I have my follow-up with my OB today. I don’t expect to learn anything, really. Maybe the pathology report can explain what happened, but mostly I’m expecting her to check that my parts are healing well and have yet another conversation about how these things just happen sometimes.
For the most part, I’ve let the gravity of normalacy compell me further and further from sorrow. It’s hard to wallow and wax philosophical on the nature of loss when one boy needs a diaper change and the other has spilled chocolate milk on the dog.
There are moments, though, when the grief breaks through and catches me by surprise. A little bit behind on my laundry, just last night I pulled a load of dark clothes out of the dryer that contained two brand-new but instantly-favourite maternity shirts that I wore Before, and I cried. Dammit, I wanted to wear those shirts more than once. I wanted to wear them a lot, to wear them until I was sick of them and desperate for anything that didn’t have an empire waist or ties around the back.
And yet, I can’t quite bring myself to stow them away somewhere. I just moved all the maternity stuff to one side, and I try not to linger too long at that end of the closet, idly rubbing the fabric and thinking of what might have been.
Other peoples’ kids are hard, too. Even with my two beautiful boys, I still find myself resenting anybody pushing a stroller, whether the passenger is a newborn or a wriggling preschooler. I could understand this response after our first miscarriage, when our dream of a family suddenly seemed impossibly distant. But I have my boys, and I’m surprised that my impatience extends beyond babies to strangers with children everywhere.
The hardest part has been reconciling the loss of one baby with the appearnace of another. I am beyond delighted to have my beautiful neice Brooke in our lives. And yet… well, you get it. Above everything else, I just wish I could have found out about our own loss the day before, or the day after – any time except the same day. I know with time this will fade away. I just wish I could make it fade faster. They say she has my dimples. I love her already.
A miscarriage is a physical loss, no doubt. I’m just now starting to get over the idea that I feel physically hollow inside. But mostly, it’s an emotional loss. It’s the loss of a dream, the loss of your vision of a future that included someone you haven’t even met yet, but someone you were expecting to profoundly alter your life. The first few raw days, I couldn’t bear the thought of a future without this baby in my life for more than a moment, but with time, I’ve slowly been adjusting to the alternate reality. The reality where nothing special happens this coming May. It’s a slow process, but at least I can consider the idea without panicked regret squeezing my chest.
From the day I found out that the baby’s heart had stopped beating, the idea of trying again skulked about in the shadows of my heart. The more time passes – and when you think of something a thousand times in a day, 10 days can seem like a long time – the more concrete this desire becomes. For me. Beloved is not so sure. He’s understandably reluctant to open himself to the risk of this kind of loss again. He’s not even really ready to talk about it, and I’m not ready to decide on anything yet either.
That’s the other thing I want to talk to my OB about today. About the maybe, the what if, the possibility.
Edited to add: the integrated prenatal screening results showed an almost 8 in 9 chance that the baby had Trisomy 18, the presence of a third set of the 18 chromosonal pair, which is, in the unsettlingly direct words of the OB, “not compatible with life.” The blood test results are only a predictive screening, of course, based on my hormone levels and may not have been 100% accurate because the baby had been dead when the second blood test was taken. Only an amniocentisis would have told us definitively, but it now seems more like an act of grace that we lost the baby when we did and not later. I will try so very hard to forget that I read in the page to which I linked that Trisomy 18 is three times more likely to occur in girls.
The occurence of Trisomy 18 is random but increases with maternal age. Its occurence once is not predictive of a second occurence. In fact, the OB said that if we were emotionally prepared to do so, we could try again as soon as after the arrival of my next period.
All this gives me some closure, inasmuch as I can now understand why the baby died. It doesn’t do much to answer the bigger questions, like why did it happen in the first place and could I possibly be brave enough or foolish enough to risk having it happen again. I don’t know yet. I don’t know.
You might have noticed that I changed the title of this post. It was originally called “Moving on” but from the time I pressed the publish button, I knew that was the wrong title.
I hope your appointment today isn’t too hard. I know there really isn’t anything I can say that will help, but I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking of you a lot these past couple of weeks.
