It’s honestly been about 3 months since I posted ANYTHING. Sure I have lots of ideas and pictures to put up but lets get real here. My life got in the way. Shall I get to the nitty gritty? I have nothing to hide, as well as writing/blogging is my therapy so lets get it going…
Public Service notice…
You may be reading this as one of our dear friends and you had no idea…I can explain why. Adam and I were planning on telling everyone over Easter, but when you read this, you will see that Easter was not the right time. We wanted to tell all of our loved ones in person but due to what you are about to read, it would have made this time in our lives that much more difficult knowing we told you all happy and exciting news only to take that away from you. So if you are one to feel upset by hearing our news this way, then we are sorry from the bottom of our hearts, but this is our story, our way of coping, and our way of sharing with the world. We are not embarrassed or ashamed at ourselves for what happened and how we are choosing to deal with it…some choose to grieve silently, some choose to drink it away, or some choose to forget it happened and replace the sadness with another child. We choose to write our story, drink in celebration that we had the chance to be parents for a short while, and to be humble in our choice to wait a while before trying again. –Side note… tiptoe with caution when you think you are just “shootin’ the shit” with a couple who has been together for some time that you ask “so, when you poppin out some kids?” because… well…maybe they have attempted to “pop out some kids” & something along the lines of our story happened. –End side note–So please, be respectful, be understanding, and be happy with our decision to share with you all in this way. Some of you may also feel that it is too soon on my part to be writing about something so emotionally heart breaking and such a life changing event, but for those who know me, I tackle things head on… it would have made no difference to me if I waited 4 days to write this, or 4 years…it doesn’t change how I feel or how I would cope. This is a time in our lives that should be documented when the feelings are real and raw… maybe I’ll follow up in 4 years and see if my thoughts have changed but right now…on this day…this feels right to me.
For as long as I can remember I have had a a debilitating fear that I cannot get pregnant. Why? Because maybe I’m too skinny, my body just can’t do it, or I am not a good enough person to be blessed with a child. So what did my husband and I decide to do about this fear? We went off birth control and said “whatever happens, happens”. Well surprise folks… after a month of doing “whatever happens, happens” we became pregnant. According to the old “due date” calculator March 21 when I found out, I was 4 weeks along. HALLELUJAH. We were SO happy…I sat on the bed with that damn pee stick looking at my husband saying “oh my lord have mercy we did it!” So we kept it hush hush for about a week or so and we slowly began telling people, such as my sister, my family, his family, & a few of our really close friends here in Owatonna, since it’s hard to keep a secret from people who you normally hang out with and have a few drinks with.
Now, me being a natural worrier, I had to get an appointment to see exactly how far along I was. At the time I went to the doctor he said I was 5 weeks 4 days along. NO. Is what I said. No I’m 6 weeks, I know my body, my cycle, my ovulation, (yuck) etc. But nope, according to the ultrasound I was indeed only 5 weeks and a few days. Red Flag. Something was wrong. But we pressed on. We started to get excited, I got books, we picked out names (we have two set in stone so it really wasn’t that difficult) and we dreamt about who it would look like. A week after my first ultra sound I was scheduled for a second one. This time my husband coming with. Up went the legs and in went the camera deal, what did we see, a yolk sac and the start of our baby (fetal pole)… however, he said I was only measuring in at 5 weeks 6 days. NO. Again, is what I said…that can’t be…by this time I KNEW I was 7 weeks along, we should see a heart beat, we should see more than a damn sac. But again, I love our doctor and he reassured us that I probably just have our dates wrong and that it was too early to do a D & C ….ummm pump the breaks… WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SUGGEST DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT IF YOU SAID EVERYTHING IS FINE? He said that we should wait and see, and that in fact the yolk sac did double in size so that was a plus. That day we also had a nutritionist appointment as well as blood work etc…I mean why would they have someone do all of these things if that baby hadn’t made it right?
