She Smiles Yet Her Heart Throbs

December 6, 2013

It's been awhile so I thought I would give an update.  This post will most likely be random as my emotions are obviously a big huge twisted random piece.

I'll start off with the "tougher" stuff.

1.  intrauterine fetal demise, the subject line from my OB's office.  I had to email my doctor to send a note to HR verifying I had a stillbirth for my bereavement days.  They sent me a copy and Jude's death was listed as this.  I googled it and it said "a pregnancy that died in the womb."  This caused a HUGE wave of "NO HE DIDN't"  one of the hardest things I've been dealing with is the fact that I had to hear Jude's strong heartbeat daily and I felt him moving around as they gave me the epidural.  He was killed because I was forced to deliver-he died as he came out because he was too young.  He didn't just randomly "die in my womb."  One of the hardest pills for me to swallow with this is that he was so perfect and so ALIVE.

2.  the phrase "I couldn't have handled that."   When people ask to hear what happened, I tell

them.  It's therapeutic.  I don't want to act like nothing happened.  Yesterday a mom of twins was talking to me and said the phrase with a shutter.  I looked at her and said "neither could I." If you would have told me at my gender reveal party that I was going to vaginally deliver my babies, at 2 different times, and go through all the contractions/pain all to have them die, I would have said "never in a million years could I do it."  And guess what? Life had other plans and when it's in your face, you have to.  I loved this idea-losing a child is something you can never imagine before or AFTER it happens.  It's so true. I have now done it twice yet I cannot imagine it. 

3.  Pregnancy.  The last 2.5 weeks have been 2 steps forward, one step back.  However, as a ttc blog, I follow tons of people trying to get pregnant and it happens; I'm also 30.  I'm right in that zone of people that are starting their families.    I have been so drowned in sorrow over the loss of my sweet and so-longed-for babies that I simply forgot that people around me are totally going to get pregnant all the time.  Where weeks ago, since I thought I was in the "safe zone" it was so easy to "root" for people since I FINALLY was in that zone, but now I am so angry at pregnancy.  Realizing that this could have been my only one, I embraced it.  I LOVED being pregnant.  I loved my stomach growing.  The kicks were out of this world.  The celebrating and anticipating.  And the BAM pregnancy played a cruel trick on me and robbed me of my dreams.

I hate it now.  I hate it because I still want it because I want children but it scares me.  I hate it for scaring me-if I ever manage to do it again I will be horrified month after month.  I hate it because i don't trust it.  Most of all I hate it because most women have the luxury of getting a positive pregnancy test and then believing it.  They become so excited and they go on to have a normal pregnancy.  I envy that un-jaded joy that new-moms get.  I will never ever have that.  Pregnancy really really let me down.  With 3 years of infertility I mastered the skill of "happy for them, sad for me."  Obviously right now I'm not "happy for them" because it just causes all of these flashbacks of things going wrong.  I know I will get to that place again, but I am so scared for the future "surprise" announcements from friends and family-I also accept that I am dead center in the zone of people who are getting pregnant and I know with time, I will again learn to cope-I'm mad at pregnancy because of the sadness it causes me when other people are expecting and I feel so guilty.

*Side note for people who get pregnant normally-more than likely you know someone infertile struggling/fighting to get pregnant.  The best thing you can do for her is to tell her when you get pregnant in an email or text.  It is the most sensitive and sweetest thing you can do as a friend-allow her to process it how she needs to.  It stings very bad initially and we do not want to cry in front of you (or worse in public when you do a surprise announcement) or have to respond instantly.  We eventually decided to be truly happy for women who achieve this and who don't have to struggle-we just have been so hurt.  I promise you don't have to tip toe or "hide" it from us.  Both my sister and sister in law did this for me in a gentle/distant way and it was so kind. 

4.  Why?  They have done several tests and so far haven't found where the infection was.  I hate that.


In other news:

1.  Grieving.  How do you grieve?  I have never in my life been faced with such sorrow.  Oddly, one of the greatest comforts has come from other moms who have lost multiples.  I have really struggled with the fact that I had to deal with stillborns TWICE.  To do it, and then have to do it all again has been overwhelmingly painful.  Another mom of lost triplets contacted me and she had to do it all too, but three times.  Two out of 3 of her babies lived for awhile.  She had it worse.  Other moms have lost twins at 30 weeks.  They have it worse.  We know someone who lost their live baby to SIDS.  If I constantly remind myself that it could have been worse, that bad things happen and life truly is "unfair" I can breathe.  Although I hate with my entire being what happened, I also "accept" that life has no promises and that just because I'm a Christian doesn't guarantee a pain free life.  I read a quote I LOVED:

 I can function.  I started back to work just 2 weeks after I kissed Jude's forehead goodbye.  I can smile.  I can laugh.  The students have no idea the level of pain I'm dealing with.  But then one thing happens and I can go into sobs.  I saw a picture of Brinly's hands for the first time.  I saw a woman with a huge stomach unexpectantly at the store.  I see the blanket I held Jude in, his one earthy possession.  I realize I just went through a crazy blender and have been shoot out asked to wonder what just happened? Yes, I can function.  But as mentioned "she smiles but her heart throbs." I feel like a heavy wet blanket of deep deep sadness is on me all the time.  I know it will get better with time but what a non-fun thing to carry.

2.  Next Steps:  As mentioned, despite the living hell we just experienced, we are not done in this fight.  We were too close to quit.  I want to cross that finish line.  I get to meet with our specialist at the end of the month and we will go from there.  What are the odds of this happening to me again (pPROM)?  If it's higher than 10% I'm almost 100% we will continue to knock on the door of surrogacy.  If it's lower, I'm still scared.  They suggest I get a cerclage no matter how many embryos implant since I had one before BUT when you sign the cerclage consent form it says there is a chance of water breaking, pre-term labor, and infection (all words that cause massive anxiety because those are all the reasons why Brinly and Jude and NOT in my stomach as I type).  I'm not sure if I can mentally handle another pregnancy and if there is risk, I don't want to send another baby to heaven if my body continues to be a "war zone." 

3. The human spirit:  It is amazing how kind "mankind" can be.  Someone anonymously sent us $100 and said it was on their hearts-Thank you to that person.  Just today on my doorstep was a little pink box. It didn't say who it was from but there were 4 charms with the letters "J, B, I, J"  I instantly knew it was for Jude and Brinly but I had to stare at the I and J again.  Then it hit me "Isaac" and "Jayden" our earlier miscarriages. How incredibly and overwhelmingly kind-I cried and cried holding it in my hands looking down and missing my 4 could-have-been and should-have-been babies and I cried because someone is so intertwined with our loss.  Those 4 letters on that necklace are more than any 4000 words of comfort. Thank you to you too.