I don't want to talk to anyone. I have removed myself from the social networks and have stopped answering my phone. What is there to talk about? What should we discuss today?
"How are you feeling?" HOW DO YOU THINK?
"This will get better soon." I don't want it to get better. I don't want to forget my baby.
"Maybe you should leave the house"- WHAT FOR? strawberries and bananas? I am no longer craving those.
"You are making me sad"- WHO CARES about YOU? What about my baby!
"I'm so glad you answered. What's up?" Uhm... ok. WHAT PLANET IS THIS.
"Carly, when will you be reporting back to work?" This can't really be happening to me
The only calls I will answer are from my Mom, Dad, and Brother. They are my immediate family and know that I wont get over this. They haven't ever seen me get so close and excited about anything in my entire life- and know that they probably wont ever again. I don't want to hear from anyone else. ESPECIALLY not my inlaws. I don't want to hear from any of my "so called" friends. They mean nothing to me right now. I have my OWN problems and I don't have time to help someone else with theirs. I am focusing on me right now and ME has nothing to do with anyone else. That's final.
"When are you going to get better honey?" Feels like never. That's when. I has been 24 hours since the D&C, 3 days since I saw my baby's lifeless balloon and not much else has happened since then except one shower and about 13 maxi pads. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want my baby back!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Day Four... Staying distracted
I am having such a hard time staying distracted. I am not sure how to move on.
Today the D&C was performed. I suppose, if I can be honest, that it wasn't as bad as I thought. Truth be told the nurses were sensitive to me and how I felt- and they all, one by one, said they were sorry. The hardest part was walking down the hall to the room where they would be performing the removal of the ramins of my raspberry. It felt like such a long walk. I could not look up from the floor. I just kept my head down, in that stupid gown they dress you in, in those stupid grip socks...and wondered how and why I was there.
I had an orange bracelet on my writst with my name on it. I looked at it over and over again. I thought I'd be excited to be in the hospital, with my wrist band...and my husband. But instead, it was cut 7 months short by this freak experience.
When I arrived at the room, they gently sat me down on this long bed that looked like a cross. the arms were outstretched and I could see straps on it. I was told to place my bottom at the end of the table and that soon I would relax. I couldn't beleive how many people (including men) were in the room. I couldn't believe I would end up completely asleep and unconscious with all of these people watching Dr. Green suction out my baby. With my legs open, on an exam table, asleep, they would be removing the remains of Raspberry. My little raspberry. Before I knew it, I was asleep.
I woke up on a bed beside a woman I didn't know who was moaning. There were nurses everywhere bustling around and chatting about what they'd done this passed weekend. I remember what I did. I sobbed. I sobbed about my baby. When I felt between my legs there was an enourmous pad shoved between them. No panties. No bra. No one had even bothered to tie my ugly gown. Just another D&C. A number. Another one today.... unfortunately. It seems to be unnatural, yet all I keep hearing is that it happens all the time.
I was transferred to a separate room where I was administered Rhogam (or whatever they call it) because my blood is 0-. I didn't even know that. A lot I didn't know about myself.
I didn't know I could be embarrassed about being sad and weak
I didn't know I would try to remain distracted in order to not cry
I didn't know I would feel so alone in this journey- that although I realize my husband feels sorrow I cannot admit that his pain is as deep or as real as mine; How could it be? He hadn't felt Raspberry inside of him. His breasts hadn't engorged to reach a new size - he hadn't felt the bubbles I felt as soon as week one.
But he cried. He did. He cried and he is working so hard to make me laugh. To make me smile. To feed me and bathe me and make sure that I look pretty....because he knows that I like that stuff. Makeup and ironed clothes. But. I have been wearing the same purple button down and ripped jeans for days now. Probably since Saturday. Changed nothing more than my bloody underwear and now oversized bra. And EVERYTIME I look in that mirror I remember my baby. I remember and I miss my bahy...and I cry.
Today was hard. Day four was long. I couldn't sleep and don't know when I will be able to again. I want to see my baby's face and know that he is okay.
I am sorry Raspberry. Mommy didn't mean to leave you all alone. I wanted to meet you and hug you tight and love you forever. I know you are a little angel now, but mommy misses you and needed you too.
Going to try and get myself together now. Not going into work again tomorrow. Going to try to take it slow.... though I am sure it will catch up with me. All I can think about is my baby. Can't stay distracted long enough.
Over and out- hope you are all well.
Carly
Today the D&C was performed. I suppose, if I can be honest, that it wasn't as bad as I thought. Truth be told the nurses were sensitive to me and how I felt- and they all, one by one, said they were sorry. The hardest part was walking down the hall to the room where they would be performing the removal of the ramins of my raspberry. It felt like such a long walk. I could not look up from the floor. I just kept my head down, in that stupid gown they dress you in, in those stupid grip socks...and wondered how and why I was there.