So after leaving the clinic Adam and I sat in silence on the ride home, sat in silence while downstairs, and silence during supper. It was silent until I ran upstairs HEAVE crying…pouring out tears saying “SOMETHING IS WRONG AND NO ONE IS DOING ANYTHING ABOUT!!” My God send of a husband laid with me and reassured me that it is ok, at our next appointment we would see a heart beat. Still, I laid there while Adam left me alone with my thoughts.
The next day I went to work, and the fact that I work with amazing toddlers, it was tough… I looked at them with awe…look we have 8 beautiful children in our room, they made it into this world, mine would too…however it dawned on me… I was married. I wasn’t going through this uncertainty alone, I had a partner, a teammate. So I went straight to my phone and texted him “Let’s go to Easter back home and act like all is normal, whatever happens with this pregnancy, we are aware that we can atleast get pregnant and I’m ok with it just being you and me for a while.” That folks, was one of the easiest things I’ve ever figured out on my own…after all, it took me 7 years of dating Adam to figure out that I even wanted to marry him…so this was monumental. When we both got home from work, Adam hugged me and said, I love you and your decision. This is the day that both Adam and I accepted the death of our baby, even though it wasn’t confirmed. So we have been through one of the stages of grieving, acceptance (which honestly is a stage of grief that some people actually never get to accomplish)…we were just waiting for confirmation and the next step to lay our baby to rest if that was indeed the case.
When you get married, you don’t get married for the sole purpose of starting a family, or getting tax breaks, or having companionship…(whiney girl saying “I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life”) You get married because this person completes you, this person is your other half and being with the them for the rest of your life is non-negotiable. When a couple gets married, they need to ask the question…”is he enough?” or “is she enough”. What if you are unable to make a family together….is your significant other enough? Just you two, for the rest of forever? My answer was yes. In fact, at first, I didn’t want to be pregnant because I didn’t want our lives to change just yet. I was selfish. I love my time with Adam, I didn’t want to give it up. But pregnant I was and life was getting real ( I was sick to my stomach, unable to eat, tired, gassy, cranky etc)…so Easter weekend came and went and Monday, yes three days ago (today is April 23) was our big day…we were to hear a heartbeat. The dr came in and did my vitals, etc and up again went the legs and in went the camera. I was looking up into the screen at my uterus and right away my whole world closed in on me…there it was…a yolk sac, and next to it, the remnants of what would have been our beautiful 8 week old baby that sadly stopped growing about a week and a half ago.
I had housed this baby in me for weeks and for the last two weeks I knew something was wrong (even though I had no concrete signs that a miscarriage had taken place)…I was becoming a mother and a mother knows best. (learn it people…because nothing is truer than that statement) and it was finally confirmed. Tears, came silently at first until I heard my husband jump out of his chair and come to my side almost protecting from something from up above, his chest was on my chest and he was holding my head in his hands saying “shhh..its ok”. He was next to me in 2 seconds…and then…the ugly cry…the heaving, heartbreaking, real, raw cry that should only happen a handful of times in ones lifetime. The cry of a mother who has lost her child is the most devastating cry I have ever heard, and I was the one crying…I didn’t even recognize it. My doctor and husband helped me sit up and the nurse and doctor left quickly giving us some time to get it together so we could go next door to his office.
When we arrived in his office I sat down and gave a smile and said “It’s okay”. His look was piercing. “NO”, he said…”It is not okay. It’s not fair.” He proceeded to tell me that God does not waste a life, he had a reason for taking my baby. God does not punish, God does not take a child back just because. Now, I have faith. I do not have religion. I cannot recite a bible verse, or follow a set of practices bound by the church. I have faith that there is a God who is there for me at all hours of the day, and he will not give me anything I cannot handle, whereas my husband, believes in science, but at the same time knows that if he wants to see his father again someday, God is the one who has kept Denny safe and sound ready to be united with his family once again. I believe that God watches over me and has a plan for me. Now with this said…what the hell kind of plan does he have for me after taking my baby from me?
