This blog was started as a way to work through the grief of losing my baby March 9, 2011. I found reading stories of other women comforting while I've been going through this and hope that I can help anyone else experiencing the same thing.

Friday, August 26, 2011


I'm still feeling a bit down. I've been wanting to write in here all week, but this is my busiest week of the year. I run a campus recreation center on a University campus and the students are coming back this week. I have so many obligations during this week. So I've been busy.

There are a few people on campus that I'm friends with and wanted to share with them my newest sadness, just because I felt they would understand or have some sympathy for me.

Sometimes sharing is a mistake. I told one person and she was really understanding during my last miscarriage. But this time when I told her I had a miscarriage around 6 1/2 weeks she said "Oh we just find out way too early we are pregnant these days.". I was like seriously???? Um 6 1/2 weeks for me was like 2 missed periods since I have 25 day periods. I looked it up and it was 48 days that I was pregnant. So yeah basically 2 missed periods. You don't think I would have figured it out even without a test by then? It just seemed like a really dismissive thing to say.

I think I'll keep it to myself from now on unless someone really seems like they know something is going on with me. I think this sucks though because there is an odd silencing thing going on around miscarriage. People just don't talk about it unless it happens to them or once it happens to them they might share it with someone else it happens to. Why is there a stigma around this? Why are people idiots about knowing what to say?

Friday, August 12, 2011

Miscarriage #2

Yep. That's right. I had another miscarriage. J and I found out we were expecting again on July 13th. We were on vacation and were climbing the highest mountains in New York, Vermont and Maine. We had already climbed Mount Marcy in New York and took a gondola to the top of Mount Mansfield in Vermont and were staying in a hotel in Bangor Maine on our way to the highest mountain in Maine. I brought some cheap internet HPTs with me to test with on vacation since I knew it would be within my testing period.

The morning of July 13th I got up and used first morning urine to test. There was a faint line on my Wondofo test strip. I got excited and took another one. Same faint line. So I woke J up and asked him if he saw a line. He said he did sort of. So it was only about 5a.m. at this time. I waited until 9 (impatiently) to run to a drugstore and get 2 more tests. I got myself an FRER (the gold standard of early tests) and a digital (love seeing the word "pregnant"). Well guess what??? They were both negative. I was 10dpo at this time. We weren't sure what to think. So we decided to let it go and test again.

The next day we were at a campground in Baxter State Park in Maine. When I woke up in the morning I went over to the outhouse and took a Wondofo and a FRER. Both had double lines! I woke J up and showed him. He says "oh so does this mean we aren't pregnant?". I don't think he could see the 2nd line. So I pointed the line out to him and he finally got it. So yep. Pregnant.

That day our plan was to hike Mount Katahdin, the highest mountain in Maine. J wondered if I wanted to just stay at the campsite and skip the climbing. I told him that at this point in a pregnancy it will either stick or not and there was nothing I could do to change it. I decided to go hiking. We hiked the mountain and it was very strenuous!

Fast forward a few weeks to last week. August 3rd. We had our very first doctor's appointment at 6 weeks 1 day. I wanted to go early so we could start discussing early testing options like CVS. The doctor gave me a pelvic exam and determined that my uterus was growing like it should. He did not give us an ultrasound saying that it was too early (which irritated me because last time we had an ultrasound that early...why can't doctors be consistent?).

So Thursday, August 4th we were in Cornell brining our dog up there for surgery. After we dropped her off we stopped somewhere for lunch. I headed into the bathroom before ordering and immediately noticed blood on the TP when I wiped. It was kind of pinkish. I ran out of the bathroom and out of the restaurant with J following me. I started to cry and he knew immediately that something was wrong with the pregnancy. We got in the car and I put in a call to my OB/GYN. They were busy so the secretary said she would have them call me back.

That night the OB/GYN did not call me back. The next day the bleeding was still only slight spotting on the TP,and none on a pad. So I tried calling the doctor again and let them know I was a bit irritated that they hadn't returned my call yesterday. The nurse said that her report said I was going to the ER so they weren't worried about me. I was doubly upset because that wasn't the case. She checked with the doctor and they agreed to let us come in for an ultrasound that day.

We saw the doctor Friday morning 8/4 at about 10:30 a.m. When he did the ultrasound we could immediately tell that it didn't look right. There was only a tiny, little sac and the doctor said it was measuring about 5 weeks-no embryo or anything else visible. He talked about how maybe our dates were off and I informed him that I had been charting and knew exactly when I ovulated. He stated that it was mostly likely a miscarriage then. He was going on vacation the next week and scheduled me an ultrasound in one week with a different doctor. He didn't really give me any more info about what it might be like if I miscarried naturally. He did say something about going to the ER if the bleeding or cramping got bad and the ER would help us manage the micarriage. That was the extent of the advice.

