Should be 

I should have a one year old. 

You were due October 3, 2015…

Just because I have a rainbow doesn’t erase the pain, the loss of innocence, the memory… 

One Year Anniversary

A year ago today, we terminated a pregnancy. We made the heartbreaking decision to let our daughter go after a grim diagnosis. This was by far the worst day of my life. I remember the day very vividly. I remember entering the operating room and just breaking down. One of the nurses took me in her arms and reassured me that a sick child wouldn’t have the life she deserved and this act was out of love and to spare her a lifetime of pain and suffering. She assured me that I was making the right decision for me and my family and understood my emotional turmoil.

The weeks following this procedure, I cried continually. I cried myself to sleep, I cried when I woke up, I cried throughout the day. I ached for my baby to be back inside of me. I ached for her to be healthy. I hated the card that I was dealt. I resented anyone with a healthy pregnancy. I hated anyone who welcomed healthy children into their lives because it seemed easy for them.

I look back on this past year and I recognize that a lot has changed. I am not religious and I am minimally spiritual, but for some reason, I feel like I have to thank my first daughter for sending me her sister, who is happily kicking away at the moment. In honor of our first daughter, we are naming our second daughter with the name we had chosen for her. I toyed with whether or not I wanted to name her with the same name, or if I wanted to choose a different name before I got pregnant and when we found out it was another girl. Ultimately, we decided to keep the name. The name is not only one we love, but it also honors her memory and gives more meaning to it, at least it does to us.

Jinxing myself

Yesterday I wrote a post about maternity leave and how the system I am in doesn’t support new mothers. I realized after writing that that I am assuming I am bringing this baby home. I know I am planning for this baby; nursery is painted and I am working on painting her furniture, but what if there is no baby. What if all this planning is for nothing? Why am I assuming that this is going to be my take home? I know this is morbid to think about and maybe rather unhealthy, but its hard to stop my mind from wandering there… I have had two previous loss, although much earlier than this current pregnancy (5 weeks and 15 weeks), and its hard to wrap my head around an actually healthy baby.  According to textbooks- I am in a ‘safer zone’ at almost 25 weeks. Statistically, I should be bringing my daughter home in April. However, through people I know personally and those I have met through blogging, I know there is no such thing as ‘ safe zone’. Anything can happen at any given time.

I suppose I am just having an anxiety inducing day. I am worried than anything I do to plan for her arrival will come back and slap me in the face.  I know the alternative is doing nothing, which means we will be scrambling when and if she comes. And, truth be told, I am want to nest. I deserve to nest. I think its so unfair that my losses have raped me of the innocence I so desperately yearn for.

Comparing pregnancies

Besides the fact that this pregnancy is so far healthy and this is the farthest I have come in a pregnancy before, there is innate differences between the three pregnancies I have had. The first, which sadly only lasted 5 weeks (a week of me knowing), consisted of spotting and cramping…I think I knew we were going to loose it. My head was screaming miscarriage during the entire week. The second pregnancy, although lasted longer, felt off. From the very beginning I was super nervous and felt something wasn’t right. I thought this was a result of me just suffering a miscarriage, but maybe it was intuition? As we know, that pregnancy resulted in a termination for medical reasons. I was right. Something was off. My daughter was unhealthy. I felt it. I knew it when I was spotting off and on, when I was prescribed progesterone, and right before we entered the room for the NT scan.

Despite my tumultuous pregnancy history, I felt differently with this pregnancy. I was a little more at ease. I have stopped analyzing everything I consume and I feellike this might actually be our baby. I am completely aware that until I take home this little girl, we are not in the clear. I am fully aware through my experience and through hearing about others, that pregnancy does not always equal baby, however, I am beginning to feel more hopeful…Like this could actually be our living daughter.

Toxicity 

I used to be friends with a girl I have spoken about previously. I refered to her as M. To recap- I didn’t officially end the friendship, but I actively avoided her; emails, invites, texts. The reasons being: she’s toxic, she’s competitive, and she’s untrustworthy. I had pulled away before my pregnancies, but was in still in some contact with her. Once we lost the baby, I was more active about my avoidance. Currently, we have a mutual friend; my best friend. I have known my best friend, K, since I was 8. We are more family than friends. Well K and M had babies a week apart. M frequently messages K- basically asking baby related questions and back handedly insulting K’s son while singing praises about her ‘perfect’ baby. Did I mention that M is a competitive bitch? Anyways, the purpose of this posts: I recently heard that M never wants to be pregnant again, instead she wants to adopt. The reason being: her pregnancy and delivery was so easy, she’s fearful that it won’t be the same scenario the second time around. Livid doesn’t begin to describe how this makes me feel. Although pregnancy comes easy to me- keeping babies don’t. I know many woman in the bloggers world who would give their right arm to carry their own children and this bitch says shit like that? This is harsh: but I don’t think she deserves a fuckkng baby. 

