The Past
Some memories have been weighing very heavily on me lately. They came up again this weekend as DH and I again debated whether or not to take a vacation in December. I tried (not very successfully) to explain that I was afraid that one of the reasons that I wanted to get away was to escape the regularly scheduled holidays. We would still of course be doing the same things with family, but that I was afraid that I was trying to run away from the fear that I have about facing those gatherings. DH looked confused (once again) as I cried while trying to explain that it wouldn't be the same. He completely misunderstood. His thoughts immediately went to what could have been, the empty holidays without our child. I tried to explain that my thoughts can't go there, that thinking about what could and should have been tears me up to a point that scares me. That's when I told him that even though I love any holiday from Halloween through Christmas, that I wish that I could just skip them all this year, that the memories of what actually was last year scare me; that I am afraid that I won't be able to make it through a single one of them without being completely and utterly devasted. Again he just stood there looking confused. I demanded (not very nicely) to know if he remembered last year; if he remembered the Thanksgiving and Christmas. I know he does, but that the feelings aren't the same for him, that they will never be the same for him. Later as I tried unsuccessfully to sleep I realized that I had never journaled about these times that I had never written about some of the hardest times I had, when I was pasting on my fake happy face and pretending I was "just fine thank you." So now over 10 months later I am going to write them down for all to see, going to put them out there so that maybe I can find some peace with them. . .
October 2009 was the first month that we were officially TTC. We didn't even really try because we got the go ahead from my Dr. so late in the month. We figured we wouldn't really gear up until November. Now I should preface this with the fact that DH LOVES Halloween. He is really crazy obsessed. The fact that it fell on a Saturday last year put him in heaven; a whole day of horror films, candy, and trick or treaters. I had already gotten a BFN 2 days before, and like I said we were really trying so when I spotted a little I just assumed it was dear AF. In the early afternoon, I felt the beginning of cramps. They had been getting worse each month since I had gone off the pill. I wanted none of that, and I had gotten a BFN, so I asked DH to bring me 1 Advil. Three days later I got a BFP, guess I tested too early. In the Dr. reports that I just got last month my progesterone levels remained at 5 weeks, they never rose. I took the Advil at 5 weeks. I know in my head that this probably had nothing to do with the mc, that I only took 1 and that I didn't know. I will ALWAYS feel the guilt that I took the worst possible OTC that could at the worst possible time.
November 2009 was the best and worst month that I have ever had. We got our BFP 11/3/09 and our very 1st appointment w/ultrasound was 11/24/09. On 11/23/09 I was supposed to go and work out at the gym at lunch, but I had been modifying my work out a lot and sort of didn't really see the point. I decided to go Christmas shopping on lunch instead. On my drive back to work I got what I can only describe as a "stich in my side." It felt like when you run too far for too long or walk too fast; except I wasn't walking or running I was sitting and driving. When I got back to work that's when the spotting started. Nothing too bad, brownish mostly, but some how I just knew. The doctor's office said to just wait until my appointment the next day, that I was fine, that the spotting was brownish, but I still just knew. The 23rd was the Monday before Thanksgiving. For most of you who don't know I love to cook, and I always make the pies for Thanksgiving. I had it all planned for that night, but decided to rest onthe sofa instead, just in case I was wrong. When I woke up the next morning I knew I had been right. The spotting was worse and the clots started. I woke up poor DH sobbing and screaming that this couldn't be happening. The Dr. (who I woke up through the on call service) seemed to think that I was crazy, told me I was probably fine and that I should just keep my appointment at 1 PM. Somehow I went to work, I explained what was happening to my boss, and made it through to my appointment. The enitire time that I waited I just knew, so when they told us it wasn't so much of a shock as it was just a horrible realization. I called my mom and told her, she hadn't even know that I was pregnant. I cried uncontrollably, she didn't say much. She did say that I didn't have to come to Thanksgiving dinner if I didn't want to, but for some reason I stuboornly insisted that I would be there. The next day I went to work just like nothing had happened; the Dr. didn't think it necessary for me to take time off. I sobbed quietly in my cubicle until it was time to go home. It was DH's best friend's b-day and they had made plans to go out. He said he would stay home with me, but again I stubbornly insisted that he go; that I would be fine. I decided, some where in my reallythick head, that I still really really needed to bake those pies. I had planned on baking 3 kinds, I bake 3 kinds every year why should this one be any different? After 3 hours and 5 failed attempts I called and begged DH to buy more pie dough on the way home. He told me to stop baking, to not worry about it, but some how I just couldn't. All in all I baked the same pie 7 times, and every time I left out some ingredient. By 11 PM the kitchen was covered in pie pans, bowls, and the remains of dead pies; I was hysterically crying because I felt like such a failure. On the way to Thanksgiving dinner we picked up my MIL and DH's grandma. MIL tried to be nice, but at the time it seemed patronizing; we never told his grandma. At my mom's I pasted on my fake happy face, and quietly thanked God that I had a large bottle of Advil (Dr. said no need for a script) and that my mom had a Crockpot full of mulled wine. I barely remember dinner (and no I wasn't drunk) the whole thing was like an out of body experience. My dad suggested at dinner that we go around and each say what we were thankfull for, I shot him daggers and my mom said mayber not this year. I do remember the frequent bathroom trips and crying quietly to myself every time I had to change a pad. Some how, finally, it was over.