I hope your appointment today isn’t too hard. I know there really isn’t anything I can say that will help, but I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking of you a lot these past couple of weeks.
I hope your appointment today isn’t too hard. I know there really isn’t anything I can say that will help, but I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking of you a lot these past couple of weeks.
I hope your appointment today isn’t too hard. I know there really isn’t anything I can say that will help, but I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking of you a lot these past couple of weeks.
I hope you get some answers, and possibly, some closure. In a way, I guess this appointment is the last sentence in this chapter, and maybe it’ll help you move on to the next one. Sending hugs your way…
I hope you get some answers, and possibly, some closure. In a way, I guess this appointment is the last sentence in this chapter, and maybe it’ll help you move on to the next one. Sending hugs your way…
I hope you get some answers, and possibly, some closure. In a way, I guess this appointment is the last sentence in this chapter, and maybe it’ll help you move on to the next one. Sending hugs your way…
I hope you get some answers, and possibly, some closure. In a way, I guess this appointment is the last sentence in this chapter, and maybe it’ll help you move on to the next one. Sending hugs your way…
More of what they said . . . .
Hugs, Dani.
More of what they said . . . .
Hugs, Dani.
More of what they said . . . .
Hugs, Dani.
More of what they said . . . .
Hugs, Dani.
Answers can help, answers can bring up more grief. Answers can do both at once.
I hope you get some.
The pain of expectations fades more and more, but even that can flare anew. I still find myself pausing in the month of March to thing about long-since-irrelevant due dates and wonder what might have been. It reminds me a bit of one of the grown-up Anne of Green Gables books, where she makes it clear she’s had the same kind of “what if” thoughts for years….
It must be very bittersweet to have such joy in your family at the same time as you’re having such sorrow. Its hard to understand how your heart can hold such extremes of emotion at the same time, but it does.
Answers can help, answers can bring up more grief. Answers can do both at once.
I hope you get some.
The pain of expectations fades more and more, but even that can flare anew. I still find myself pausing in the month of March to thing about long-since-irrelevant due dates and wonder what might have been. It reminds me a bit of one of the grown-up Anne of Green Gables books, where she makes it clear she’s had the same kind of “what if” thoughts for years….
It must be very bittersweet to have such joy in your family at the same time as you’re having such sorrow. Its hard to understand how your heart can hold such extremes of emotion at the same time, but it does.
Answers can help, answers can bring up more grief. Answers can do both at once.
I hope you get some.
The pain of expectations fades more and more, but even that can flare anew. I still find myself pausing in the month of March to thing about long-since-irrelevant due dates and wonder what might have been. It reminds me a bit of one of the grown-up Anne of Green Gables books, where she makes it clear she’s had the same kind of “what if” thoughts for years….
It must be very bittersweet to have such joy in your family at the same time as you’re having such sorrow. Its hard to understand how your heart can hold such extremes of emotion at the same time, but it does.
Answers can help, answers can bring up more grief. Answers can do both at once.
I hope you get some.
The pain of expectations fades more and more, but even that can flare anew. I still find myself pausing in the month of March to thing about long-since-irrelevant due dates and wonder what might have been. It reminds me a bit of one of the grown-up Anne of Green Gables books, where she makes it clear she’s had the same kind of “what if” thoughts for years….
It must be very bittersweet to have such joy in your family at the same time as you’re having such sorrow. Its hard to understand how your heart can hold such extremes of emotion at the same time, but it does.
Hugs hugs hugs and more hugs.
xo
Hugs hugs hugs and more hugs.
xo
Hugs hugs hugs and more hugs.
xo
Hugs hugs hugs and more hugs.
xo
My heart goes out to you…I can relate, and I wish you peace and healing in the days to come.
My heart goes out to you…I can relate, and I wish you peace and healing in the days to come.
My heart goes out to you…I can relate, and I wish you peace and healing in the days to come.
My heart goes out to you…I can relate, and I wish you peace and healing in the days to come.