So yesterday I visited K on my day off. K took a snapchat of the baby and I was in the background. M saw it and it was a matter of time before K received this text: ‘I see Mindy is visiting, is she doing well? I’m glad to see she is out of hiding. Are they still intensely trying to get pregnant?’ My first response: Go FUCK yourself M. A) I have never discussed me trying to get pregnant with her. She knew about our losses and but nothing beyond that. B) yea, bitch, I’m doing well. I am also 4 months pregnant. C). Don’t fucking ask my best friend about my sex life. D). I was never in ‘hiding’ I was just avoiding you!. Of course I only voices this to K, who told me not to let her get to me. I know M has barley any friends left and she is desperately trying to bond with K over talking negatively about other people (in this instance-me.), but why don’t we stop caring about my current reproductive state. It’s not fucking competition. Go take care of you kid and shut the fuck up. 

Today is intense…

Today is an emotionally charged day. At this exact point in my last pregnancy, 15 weeks, we were terminating our daughter due to medical reasons. I am currently 15 weeks and carrying a so far healthy child, yet all I can do is replay that terrible week and the subsequent weeks I had to endure in April. I wish it ended there….Exactly one year ago today, I found out I was pregnant with my first. That pregnancy last exactly a week before I had a natural miscarriage. I have quite a bit of mixed emotions.  Technically, if my first pregnancy was healthy, I would of had a baby in July. I would of never had to terminate for medical reasons.  I never would of have to endure the worst emotional roller coaster of my life.  If my second pregnancy was healthy, the same would apply…and I would of had a daughter in October. She would of been roughly a month old.  Instead…I am still at the beginning of my pregnancy and everything beyond today is a mystery….

Capture your Grief: Day 29- What Heals You

  
Courtesy of huffingtonpost.com 

I’m not healed. I’ll never be healed. However, there are some things that make me or have made me feel better over the last 7 months. Some of those things include allowing myself to feel what I feel without apologizing. Some days I need my bed and Netflix and in the past I would of felt guilty for indulging in such behavior when I could of been more productive, but now I allow myself to go ahead and indulge because I usually feel better if I just shut out of the world for a couple of hours. Spending time with family and friends has also helped. They have allowed me to talk about the loss and talking about it and acknowledging makes me feel better. I also find long walks help me. It gives me breathing room and a safe place to just think without interruption. Lastly- I’ve done acupunture. I underwent a ‘grounding’ treatment that helped me feel less crazy. Like I have some control over my emotions. Afterwards, I felt a little more like myself. A little more in control. It helped. 

Capture your Grief: Day 23- Love Letter

  
Dear Husband,

Everyday, you impress me with your ambition, accomplishments and your actions. I have never met someone who is so genuine in their actions.  You lack the judgmental quality that I struggle with. You wholeheartedly accept people for who they are in you care about the in spite of their faults. I know you are not someone who likes to discuss their feelings and emotions, but that is okay (even though at times, I might complain otherwise) because you prove your care, commitment and love through everything you do- big and small. Thank you for always thinking of me and, at times, putting me before yourself.

The experience of our loss was very differently for the both of us. I am pretty certain that although you were sad and wished the situation was different, you are more or less ‘over it.’  It is okay. I do not fault you for it.  You didn’t know her like I knew her, and I wouldn’t expect you to feel the way I am feeling. Despite not being able to empathize, you have been incredible.  You have allowed me to feel what I needed to feel and without making me feel like how I am feeling is wrong or unacceptable.  You accepted my grief.  You have allowed me to talk about her and I thank you for that. I also want to thank you for being such an incredible support during the diagnosis, through the termination, and the tumultuous weeks that followed.  You stood up for me when I couldn’t, you held me when all I could do was cry, and you force fed me when I couldn’t eat. Most of all, you allowed me to feel. Although it was the hardest thing we have gone through thus far as a couple, it allowed me to see a side of you that is profoundly compassionate.  I loved you before this, but now I love you more.

I apologize if I struggle with expressing this gratitude daily, but I want you to know how much I love and respect you. You are invaluable and I am so proud to call you my husband, my friend, and my partner. I love you.

All my love,

Your wife

Capture your Grief: Day 20- Forgiveness + Humanity

  
This might be true for everyone, but there gets to a time in a relationship with someone where I have no more to give.  in essence, I have forgiven them so many times, that I just don’t have the energy to forgive anymore. And the relationship dissolves. I have gotten to this point with a few friendships for several different reasons.  I know I constantly look back on them and ask myself- ‘did I give up too soon?’  I tend to beat myself up about it and question myself; ‘was I in the wrong? Did I do the right thing? Was I too harsh?’ When I reflect on those questions, I ultimately come to the same terms I came to when I decided to dissolve the friendship; it wasn’t healthy and I was not happy. By dissolving the friendship, I was protecting myself from more frustration and hurt.  I accepted those friends for who they are, but with that acceptance I realized what was best for me.  I think, ultimately, I need to forgive myself for ‘giving up.’ In all honesty, this is a huge struggle. Its more so a struggle now, as I get older, and building friendships are more difficult than it was 10 years ago.

Every since my loss, I have found myself reflecting on this quite frequently.  It could be because the loss has made me feel very lonely and bitter and as a result, making new friends is the last thing I intend to do, therefore I am reflecting on past friendships- potentially holding them on undeserving pedestals. Or maybe I am too harsh? Clearly, forgiving and accepting myself for these decisions is still a challenge and will probably always be a struggle.