"Questions of science, science and progress
Don't speak as loud as my heart.
Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are
Nobody said it was easy
Oh, it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start"
- Coldplay
I recently lost a pregnancy, and I guess there are a lot of ways to feel about that. I'm sure all the ways are correct/normal/ok.
Sometimes I feel guilty for my recent victim mentality, but it feels so good to wallow.
I used to be a cool person, with cool ideas, and a cool downtown life, and cool plans for my future. I never wanted to be what I am, which is a plain old person. With a well-paying job, an awesome husband, and the most adorable toddler that ever existed (In my humble opinion). And up until about March of this year life was on a beautiful trajectory. We had purchased our first home at rock bottom prices, and immediately renovated. It wasn't a huge home but still large enough for birthday parties and more kids, if we so decided. I was doing better at my job than any previous year and we had saved up enough to renovated our sunroom (finally a room for momma). We had made charts for when we would start trying for a second child. We were finally saving for that trip to Paris. I thought our ducks were in a row and life was on track simply because I was such a good planner and so great at running life...
Then in April, my husband was going about his regular work day. The large corporation leaders called him and his peers into a meeting to tell them how great they were doing. They were given celebratory cake. Shortly after cake was served, they were told they had 60 days to find a new job. I work at the same company (different department) but news travels quickly and my husband had not even had a chance to tell me before the grapevine filled me in. I was devastated. It was not just that our well laid plans were being negated, but I was also worried that we would fall into a pit of financial ruin. The jobs they offered in replacement at the corporate giant were substandard, and we decided to take the leap. Get the severance and let hubby be a stay at home dad for a while. His last day was in June, and with the help of daycare savings, our sunroom money, savings and severance, we have made it work. There was no pit, at least as of yet. Life was not on track but it was at least at a stand still and not back-pedaling.
Then our son became sick. In hindsight he had always been a little odd about food, but at 18 months he was slipping further down in the height/weight percentiles. Failure to thrive it was called. Then he started vomiting. At first just once or twice a month, vomiting for no reason. Then it became once a week. Eventually every day. He was not only failing to thrive but losing weight at a rapid pace. The pediatricians at first would tell us to keep an eye on it, but it's probably fine (because docs love to tell 1st time parents not to overreact). But I knocked down doors on my own and eventually he had a lot of testing done. He was found allergic to diary and eggs, and had been consuming both for so long that they believed it had damaged his GI track. It was not just the immediate scare of getting him better, but the lifestyle changes of removing those two major foods from our home. BUT, then slowly and surely, our little man was bouncing back with the help of acid reducers and his new diet. In July we got a call back on some major testing we had done and they found he did not have EoE as suspected, but they had no answers. I am a resolution person, and the "not knowing" gets to me more often than I would like... but he IS better, and gets healthier every day. So in July we said "screw it", our life is far messier than it once was, but we are still strong and stable and now healthy, lets try for that baby.
We only tried for two cycles before we got our big fat positive pregnancy test. Accept, something was off. I didn't know much about charting nad my body but it seemed odd that I ovulated 4 days earlier that cycle. And Darling Husband had decided to ruin my night out with friends by get absolutely pass-out drunk at a game night. I was so insanely angry at him because the hangover lasted for days and when we finally got around to Humping it Out, we had missed a good portion of my fertile window. I guess it didn't matter, because at 9DPO I got a very faint positive pregnancy test. And then another the next day and then another. All faint... but there. We told only our parents and my BFF (who just so happened to be pregnant as well). I was so excited to be pregnant with her for our second children just like our first. Somehow I think we knew something was wrong when the lines never got darker. I was able to turn a digital, but I started bleeding only 8 days later. It was the most god awful physical pain I have ever felt and very much akin to true child birth. The way the cramps were just low and gripping and the fact that I had contractions. My OB's nurse line was no help. They told me it would be like a regular period but maybe a tad more painful. F U, B. It was excruciating to the point where DH was going to take me to urgent care. I only took 2 days off work even though I was still walking like I had been kicked repeatedly in the stomach.
Emotionally it was just as bad. After a week, you wouldn't think you would be so upset. I was well read, at least more than most. And I knew this could happen. But women, who knew. In my mind I was already holding a baby on my chest while enjoying the May breezes through my window. Loving that we now had a Spring to round out our family of Summer-Huxley, Autumn-Me, Winter-Dylan. I was already thinking of names. Already pinning nursery ideas. Already calculating that we could announce to the family at Thanksgiving when we were past the safety mark of the first U/S, and by Christmas we would announce boy or girl. Already thinking of reveal ideas.
2013 has not been kind to us. Sometimes I wonder what we did to anger fate and receive so many blows. In the end, we are fighting, and we are in no way down for the count. But this year has taken a toll. And for some reason I don't think it will be over until I get a positive again, and hope that it sticks.