Here are some of my thoughts:
Before we found out we were pregnant, we had big plans, a honeymoon, the Dells with his family, a huge 25th birthday bash for me, my tattoo we have been saving for and etc. We were just getting on our feet in the money department. We were debt free minus my student loan, his car and our house. We have no credit card, no more payments for our $1700 bed, or our $1300 couch, or our $2500 Lowes credit card. This was a milestone. Not even a year into our marriage and we were on the right track to a debt free life in a few years. But upon getting pregnant, suddenly it was “start saving” again. No trips, no honeymoon, no tattoo, and back to the checkbook to crunch numbers. It seemed as if this baby, who was indeed a blessing, was causing a ruckus in our lives that we didn’t predict would happen so soon. Let’s also remember that I am still on my dads insurance until next year so with Baby being born November 28, we would need to take out an expensive health insurance policy for one month. So, was this the universe or if you please, God–was this their way of saying “hey, you can get pregnant, stop worrying…but you aren’t ready yet”. So with a peace of mind that when we are ready, getting pregnant should not be a problem, this is a scenario that I can accept.
Denny, Adams dad who I believe watches over us at all hours of the day, needed his first grandchild more than we did. This is also a scenario I can accept.
Thought number three
I personally, as a mother, wife, woman, was not ready. I was to do everything in my life that I wanted to do before I shared a body/life with another human being who would need me. (For that short time I shared my body with Baby P I can only hope and pray that I exceeded Baby P’s expectations of what a mother is supposed to be) I gave up caffeine, stopped with lunch meat, quit any other medication I was on, allowed my husband to finish all my wine, & created an invisible forcefield around my belly. Prior to being pregnant I was on 100 mg of Zoloft, and began to go off of it once I became pregnant. I hate medication, with all my heart, I feel that I was to be completely free of any drug and happy with myself before I could be a mom. I’ve been a good person, but I have had my challenges, my ups and downs. I’ve been rejected, I’ve been in trouble, I’ve been lost, and I’ve been found. Having a miscarriage was meant to humble me. To look at what is important in my life and to do what I feel strongly about before I welcome a child into our lives.
Yesterday, before the surgery, we had laminate floors put into our dining room in anticipation of a new baby eventually eating in there. We had carpet before and food and carpet doesn’t mix. So as I began to vacuum the dining room and steam clean it, I fell to my knees…no lie folks, and again…heave cried. Cried for my baby, cried for God, cried for being on the loosing team. I cried for Adam. My husband has already lost his father, and now his first child has been taken from him as well. If you aren’t going to cut me some slack God, cut my husband some. I slowly crawled from the floor to the steps leading upstairs and began punching them. I punched them so hard my hand went numb and instantly turned red. (When Adam came home he immediately noticed my hand and asked who won the fight) Why cannot I not have a normal right of passage. Nothing can be simple for me…I have A- blood, which means READ THIS …I don’t have the energy to type it all out. Not that being RH negative is a big deal, to me it is, it’s another step in my pregnancy that is a complication. I feel that I have fought tooth and nail for everything in my life whereas for some, it comes simple for them. How do people who aren’t even married, or aren’t even in steady relationships get to have a baby…or how about the parents I see at work who say out the side of their mouths “why did I ever want children?” Or the people who have 6 children and can’t even take care of them, and live off the government…how do they get to keep having kids. Take my husband and I, it was not a fun journey getting here, it was full of tears, mistakes, and wrong turns. But we did it. We did it the “right way” (as some would call it) as well…we didn’t live together before we got married, we did marriage counseling, he asked my father before he asked me for my hand in marriage-we did it text book folks. Now, being married, I thought, a child, a reward for our hard work and all our accomplishments thus far would be in order…turns out not.
