to have a fall baby. I'd be pregnant in the summer so I could wear dresses and I'd have a baby during my favorite time of the year. And now it will be a winter baby, and I don't want to be pregnant during the winter. I know all of this is just stupid, I know that...but everything was perfect. I'm a planner and I usually have a hard time when I have to stray from that plan. And yes, I also know that these sorts of things you can't plan. But I did. And it was going all according to plan. I know I need to let that go, I know that in the grand picture, that is not what is important. I'm working on it. There's a plan bigger than my plan, no matter how much I wanted a fall baby.

When I started this blog, a part of me feared that I would have to write this post. And here I am, writing the post I didn't ever want to write. I miscarried on Thursday. I would have been 8 weeks yesterday.

I'm very sad, having a difficult time getting out of bed and facing the world. I know I'll be okay, I can see that, but right now, I don't want to be okay just yet. I'm sad and I'm not ready to be anything but.

Thursday was horrible. The cramps didn't start until later in the day, with a little bit of brown spotting. I was hoping it was going to be okay, I played a good face at work and made it home without shedding a tear. But once I got home and the cramps got worse and the blood went from brown to bright red, I knew it was over. I laid on the couch curled in a ball, waiting for Tim to get home. When I had woke up that morning I had my hands on my belly and had mentioned to Tim that I could feel my pulse in my uterus. I thought it was just the blood going to my baby helping it grow, but I realize now that's not why the blood was rushing there. Tim was here with me when I passed the tissue. I can't tell you what that felt like. In between my shaking and sobs, I wanted it all to be a nightmare. This wasn't how I was supposed to be having our baby, this wasn't supposed to be happening. Tim has been everything I have needed and more. He has held me in the middle of the night when I couldn't stop crying. He has forced me to eat when it was the last thing I felt like doing. He has tried to make me smile. If it's possible, I love him even more after all of this...and it has made me realize just how badly I want to have a baby with him. My doctor has also been beyond amazing. She called me the next morning to check on me because she had been thinking about me all night, and even came to the hospital to be there for me when I had the ultrasound, when she wasn't even working. I wasn't sure doctors were capable of being so caring anymore.

Yesterday Tim and I went to a tree in a field at a place that has been special to us, and we buried what was to be our baby. It felt like something I had to do in order to move on, in order to get out of bed. Before I got pregnant, I would say how my body wanted a baby so badly, that it felt empty. That wasn't empty. I want so badly to still be pregnant, to not feel the grief that I feel right now. I want to look into the mirror and not see my flat-again stomach. I want to be getting fat and still be dreaming of our baby.

I want to not feel so empty.

Product manual included inside!

I feel like our bodies should be given manuals for when we're pregnant, complete with a troubleshooting guide for when you're not sure what's going on or think something is wrong. I would most often need this section:

5) Pain in lower abdomen --

• a. Look in history and determine what you may have eaten in the last 24 hours. Could something have caused you to have severe gas that results in pain that you never felt like this before being pregnant? If you determine it could possibly be something you ate, wait it out and try not to panic. In addition, keep the sheets down, no one likes a dutch oven.
  

• b. If symptoms include a dull pain, recall the 6 hours you just waitressed and raced back and forth from table to table. Ask tables if they really care if their food is still hot when they get it, or if they wouldn't mind if you just slowed down a little bit.
  

Also, maybe this section:

2) No outwardly signs of pregnancy --

• a. Please refer to positive pregnancy tests 1, 2, 3, and 4.

• b. Are you missing something that usually comes every 30 days or so? If you seem to have misplaced the monthly flow, chances are: you're pregnant.

• c. How are those boobs?

And also this one:

8) Lack of nausea --

• Pregnant women everywhere are angry at you for referring to this section. DO NOT mention this to anyone who may have already been pregnant, or may become pregnant.
  

Websites don't always ease your mind because everyone's body is different. Another pregnant woman may not ever experience indigestion, and if they do, they may not have a pain in that exact spot that instantly makes you think something is wrong because of it's proximity to the growing baby. I need a manual catered just to me, to my body's quirkiness. It's scary being pregnant. I know I'm driving Tim crazy when I panic about every little twitch, when I think that the throb in my right knee indicates that everything possible is going wrong. I hope I will start to feel more confident. I have glimpses of this, where I put my hand on my belly and send it strength to keep growing. I know it's all going to be okay, that in less than 8 months I'll have a beautiful baby in my arms. Then where's the manual for that?

Mommy

My gal is pregnant and loves random names like Sophielillla Jackson and such. No not really, my favorite name so far is Finn. We are stoked. We have a walk-in closet that Court thinks might do as a room for the kid. That's great, we will stick the child in there with the jackets, it will be warm. I like how she's always giving updates on what is developing inside. She's doing yoga which is great, I'm proud of Mommy. We'll keep you updated on when Sooophillilla or Napoleon is born. Or plain Jim.

Tim