So I left his office feeling really awful. J and I were once again broken. Life just won't give us a break. Our dog was in the hospital and we learn our 2nd baby is gone just like the first. We were once again reminded how badly life sucks.

That weekend I continued to bleed lighly, mostly on TP when I wiped. But on Sunday the bleeding started to intensify and started to seep onto a pad. By Monday I was bleeding heavily and in a great deal of pain. Monday afternoon I was sitting in the bathroom for hours at a time while I bled. J started to get worried and decided we needed to go to the ER. So we made the trip up to the hospital where our OB is at (it's about an hour and 15 minutes away). At the ER they did absolutely nothing. We were there for 4 hours. When we finally saw a doctor he said that my bloodwork came back fine. I wasn't anemic and my blood count was normal. He said that the pain was normal and he really wouldn't perscribe anything for it. He was a very compassionate doctor though and shared with us his story of 5 losses.

So we went home that night and I went to bed. The next day, Tuesday, the pain was even worse and the bleeding was awful. I hurt so bad that I was crying and throwing up while sitting on the toilet. J had no idea what to do for me. Later that afternoon the pain subsided a little bit and I was able to sleep for a while. During that episode I called the OB/GYN office and begged them to perscribe me something, as well as my primary care doctor. I was so pissed off that none of them bothered to call me back. Then the next day the OB/GYN called me back and said they would perscribe me some vicodin even though after I described what I had been through, they felt the worst was over. So I went to pick up the vicodin and there were 2 different perscriptions for it because the OB/GYN sent some and my primary care doctor sent some--but hadn't informed me.

I'm just so pissed off about not only the miscarriage, but also about the treatment I've received from the medical community. At the same time we were dealing with this miscarriage we were also dealing with our dog being hurt. Her doctors at Cornell called us 2 and 3 times a day. They made sure we knew what was going on, they kept us informed. While my doctor barely gave a shit that I was in so much pain I was throwing up. What the hell is wrong with this world that veterinary care is better than human care? It really pisses me off.

So what we thought would be our rainbow baby ended up being lost baby #2.

Thursday, August 4, 2011


I just want to let everyone know that I'm still having a hard time commenting on comments left on my blog and commenting on the blogs of others. I don't know why. I go to comment and Blogger sends me to the sign in page over and over. It never actually posts. So if anyone has any ideas on how to fix this let me know. I am sorry I'm not responding to comments or commenting on any of your blogs. It's because I can't :-(!!!


It's like we just can't get a break. This year has been one of the hardest, most heartbreaking years of my life. I'm at the point where every new thing that happens adds to my stress level and it's just going up, up, up without any relief. I really wish I could relieve some of this stress.

Two nights ago J and I were getting ready for bed. Our little dachshund Jazmine usually comes in the room with us and snuggles down on a blanket. Well that night she came in and then turned immediately around and went back downstairs. I guess we just thought she was going to get a drink or something. A few seconds later J started yelling and ran out, I guess he heard Jazmine crying and whining. So I ran out too and we found her at the bottom of the stairs with her back legs folded up under her. J thought at first that she broke her leg, but I realized immediately that it was different. He entire back body seemed to be paralyzed. She had no control of her legs, tail or back section. We both started to freak out.

We got the phone book out and called the only emergency vet for miles (still about 12 miles away). He answered the phone and said that it is actually pretty common and is a ruptured disk in her back. He warned that it would be expensive to bring her in and wanted to know if we really did want to bring her in. We didn't know what else to do so of course we had to take her in. When we got there the vet looked at her and confirmed it was a ruptured disk. He started to give us an idea of treatment. There were basically 2 or 3 options. The first option was to treat her in his office for a few days with steroids and pain killers and see how she does. The second option is surgery and the third option is a combination of the two. Right now it looks like we are doing a combination of the two. She has been there for 2 days now and we miss her.

We are waiting for a phone call from a neurosurgeon at Cornell to let us know if she is a candidate for surgery and if we should go that route. We are looking at about $1500 for the vet stay and then another $4000 for the surgery. Crazy huh? We just can't get a break.

All of this only a day after Bear's due date. It's almost too much to handle!

Tuesday, August 2, 2011


So I realize I haven't posted much lately. Originally writing in this blog was a healing thing for me. For the last month it hasn't really been what I needed in terms of healing and I let it slide. Finally I feel ready to come back and let this part of my healing again.

My due date was yesterday. There were many things about it that were awful, as I knew it would be. First, I kind of tried to avoid it by just forgetting what day it was. I let August creep up on me like a stealthy animal. I just sort of avoided noticing that the day was getting closer. Sounds crazy right? How can someone just ignore the fact that August 1st is coming? Totally ridiculous? But it worked for me. I knew the weekend was coming up and even used some tactics to stay busy.