December 2009 was when I decided that I would just "be over it." I bought presents, I decorated my house, I baked cookies, I smiled my fake smile, I anxiously waited for AF. About 10 days before Christmas, DH and I had a really ridiculous fight about presents. It got really really bad, it's probably the worst fight we have ever had, ever. We screamed and threw things, DH piut on his coat and stormed out. In tears I went upstairs and made our bed. I could barely see straight through the anger, the fear, the sadness. Through our bedroom window I watched DH punch his knuckles raw on our garage door. I actually thought about leaving and never coming back, about driving away and never looking back. I never told that to anyone before; not even DH. He came back in and apologized, I tried to explain that I wasn't really fighting about presents, that I was just hurting; he said he understood. He still makes "funny" comments about the fight when we talk about presents; I don't think he will ever understand that's not what we were fighting about. The holidays passed and I pasted on my fake smile. It's there for everyone to see in all the photos.
Then came New Year's Eve. A seemingly innocuous holiday. DH's BFF decided however it would be the absolute perfect night to get married; to his pregnant fiancee; who was exactly 6 weeks ahead of me. Great fun. It was a shotgun type affair in the church basement. It was BYOB, and sicne it was New Year's Eve I decided to start in a little early. I drink occassionally; here and there; I have only been really drunk 1 time in my life. Before we left the house I drank 1 entire bottle of white wine. After we got there, they got married yadayada. At the reception people started in on when we would have kids (as I knew they would) I made up a drinking game with myself and drank whenever anyone mentioned kids or babies. They stated passing the 1 baby that had been brought around to everone to hold. I drank 1 1/2 more bottles of wine. DH really didn't stay at the table much; he was the Best Man and was busy with pictures etc. During the last dance I threw up alone in the bathroom.
So this is why I dread the holidays. This is what I will remember this year. I know that this isn't all I will remember and that eventually (please) there will be happier memories to crowd these out. I still don't know if we will go on vacation, although I need to decide this week to get the deal we are looking at. I hope though thatnow that I written this the memories will stop playng themselves over and over in my head. . . Thanks for reading . . .
October 2009 was the first month that we were officially TTC. We didn't even really try because we got the go ahead from my Dr. so late in the month. We figured we wouldn't really gear up until November. Now I should preface this with the fact that DH LOVES Halloween. He is really crazy obsessed. The fact that it fell on a Saturday last year put him in heaven; a whole day of horror films, candy, and trick or treaters. I had already gotten a BFN 2 days before, and like I said we were really trying so when I spotted a little I just assumed it was dear AF. In the early afternoon, I felt the beginning of cramps. They had been getting worse each month since I had gone off the pill. I wanted none of that, and I had gotten a BFN, so I asked DH to bring me 1 Advil. Three days later I got a BFP, guess I tested too early. In the Dr. reports that I just got last month my progesterone levels remained at 5 weeks, they never rose. I took the Advil at 5 weeks. I know in my head that this probably had nothing to do with the mc, that I only took 1 and that I didn't know. I will ALWAYS feel the guilt that I took the worst possible OTC that could at the worst possible time.