(if only we could hug each other, and come away with each other’s tearstains on our shoulders – it’s funny to feel better and worse at the same time)
(if only we could hug each other, and come away with each other’s tearstains on our shoulders – it’s funny to feel better and worse at the same time)
(if only we could hug each other, and come away with each other’s tearstains on our shoulders – it’s funny to feel better and worse at the same time)
(if only we could hug each other, and come away with each other’s tearstains on our shoulders – it’s funny to feel better and worse at the same time)
Don’t rush to move on – this baby was a real part of your lives and should be remembered, mourned, and cherished.Maybe having some facts will help in your head, but your heart needs time.
We grieve with you.
Don’t rush to move on – this baby was a real part of your lives and should be remembered, mourned, and cherished.Maybe having some facts will help in your head, but your heart needs time.
We grieve with you.
Don’t rush to move on – this baby was a real part of your lives and should be remembered, mourned, and cherished.Maybe having some facts will help in your head, but your heart needs time.
We grieve with you.
Don’t rush to move on – this baby was a real part of your lives and should be remembered, mourned, and cherished.Maybe having some facts will help in your head, but your heart needs time.
We grieve with you.
i’m glad that you have found some closure. hugs and more hugs.
i’m glad that you have found some closure. hugs and more hugs.
i’m glad that you have found some closure. hugs and more hugs.
i’m glad that you have found some closure. hugs and more hugs.
(((Dani)))
(((Dani)))
(((Dani)))
(((Dani)))
Oh, Dani…
You have been in my thoughts almost daily since Frostie. How is it that you can care for someone so much when you have never met? When all I know of you are the words you write?
Yet, as you know – it is possible to love someone you have never met. Your baby didn’t write to you, but was a part of you. It is GOOD to grieve that loss… And it is good to let it go when the time comes.
You will heal. And until then, I send positive thoughts out to you and Beloved and your precious boys.
Oh, Dani…
You have been in my thoughts almost daily since Frostie. How is it that you can care for someone so much when you have never met? When all I know of you are the words you write?
Yet, as you know – it is possible to love someone you have never met. Your baby didn’t write to you, but was a part of you. It is GOOD to grieve that loss… And it is good to let it go when the time comes.
You will heal. And until then, I send positive thoughts out to you and Beloved and your precious boys.
Oh, Dani…
You have been in my thoughts almost daily since Frostie. How is it that you can care for someone so much when you have never met? When all I know of you are the words you write?
Yet, as you know – it is possible to love someone you have never met. Your baby didn’t write to you, but was a part of you. It is GOOD to grieve that loss… And it is good to let it go when the time comes.
You will heal. And until then, I send positive thoughts out to you and Beloved and your precious boys.
Oh, Dani…
You have been in my thoughts almost daily since Frostie. How is it that you can care for someone so much when you have never met? When all I know of you are the words you write?
Yet, as you know – it is possible to love someone you have never met. Your baby didn’t write to you, but was a part of you. It is GOOD to grieve that loss… And it is good to let it go when the time comes.
You will heal. And until then, I send positive thoughts out to you and Beloved and your precious boys.
The thing is, you are very much already the mother of the “player to be named later”. I’ve been thinking of how hard it is to have your heart wrenched in so many directions at once, and I’ll be continuing to hold you and your little family in my heart, despite us never having met.
Take care
The thing is, you are very much already the mother of the “player to be named later”. I’ve been thinking of how hard it is to have your heart wrenched in so many directions at once, and I’ll be continuing to hold you and your little family in my heart, despite us never having met.
Take care
The thing is, you are very much already the mother of the “player to be named later”. I’ve been thinking of how hard it is to have your heart wrenched in so many directions at once, and I’ll be continuing to hold you and your little family in my heart, despite us never having met.
Take care
The thing is, you are very much already the mother of the “player to be named later”. I’ve been thinking of how hard it is to have your heart wrenched in so many directions at once, and I’ll be continuing to hold you and your little family in my heart, despite us never having met.
Take care
Hugs and more hugs. I hope that whatever decision you make, you and your husband both are equally sure about it.
I hope your power’s back on by now, too.
Hugs and more hugs. I hope that whatever decision you make, you and your husband both are equally sure about it.
I hope your power’s back on by now, too.
