Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Things I Wish I Was

Do you ever have a moment where you say "man, I wish I was more like that"? I do. For example - there are certain words that people use to describe me. For example, words like sassy, strong, dedicated, brutally honest, dramatic, loyal, and funny are all used to describe me. However, words like sweet, nice, caring, etc are NOT on the top ten words to describe Meg. Now, don't get me wrong - I love me. I think I'm pretty fabulous most of the time, so self esteem is not the issue. However, I think that certain qualities that I have put me in the "not nice" category. (even N says "not nice, Mommy!" from time to time, but that's usually when I'm trying to get her to stop doing something, even if it is in a nice tone. Le sigh.) There are times that I am sitting alone, like now, and ponder my life. I think I'm nice and fiercely loyal, but my brutal honesty gets me in trouble from time to time. I tell myself that keeping people accountable and not sugar coating stuff isn't necessarily a downfall, but it can get me in trouble in certain situations. I have a little bit of a hot head too, which puts me in the "not nice" category. Does it bother me that the words sweet and kind aren't used to describe me? Yes and no. I think we all strive to be or do something that isn't inherently in our nature, though. Even when I was a kid I wasn't really referred to as sweet as much I was referred to as "difficult". The sassy part of me says screw it, but there's a little part that just wants to be known as sweet and nice. So, here's to curbing some of the dramatic and honest tendencies, and working on being a little more sweet. But not too sweet, because I don't want to get diabetes. (Update - iPad formatting sucks. I like lots of paragraphs, not just one! Blech.)

Monday, June 18, 2012

The "M" Word

Things have been stressful in our household, let me tell ya. I’m finally able to blog about it, which is a positive step for me. You know how I love to blog about things.

On Monday, April 30, Michael and I found out we were pregnant. We were so excited! Our estimated due date was 1/2/13, and I was really excited about the prospect of a New Year’s baby.

I was much less sick than I was the first time around, which was my first clue that something might have been amiss. Though I was concerned, I just kept a positive attitude and listened to those who said, “Oh, that means it’s a boy!” or “Every pregnancy is different”.

On Saturday and Sunday, 5/5 and 5/6, I had terrible cramping, but no bleeding. It was so bad on my left side that I was curled up in the fetal position and crying. We dropped Naomi off at a friend’s house on Sunday 5/6 and went to urgent care.

Hours and hours (and 2 different Urgent Care locations) later, we discovered that they couldn’t see the gestational sac (aka baby) due to low hormone levels. I was 5.5 weeks along, and my hormone levels were 227. I knew that was too low, but the Urgent Care doc was like “Don’t lose hope, it’s normal!” Bullshit lady, I know where my hormones should be because I’ve been around the block before.

We went and picked up Naomi, and I knew in my heart of hearts that I was losing the pregnancy. Michael had a great, positive, optimistic attitude, and I tried, but I knew from the beginning that something was slightly off, so I had prepared myself for this possibility.

I had lots of blood work done, and saw my (amazing) OB on Monday 5/7/12. He looked at me and said, “It’s most likely a miscarriage, and you need to prepare yourself”. I so appreciated his honesty; it felt good to just have someone confirm what I already knew. He said that at 5.5 weeks, my hormone levels should have been in the thousands, not 227. (I am convinced that the Urgent Care doctor just didn’t want me to lose it in her exam room).

I didn’t lose it, though. My doctor gave me a hug, told me not to blame myself, and gave me instructions on what to do when it happened. Michael and I left in silence. He continued to be optimistic, and I continued to know what was happening.

On Tuesday morning, I got more blood work done and went into work. I knew that when it all went down, I would want to take time off work and I didn’t want to stress about all of the things that needed to be done in my absence. I just kept working, despite my co-worker’s encouraging me to go home. We were down to one car (Michael got in an accident on 5/3, which we are still dealing with now), so I couldn’t just peace out of work without pulling Michael out too.

Around Noon, though, I started to miscarry and I left work dazed. We called our family on the way home, needing to keep it together so not to crash the car. However, when we got home, I was a mess.

I cried, I screamed, I threw things. I thought about how absolutely unfair it was for me to lose my child, yet so many crappy parents are allowed to keep theirs. I understand that isn’t a fair way to think, but in that moment, I didn’t care.

I took the rest of the week off of work, and hung out with some friends who came into town. I didn’t feel like myself. I felt like part of me was missing. I roamed around staring at people (I was quite the creeper).

On the outside, I had to continue. I have a 2 year old – I can’t afford to lay down and lose it for an extended period of time. I wanted to, though. I had a hard time being around Naomi – not because of her, but because when I looked at her I thought about all of the wonderful memories of her being born, and knowing that I wouldn’t know the child that I lost.

Some may say it wasn’t a child, because it was so early. To me, it was 100% a child, and I will mourn it like I would mourn a living child (albeit still a little differently). And, I should add, though I think it was a baby, even that early, I still believe in women having a choice with what they do with their bodies. People should stay out of a women’s uterus, thanks k bye.

Anyway, all of this happened the week of Mother’s Day. The day was good in regards to spending it with my family, but when I was going to bed, I cried.

I’m slowly becoming myself again. A lot of other stressors happened in the month of May, and I am so glad that it’s over. I’m able to laugh again, I don’t shy away from children as much, and I’m starting to feel like leaving that house again (though I’ve been leaving the house every day, I have an enormous amount of anxiety). Holidays are rough, and I don’t think that I’ll ever enjoy New Year’s like I have in the past.

So, that’s what’s been going on in the life of us. Many thanks to those who knew and sent positive thoughts our way, and for everyone’s continued support. We’ve decided to wait a year to try for another child. Though we may change our mind, I am still pretty emotionally fragile, despite my outward attitude. I’m still carrying around guilt (though I know it’s not my fault, I still feel like it is), still cry randomly, and have a hard time being certain places that remind me of what happened.

Much love to everyone, and my future posts will be less depressing, and a little more awesome.