November 2009 was the best and worst month that I have ever had. We got our BFP 11/3/09 and our very 1st appointment w/ultrasound was 11/24/09. On 11/23/09 I was supposed to go and work out at the gym at lunch, but I had been modifying my work out a lot and sort of didn't really see the point. I decided to go Christmas shopping on lunch instead. On my drive back to work I got what I can only describe as a "stich in my side." It felt like when you run too far for too long or walk too fast; except I wasn't walking or running I was sitting and driving. When I got back to work that's when the spotting started. Nothing too bad, brownish mostly, but some how I just knew. The doctor's office said to just wait until my appointment the next day, that I was fine, that the spotting was brownish, but I still just knew. The 23rd was the Monday before Thanksgiving. For most of you who don't know I love to cook, and I always make the pies for Thanksgiving. I had it all planned for that night, but decided to rest onthe sofa instead, just in case I was wrong. When I woke up the next morning I knew I had been right. The spotting was worse and the clots started. I woke up poor DH sobbing and screaming that this couldn't be happening. The Dr. (who I woke up through the on call service) seemed to think that I was crazy, told me I was probably fine and that I should just keep my appointment at 1 PM. Somehow I went to work, I explained what was happening to my boss, and made it through to my appointment. The enitire time that I waited I just knew, so when they told us it wasn't so much of a shock as it was just a horrible realization. I called my mom and told her, she hadn't even know that I was pregnant. I cried uncontrollably, she didn't say much. She did say that I didn't have to come to Thanksgiving dinner if I didn't want to, but for some reason I stuboornly insisted that I would be there. The next day I went to work just like nothing had happened; the Dr. didn't think it necessary for me to take time off. I sobbed quietly in my cubicle until it was time to go home. It was DH's best friend's b-day and they had made plans to go out. He said he would stay home with me, but again I stubbornly insisted that he go; that I would be fine. I decided, some where in my reallythick head, that I still really really needed to bake those pies. I had planned on baking 3 kinds, I bake 3 kinds every year why should this one be any different? After 3 hours and 5 failed attempts I called and begged DH to buy more pie dough on the way home. He told me to stop baking, to not worry about it, but some how I just couldn't. All in all I baked the same pie 7 times, and every time I left out some ingredient. By 11 PM the kitchen was covered in pie pans, bowls, and the remains of dead pies; I was hysterically crying because I felt like such a failure. On the way to Thanksgiving dinner we picked up my MIL and DH's grandma. MIL tried to be nice, but at the time it seemed patronizing; we never told his grandma. At my mom's I pasted on my fake happy face, and quietly thanked God that I had a large bottle of Advil (Dr. said no need for a script) and that my mom had a Crockpot full of mulled wine. I barely remember dinner (and no I wasn't drunk) the whole thing was like an out of body experience. My dad suggested at dinner that we go around and each say what we were thankfull for, I shot him daggers and my mom said mayber not this year. I do remember the frequent bathroom trips and crying quietly to myself every time I had to change a pad. Some how, finally, it was over.
December 2009 was when I decided that I would just "be over it." I bought presents, I decorated my house, I baked cookies, I smiled my fake smile, I anxiously waited for AF. About 10 days before Christmas, DH and I had a really ridiculous fight about presents. It got really really bad, it's probably the worst fight we have ever had, ever. We screamed and threw things, DH piut on his coat and stormed out. In tears I went upstairs and made our bed. I could barely see straight through the anger, the fear, the sadness. Through our bedroom window I watched DH punch his knuckles raw on our garage door. I actually thought about leaving and never coming back, about driving away and never looking back. I never told that to anyone before; not even DH. He came back in and apologized, I tried to explain that I wasn't really fighting about presents, that I was just hurting; he said he understood. He still makes "funny" comments about the fight when we talk about presents; I don't think he will ever understand that's not what we were fighting about. The holidays passed and I pasted on my fake smile. It's there for everyone to see in all the photos.
Then came New Year's Eve. A seemingly innocuous holiday. DH's BFF decided however it would be the absolute perfect night to get married; to his pregnant fiancee; who was exactly 6 weeks ahead of me. Great fun. It was a shotgun type affair in the church basement. It was BYOB, and sicne it was New Year's Eve I decided to start in a little early. I drink occassionally; here and there; I have only been really drunk 1 time in my life. Before we left the house I drank 1 entire bottle of white wine. After we got there, they got married yadayada. At the reception people started in on when we would have kids (as I knew they would) I made up a drinking game with myself and drank whenever anyone mentioned kids or babies. They stated passing the 1 baby that had been brought around to everone to hold. I drank 1 1/2 more bottles of wine. DH really didn't stay at the table much; he was the Best Man and was busy with pictures etc. During the last dance I threw up alone in the bathroom.
So this is why I dread the holidays. This is what I will remember this year. I know that this isn't all I will remember and that eventually (please) there will be happier memories to crowd these out. I still don't know if we will go on vacation, although I need to decide this week to get the deal we are looking at. I hope though thatnow that I written this the memories will stop playng themselves over and over in my head. . . Thanks for reading . . .
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