Hugs and more hugs. I hope that whatever decision you make, you and your husband both are equally sure about it.
I hope your power’s back on by now, too.
Hugs and more hugs. I hope that whatever decision you make, you and your husband both are equally sure about it.
I hope your power’s back on by now, too.
oh dani, what a moving post, this one really tugged at my heartstrings, for many reasons
firstly, my heart and soul aches for you and you’ve been in my thoughts daily and wishing you the courage to get through this
secondly because your prose brought me back to a place that lies deep in my heart, that will never go away, it was a happy time and then something was taken away from me and it became a dark time
coincidentally, with my first pregnancy, a very close co-worker and I had the same due date. My pregnancy ended at 15 weeks, she had a healthy baby girl. We too wanted answers but we never got any, no prenatal screening tests back then. That part was frustrating. And every day, I would work closely with this person and watch her belly grow. Attended her baby shower ( and yes I was mess before and after). It was a cruel twist of fate. I’m still in close contact with this co-worker and even now, when I see her beautiful daughter who is 14 years old, I get a tug at my heart. So I get what you mean about your niece.
don’t know why I felt compelled to sharing all this with you, if anything its because I care
more hugs
oh dani, what a moving post, this one really tugged at my heartstrings, for many reasons
firstly, my heart and soul aches for you and you’ve been in my thoughts daily and wishing you the courage to get through this
secondly because your prose brought me back to a place that lies deep in my heart, that will never go away, it was a happy time and then something was taken away from me and it became a dark time
coincidentally, with my first pregnancy, a very close co-worker and I had the same due date. My pregnancy ended at 15 weeks, she had a healthy baby girl. We too wanted answers but we never got any, no prenatal screening tests back then. That part was frustrating. And every day, I would work closely with this person and watch her belly grow. Attended her baby shower ( and yes I was mess before and after). It was a cruel twist of fate. I’m still in close contact with this co-worker and even now, when I see her beautiful daughter who is 14 years old, I get a tug at my heart. So I get what you mean about your niece.
don’t know why I felt compelled to sharing all this with you, if anything its because I care
more hugs
oh dani, what a moving post, this one really tugged at my heartstrings, for many reasons
firstly, my heart and soul aches for you and you’ve been in my thoughts daily and wishing you the courage to get through this
secondly because your prose brought me back to a place that lies deep in my heart, that will never go away, it was a happy time and then something was taken away from me and it became a dark time
coincidentally, with my first pregnancy, a very close co-worker and I had the same due date. My pregnancy ended at 15 weeks, she had a healthy baby girl. We too wanted answers but we never got any, no prenatal screening tests back then. That part was frustrating. And every day, I would work closely with this person and watch her belly grow. Attended her baby shower ( and yes I was mess before and after). It was a cruel twist of fate. I’m still in close contact with this co-worker and even now, when I see her beautiful daughter who is 14 years old, I get a tug at my heart. So I get what you mean about your niece.
don’t know why I felt compelled to sharing all this with you, if anything its because I care
more hugs
oh dani, what a moving post, this one really tugged at my heartstrings, for many reasons
firstly, my heart and soul aches for you and you’ve been in my thoughts daily and wishing you the courage to get through this
secondly because your prose brought me back to a place that lies deep in my heart, that will never go away, it was a happy time and then something was taken away from me and it became a dark time
coincidentally, with my first pregnancy, a very close co-worker and I had the same due date. My pregnancy ended at 15 weeks, she had a healthy baby girl. We too wanted answers but we never got any, no prenatal screening tests back then. That part was frustrating. And every day, I would work closely with this person and watch her belly grow. Attended her baby shower ( and yes I was mess before and after). It was a cruel twist of fate. I’m still in close contact with this co-worker and even now, when I see her beautiful daughter who is 14 years old, I get a tug at my heart. So I get what you mean about your niece.
don’t know why I felt compelled to sharing all this with you, if anything its because I care
more hugs
((hugs))
I wish virtual hugs had the same power as real ones. With time you will both know what’s best for your family. It may take days, it may take weeks, but you will know when you know. I wish this hadn’t happened to you but it’s good to have answers… to have proof of what we already knew – it was nothing you did and nothing you could do.