My sister asked me to watch her 8 year old son on Friday night and I said yes thinking it might distract me. Then J asked me if we could go to a BBQ with some friends on Sunday. I said yes thinking it might distract me. I did plan to take Monday the 1st off the whole time, but I thought if I had enough things going on that the day would creep up on me and be one day where I could be sad and then move on.

It didn't happen like that of course. I've been distracted and cranky all week. I've snapped at J and cried lots this week. I've been impatient and irritable. I just ignored all those symptoms. I blamed it on other things.

By the time Sunday July 31st rolled around I was pretty much falling apart. We had agreed to go to a friend's house for a BBQ and I cried the entire way over. I'm pretty sure they thought I was just being a cranky bitch when I got there. They aren't like really close friends--so probably had no idea about the due date. While we were there J made arrangements to go fishing the next day. It was all I could do to keep from crying. Didn't he remember the next day was Bear's due date? Didn't he care? So the whole way home I cried too. Awesome right? He ended up calling and cancelling the fishing trip and then I felt bad. Didn't he deserve to try to handle the day in a way that best worked for him? Didn't he deserve to try to be happy. So then instead of just feeling crappy, I felt crappy and guilty. More awesomeness.

So once we got home on Sunday I continued to cry most of the night away. Oddly enough when I woke up on Monday, August 1st I wasn't feeling to awful. It wasn't until later in the day that it hit me. I just kept asking the same questions I had asked when we originally lost him:

Why did this happen to us?
Why did he have to get sick?
Why don't I get to have healthy babies?
Why does the universe hate me?
Why didn't this happen to someone else (lovely right?)?
Was there anything I could have done to stop it?
Why didn't I start having kids earlier in life?
Why do babies get sick and die?
Why do people who don't want kids get them and I don't?
Why did my baby have T21 if I am healthy and take care of myself?
What reason is there for chromosome issues in this world of ours?
How come I have to hurt so bad?
Will it always hurt this bad?
Why am I such a bad mom that I didn't get him cremated?
Will I ever have a baby?
Will I be able to have healthy babies?
and on and on and on.......

You can't imagine (well if you've been through this you can I guess) the pain and the stupid questions that come up. Like asking why does anything. It doesn't. It only makes it worse. That's all I did for hours Monday night. Was continually questioning why this all happened.

I got out his ultrasound pictures and his footprints and cried. I also got out his blessing card. When they did the D & E we had a minister do a blessing over his remains. I'm not religious, but I think it was comforting to J. Oddly enough it was also comforting to me.

One of the things I dwelt on quite a bit yesterday was the lack of support. I basically got very very angry at one point and was yelling to J about how shitty my family and friends are. I realize it's really easy to trade one emotion (sadness) for another (anger). And that's definitely what I did. I was pissed that I hadn't heard from my mom or my sister or my best friend. Eventually my little sister did text me. It made me feel marginally better. I realize that these people have their own lives, but how hard would it have been to let me know they were thinking of me? I think the bottom line is that they weren't thinking of me. Do you think my mom even remembered? No probably not. And if she did she probably had no idea what to say. My BFF certainly probably didn't remember. She was barely there for me when I lost him. Why would she be there when I continued to grieve for him? It's amazing to me how much this hurt. J's mom and sister both made it a point to reach out to us. His sister sent a text and his mom sent an email.

So that's where I am. Still grieving for my lost baby boy 4 1/2 months later. I had him with me as long as I haven't now. He was 4 1/2 months when we lost him and now it's 4 1/2 months later. It's been the longest, worst year of my life. Which sucks, considering it's also been the first year of married life for J and I. It's been really tough on us. We are doing okay, but it's a strain to have so many crappy things happen.

Some of this has reminded me how alone we all are in the Universe. My struggles are my own. Even with a husband and a family and friends that I love, the struggles are still my own. I can't rely on others to help handle my pain. It's mine alone and mine to deal with. I am a very introverted and closed off person in the first place. On the very rare occasions when I really could use someone reaching in and helping me, I do sometimes get disappointed. So it just reminds me seriously of how alone we are. I know that might seem sad and depressing to some people, but to me it's a point of strength. I grew up knowing you couldn't rely on other people and that the people you trust the most can betray you in the most horrible ways. I'm seeing now that as an adult the little bit of trust and openness that I've worked on for myself is just an illusion. Sad? Not really. Just a reminder of who I am and where I came from.

My childhood was sometimes crappy--since I grew up with an alcoholic father and a co-dependent mother, but losing Bear was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. My life has been pretty easy going up until this point. Even with a few traumatic events behind me I still never experienced anything quite like this. I can't believe that people deal with pain like this on a regular basis. I'm not sure how well I can handle this if it happens again.