I had an orange bracelet on my writst with my name on it. I looked at it over and over again. I thought I'd be excited to be in the hospital, with my wrist band...and my husband. But instead, it was cut 7 months short by this freak experience.
When I arrived at the room, they gently sat me down on this long bed that looked like a cross. the arms were outstretched and I could see straps on it. I was told to place my bottom at the end of the table and that soon I would relax. I couldn't beleive how many people (including men) were in the room. I couldn't believe I would end up completely asleep and unconscious with all of these people watching Dr. Green suction out my baby. With my legs open, on an exam table, asleep, they would be removing the remains of Raspberry. My little raspberry. Before I knew it, I was asleep.
I woke up on a bed beside a woman I didn't know who was moaning. There were nurses everywhere bustling around and chatting about what they'd done this passed weekend. I remember what I did. I sobbed. I sobbed about my baby. When I felt between my legs there was an enourmous pad shoved between them. No panties. No bra. No one had even bothered to tie my ugly gown. Just another D&C. A number. Another one today.... unfortunately. It seems to be unnatural, yet all I keep hearing is that it happens all the time.
I was transferred to a separate room where I was administered Rhogam (or whatever they call it) because my blood is 0-. I didn't even know that. A lot I didn't know about myself.
I didn't know I could be embarrassed about being sad and weak
I didn't know I would try to remain distracted in order to not cry
I didn't know I would feel so alone in this journey- that although I realize my husband feels sorrow I cannot admit that his pain is as deep or as real as mine; How could it be? He hadn't felt Raspberry inside of him. His breasts hadn't engorged to reach a new size - he hadn't felt the bubbles I felt as soon as week one.
But he cried. He did. He cried and he is working so hard to make me laugh. To make me smile. To feed me and bathe me and make sure that I look pretty....because he knows that I like that stuff. Makeup and ironed clothes. But. I have been wearing the same purple button down and ripped jeans for days now. Probably since Saturday. Changed nothing more than my bloody underwear and now oversized bra. And EVERYTIME I look in that mirror I remember my baby. I remember and I miss my bahy...and I cry.
Today was hard. Day four was long. I couldn't sleep and don't know when I will be able to again. I want to see my baby's face and know that he is okay.
I am sorry Raspberry. Mommy didn't mean to leave you all alone. I wanted to meet you and hug you tight and love you forever. I know you are a little angel now, but mommy misses you and needed you too.
Going to try and get myself together now. Not going into work again tomorrow. Going to try to take it slow.... though I am sure it will catch up with me. All I can think about is my baby. Can't stay distracted long enough.
Over and out- hope you are all well.
Carly
Monday, October 18, 2010
Day Three...
I am up. As soon as the first glimmer of light cracks through the window- I awaken to remember everything that's happened in the last few days. This morning I am well aware of what day it is. It is Monday. I am to report to work-but wont. Haven't called my manager yet. I am new here and have heard horror stories about how she handles "sick time." I don't know if I want to give her the details of my illness. I don't want to let her in to this. This is MY pain. This was MY baby. This is MY loss.
I wonder how the doctor can sleep. Why hasn't anyone called me yet to schedule this procedure? I don't think I can wait another day. I still don't understand how any of this happened. I went to the doctor for a MIGRAINE! How is my baby dead? I did everything I was supposed to. I think. Well yes. Now I just THINK I did. Now I remember everything I did wrong! Should I have NOT gone to step class on Tuesday at the gym? Should I have not become overwhelmed at work when Ellen wouldn't stop calling me. Should I have just quit my job when I found out I was blessed.
I'm sitting on the bed. At the edge. Normally I would be downstairs making waffles and having orange juice. I was hooked on those. Today I am not even hungry. How can I eat? Dr. Green still hasn't called me to set up my D&C.... can't believe it. Do you know what that stands for? Dilation and Curettage. Sounds horrible. I know I can't blame anyone for this. I know I shouldn't blame myself. But. It has to be attributed to something...because my baby was perfect and now he's dead.
Normally, today I would have woken up.... touched my belly. Smiled. Washed myself.... brushed my teeth...had a waffle. Smiled some more. Today I just sit at the edge of my bed in utter disbelief.
I wonder how the doctor can sleep. Why hasn't anyone called me yet to schedule this procedure? I don't think I can wait another day. I still don't understand how any of this happened. I went to the doctor for a MIGRAINE! How is my baby dead? I did everything I was supposed to. I think. Well yes. Now I just THINK I did. Now I remember everything I did wrong! Should I have NOT gone to step class on Tuesday at the gym? Should I have not become overwhelmed at work when Ellen wouldn't stop calling me. Should I have just quit my job when I found out I was blessed.
