You know what I get tired of? Women who have had one miscarriage and a healthy baby or two thinking that they know what it is like to be me. Or people who have 4 kids and have had 8 pregnancies or something droning on about how horrible it is to have recurrent pregnancy loss. Or friends saying things like, "Well, because of my 'history' I have to go to the Ob/Gyn early in my pregnancies" when "history" means they had one miscarriage, and now two healthy pregnancies. Or people who name the babies they lost and remember them on what was supposed to be their due dates. I've had so many miscarriages I can't remember all the due dates, and I don't have enough unisex names to name them all, nor do I really want to. And if I already had 4 kids there is no way in hell I would be putting us through all the pain that recurrent pregnancy loss brings to a couple.
There are a lot of blogs out there written by people like me, and I appreciate that. It's good to know that you aren't alone. Most of them, if they are under 35 or 40, eventually have kids, which is an encouraging thing for me, but still doesn't guarantee anything.
I wish I didn't care. I wish that I didn't want kids. Then this would not be an issue. It gets harder with every miscarriage. We were so hopeful with the last one. So hopeful. It feels like the universe is playing a mean trick.
This last one almost pushed Charlie over the edge. After everything that happened in Russia, he was ready to be done, no more trying, just accept the fact that we were not meant to have kids. I told him I wasn't ready to throw in the towel. I wanted to try for one more. And he said that if that one didn't work out I'd want to try again. I told him I didn't know if that was true or not, but I did know that I was not quite ready to give up just yet.
Anyways, it's a hard thing to be 30 and to have friends all around you having kids and knowing that you may not ever have kids. I pray about it, but it may not be meant to be. And all the praying in the world is not going to make something happen that is just not meant to be. I think Charlie and I would be good parents. If we have another miscarriage we might look into adoption, but that has its own series of heartache that can go along with it.
I'm just tired of grieving. I'm tired of being sad so often. And I don't really want to get pregnant again and then have to sit around for 12 weeks going to the doctor every week and wondering if this is going to be the week they tell me I have to have another D&C.
I'm just over it. I'll give it one more go. I won't make any decisions about after that, but I'm getting close to my breaking point.
4 comments:
I sense your grief and your anger and your weariness. My heart aches for you.
One thing I have realized is that everyone's pain is unique. Sometimes pain can be similar, and it helps to share, but no one will experience exactly what we experience and it is unhelpful when people make comparisons to your life with theirs. It is a natural thing to do, because the hardest thing of all is to stand with someone in their pain and feel their vulnerability and not be able to fix it. Especially this is hard when you love someone so much that you would be willing to trade places with them and take their grief on.
From your comment I'm worried you might think was referring to you. I definitely was not. I don't feel like every single anything except be happy and sad for us and pray for us. Which is all we really want/need. Is just frustrating.
Yes, I know. And no, I didn't think you meant me although sometimes I do find it hard just to stand with you in your grief because I want you not to be in pain, but I know I can't fix it. Love, MOM
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