Much love to you and your family. Odd, that, coming from a stranger… but as you can see, there is much love here for you and yours.
((hugs))
I wish virtual hugs had the same power as real ones. With time you will both know what’s best for your family. It may take days, it may take weeks, but you will know when you know. I wish this hadn’t happened to you but it’s good to have answers… to have proof of what we already knew – it was nothing you did and nothing you could do.
Much love to you and your family. Odd, that, coming from a stranger… but as you can see, there is much love here for you and yours.
((hugs))
I wish virtual hugs had the same power as real ones. With time you will both know what’s best for your family. It may take days, it may take weeks, but you will know when you know. I wish this hadn’t happened to you but it’s good to have answers… to have proof of what we already knew – it was nothing you did and nothing you could do.
Much love to you and your family. Odd, that, coming from a stranger… but as you can see, there is much love here for you and yours.
((hugs))
I wish virtual hugs had the same power as real ones. With time you will both know what’s best for your family. It may take days, it may take weeks, but you will know when you know. I wish this hadn’t happened to you but it’s good to have answers… to have proof of what we already knew – it was nothing you did and nothing you could do.
Much love to you and your family. Odd, that, coming from a stranger… but as you can see, there is much love here for you and yours.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a sentence as funny, moving, and wise as “It’s hard to wallow and wax philosophical on the nature of loss when one boy needs a diaper change and the other has spilled chocolate milk on the dog.”
TW and I are thinking of you.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a sentence as funny, moving, and wise as “It’s hard to wallow and wax philosophical on the nature of loss when one boy needs a diaper change and the other has spilled chocolate milk on the dog.”
TW and I are thinking of you.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a sentence as funny, moving, and wise as “It’s hard to wallow and wax philosophical on the nature of loss when one boy needs a diaper change and the other has spilled chocolate milk on the dog.”
TW and I are thinking of you.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a sentence as funny, moving, and wise as “It’s hard to wallow and wax philosophical on the nature of loss when one boy needs a diaper change and the other has spilled chocolate milk on the dog.”
TW and I are thinking of you.
((((Dani))))
((((Dani))))
((((Dani))))
((((Dani))))
Dani, I’m so sorry that I was away from this blog for so long only to come back to it when I can only share in your grief and not in your joy.
As a mom of a stillborn I can share with you that there is no greater loss than that of a child, in any stage of pregnancy and in any birth order.
The pain never goes away, our child would have been 14 in a few days and I write with my office door shut so no one sees me bawling.
In time, you and Beloved will know what is right for your family and you will find the courage that you need to see that decision through.
Until then, I am thinking of you and sending you my love.
Dani, I’m so sorry that I was away from this blog for so long only to come back to it when I can only share in your grief and not in your joy.
As a mom of a stillborn I can share with you that there is no greater loss than that of a child, in any stage of pregnancy and in any birth order.
The pain never goes away, our child would have been 14 in a few days and I write with my office door shut so no one sees me bawling.
In time, you and Beloved will know what is right for your family and you will find the courage that you need to see that decision through.
Until then, I am thinking of you and sending you my love.
Dani, I’m so sorry that I was away from this blog for so long only to come back to it when I can only share in your grief and not in your joy.
As a mom of a stillborn I can share with you that there is no greater loss than that of a child, in any stage of pregnancy and in any birth order.
The pain never goes away, our child would have been 14 in a few days and I write with my office door shut so no one sees me bawling.
In time, you and Beloved will know what is right for your family and you will find the courage that you need to see that decision through.
Until then, I am thinking of you and sending you my love.
Dani, I’m so sorry that I was away from this blog for so long only to come back to it when I can only share in your grief and not in your joy.
As a mom of a stillborn I can share with you that there is no greater loss than that of a child, in any stage of pregnancy and in any birth order.
The pain never goes away, our child would have been 14 in a few days and I write with my office door shut so no one sees me bawling.
In time, you and Beloved will know what is right for your family and you will find the courage that you need to see that decision through.
Until then, I am thinking of you and sending you my love.