I'm sitting on the bed. At the edge. Normally I would be downstairs making waffles and having orange juice. I was hooked on those. Today I am not even hungry. How can I eat? Dr. Green still hasn't called me to set up my D&C.... can't believe it. Do you know what that stands for? Dilation and Curettage. Sounds horrible. I know I can't blame anyone for this. I know I shouldn't blame myself. But. It has to be attributed to something...because my baby was perfect and now he's dead.
Normally, today I would have woken up.... touched my belly. Smiled. Washed myself.... brushed my teeth...had a waffle. Smiled some more. Today I just sit at the edge of my bed in utter disbelief.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Day Two.... a Blurr
Oh my. What a long day already.
Day One after the horrible news has quickly and seamlessly blended with day two.
Twelve weeks ago, my husband and I received the most amazing news. We had long anticipated growing our family. A new addition. We met Raspberry (yeah, that's what we were calling our little bean) in August. Late in the month we saw a small blinking image during a sonogram. Wow.
How quickly the blinking image became the center of our universe is hard to say. I don't know - it was simultaneous. We suddenly stopped thinking in "me's" and "I's" and started thinking in "We's...and Our's." Life was different. Looking in the mirror was so different too. We embraced nights on the couch and long naps on the grass. We even embraced decaf!
About 5 days ago I had a migraine onset. It was such a long day at work. All I could think about was keeping my raspberry safe. Safe. No stress. No crying. No stress. The migraine headache persisted for over 72 hours leading me to call the OB and schedule a conversation. I never ever imagined what would follow. She scheduled an appointment for a sonogram, an RH blood test (I still don't know what that is), and asked me to lie back while she examined me. The next morning my husband was flying out to Texas on business...and I would be going in for the sonogram alone. I still cannot believe what happened next.
With no clues, no idea...I laid back on the table and let Martha, the sonogram technician insert the probe. I had endured this part before. I was confident. "I can't wait to see my baby"...I thought. When she asked how far along I was, I sensed panic in her voice. I looked at the screen and to my shock and ...I can't find words.... I saw a deflated balloon at the bottom of the screen. Just there. My raspberry. No movement. No blinking light... nothing from my baby.
I felt like my head was detaching itself from my body. I can only imagine that this feeling, this intense heat throughout ones body, is what is felt when you step on a land mine. When someone tells you of a bad diagnosis. When your mother dies. That's how it felt.
That's how it still feels today. But today....I feel embarrassed and ashamed too. I don't want to cry everytime I speak to someone. I don't want to be "the freak" who lost the baby. The "Freak" who can't stop crying. The "freak" who took things too seriously.
I feel alone. Im dizzy and confused. I am hurt and lonely. I miss my raspberry. A lot.
Day two stinks.
Day One after the horrible news has quickly and seamlessly blended with day two.
Twelve weeks ago, my husband and I received the most amazing news. We had long anticipated growing our family. A new addition. We met Raspberry (yeah, that's what we were calling our little bean) in August. Late in the month we saw a small blinking image during a sonogram. Wow.
How quickly the blinking image became the center of our universe is hard to say. I don't know - it was simultaneous. We suddenly stopped thinking in "me's" and "I's" and started thinking in "We's...and Our's." Life was different. Looking in the mirror was so different too. We embraced nights on the couch and long naps on the grass. We even embraced decaf!
About 5 days ago I had a migraine onset. It was such a long day at work. All I could think about was keeping my raspberry safe. Safe. No stress. No crying. No stress. The migraine headache persisted for over 72 hours leading me to call the OB and schedule a conversation. I never ever imagined what would follow. She scheduled an appointment for a sonogram, an RH blood test (I still don't know what that is), and asked me to lie back while she examined me. The next morning my husband was flying out to Texas on business...and I would be going in for the sonogram alone. I still cannot believe what happened next.
With no clues, no idea...I laid back on the table and let Martha, the sonogram technician insert the probe. I had endured this part before. I was confident. "I can't wait to see my baby"...I thought. When she asked how far along I was, I sensed panic in her voice. I looked at the screen and to my shock and ...I can't find words.... I saw a deflated balloon at the bottom of the screen. Just there. My raspberry. No movement. No blinking light... nothing from my baby.
I felt like my head was detaching itself from my body. I can only imagine that this feeling, this intense heat throughout ones body, is what is felt when you step on a land mine. When someone tells you of a bad diagnosis. When your mother dies. That's how it felt.
That's how it still feels today. But today....I feel embarrassed and ashamed too. I don't want to cry everytime I speak to someone. I don't want to be "the freak" who lost the baby. The "Freak" who can't stop crying. The "freak" who took things too seriously.
I feel alone. Im dizzy and confused. I am hurt and lonely. I miss my raspberry. A lot.
Day two stinks.
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