Now, as for writing this only a few hours after my D & C this morning, yes it was today… my mom came up to take me because (do not judge) my husband, an engineer, and who has already taken off too much work to come to appointments, could not afford to take off work and still meet his deadlines. I was upset, and I was hurt, but this was something that I realize now, I had to do myself.
Adam is my support system no matter where he is. Right beside me, or 20 miles away at work. 1130 was my surgery and I was back in the room around noon. I was put under/sedated and I do not remember much after being wheeled into the operating room. Adam was there when I woke up, and I said some pretty goofy things to him apparently, which for the sake of my audience (who are reading this) I will not share with you what was said. My mom took me home shortly after and I slept until 5 when Adam got home. So now here I am sitting downstairs watching HGTV. I have little pain, but I am very tired. I do not do well with sedation or with general anesthesia. I get real queasy and they put a little circle behind my left ear to minimize my nausea which helped a little (I can rock the patch for 72 hours so you bet your ass it’s staying on). But now, it’s about moving on.
I learned how strong I am…the fact that I’m able to sit here and write this all down shows that my acceptance and my belief that I need to move on, not forget, but move on. A child is not a secret, a pregnancy should not be a secret, and a miscarriage or still birth should NEVER be a secret. (which is why I have no humility in sharing this)
I learned that my husband is who I live for, he is enough.
My family would swim across an ocean for me.
I’m not the only one who has a lost a child. Once you suffer a miscarriage and you are vocal about it, more people come forward and tell their story, you are welcomed into a kind of club that only you, if you have suffered the loss of a child can enter. It’s not a popular group, or a happy group, it’s a simple, “I had one too” statement. It’s a “You will have another healthy baby when you are ready” group. It’s a group no one wants to be in but once you are in, you are safe, you are humble and you look at each child as a magical species that they fought tooth and nail to make it into this world.
I learned the things to never say to someone suffering from a miscarriage or the loss of a child.
DO NOT EVER:
“At least you have “__” (insert number) healthy children..maybe this is a sign that you have enough. (perhaps I should take one of your children away and say..it’s okay, you have enough)
You will have another one–NO I WANTED THAT BABY
It will take time but you will be fine–No, no time will ever make up for the loss that I am feeling, I will accept it, but I will never be fine
At least you were only 8 weeks–okay people..let’s just go ahead and stop saying “at least”-it is petty–It doesn’t matter if I was 3 weeks or 36, I lost a child that this world will never know
I learned that Adam and I, can get pregnant, quickly too, which is different from some other couples I know….some who are so deeply rooted in their faith, and pray everyday for a child…not a perfect child…doesn’t need 10 fingers 10 toes,just a child, and some who have been trying for years. I know some women who can get pregnant but cannot carry to term. Or how about the women who go into labor after 5-6 months and they deliver a still born. How lucky am I that I was able to get pregnant, know my baby for a few short weeks and then have the strength to let them go?
I am a fighter, I am independent, I know what I want, what I like, what I need, who I need and when I need it.
31 For no one is cast off
by the Lord forever.
32 Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
so great is his unfailing love.
33 For he does not willingly bring affliction
or grief to anyone.
Baby P, you do not have a name, nor will you receive one, we were not lucky enough to know you long enough to give you one. It’s like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She did not name her cat…she simply called him Cat…he didn’t belong to her…just like our baby…baby didn’t belong to us…it wasn’t meant to be..someone else needed them more.
Remember that part in Titanic? *One of my favorite movies* When Rose finds out there was no record of Jack and she smiles and says “I don’t suppose there would be, but now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and he saved me in all the ways that a person can be saved.” Rose wasn’t telling her story for a memorial, or sympathy…she simply didn’t want Jack to die in vain. And that’s where I end this entry…letting you all know that there is no record of Baby P in this world, but now you all know that there was a baby on the way, and no, this baby did not die in vain.
Rest In Peace to our beautiful Baby Prilipp.