I started this as a journal, of sorts, for myself. I figured that if it helped someone, that would be a perk. I see now that there was a comment on my first entry, so I'm thinking that people may actually be reading this, so I should try to pass on some wisdom.
When I first experienced my miscarriages, I did a lot of searching on the internet and it did help to find blogs of other women who had been through this. Just knowing that you aren't alone helps a little. At first, it felt like I would never be at a point where I could even function, let alone be happy. I'm glad to say that I am now in a place where I can go a day, sometimes longer, without thinking about the miscarriage. As a disclaimer, everything expressed here relates to my situation and no one else's. I realize that what worked for me, may not be what someone else needs.
Having come out on the other side of this mess, I can now share with you what helped me. Again, I stress that this helped me. It may or may not apply to you, but I figure that anything is worth a shot when you are absolutely miserable.
Yesterday, I posted that being on meds helps keep the pain at bay. Again, medication may not be for everyone, but it has given me a welcome relief. I am a very emotional person under normal circumstances. Under the duress of two miscarriages, I was a wreck. Normally, I would say that I enjoy being able to feel emotions at their rawest form--it does make me feel alive. I've heard someone say that she didn't feel like herself when she took medication because she couldn't feel emotion. I needed a break from the emotion. Anyway, my post yesterday reminded me of the book, New Moon.
Laugh if you want, but the Twilight series was the buoy that I needed in my storm. Seriously. I picked it up about 6 weeks after the second miscarriage and it was exactly what I needed. I had tried to read a book about getting through miscarriages, but it just made me even more miserable. I found no comfort in religion. I needed a distraction. I became engrossed in this series and they gave me something else to think about. It got me through the roughest part. Then, I decided that I was ready to try medication. I'm still totally in love with the books and have read them all twice. If you haven't gotten hooked yet, you might give them a try. The second book, New Moon, really hit home. The main character goes through a very dark time in her life and I was really able to connect with her pain. Sure, she is 17 and I'm 30. She is fictional and I am...not. She lost her first love and I lost two children, but...we are both women and we bear some absolutely unbearable pain.
Here are some pieces of wisdom from New Moon (copyright Stephenie Meyer)...
"I wished I could feel numb again, but I couldn't remember how I'd managed it before. The nightmare was nagging at my mind and making me think about things that would cause me pain....Even as I shuddered away from the images, I felt my eyes fill with tears and the aching begin around the edges of the hole in my chest. I took one hand from the steering wheel and wrapped it around my torso to hold it in one piece." (pg 123)
"The hole came back, the way it always did when I was away from Jacob, but it didn't throb so badly around the edges. I was already planning ahead, looking forward to more delusions, and that was a distraction...That made the empty hole and the familiar pain easier to bear; relief was in sight. The nightmare, too, had lost a little of its potency. I was horrified by the nothingness, as always, but I was also strangely impatient as I waited for the moment that would send me screaming into consciousness. I knew the nightmare had to end." (pg 193)
"I was like a lost moon--my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of desolation--that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity." (pg 201)
"I was an empty shell. Like a vacant house--condemned--for months I'd been utterly uninhabitable. Now I was a little improved. The front room was in better repair. But that was all--just the one small piece..." (pg 216)
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Gone so long...and really none the wiser
Wow. Just rereading my entries. Bitter much?
I guess the difference now is that I'm on meds. Nothing hurts quite as bad. It is like, you know the pain is there, but you just feel the edges of the pain--not the whole thing. I'm in therapy, too, but I'm going to have to cut back to once a month instead of the once a week that felt really good.
For months, we have gone back and forth between, A) Let's have a baby right now. and B) Who needs another mouth to feed? Not us.
We had decided to wait until the new year to even talk about it. The new year came and went and we are no closer to a decision than we were.
There was a big ugly date that was posted to our bulletin board that kept screaming at me in exclamation points. (Is there any other way to scream?) Long story, but the short version is that our daughter's crib was recalled last summer. Since she was 2-1/2, we went ahead and moved her to a toddler bed. We figured that we would be needing the crib again soon anyway. We received a voucher for a new crib and we would have to purchase this crib by 1/31/09. That seemed like a million years away, so no biggie. Then, of course, the unthinkable happened.
Suddenly, this voucher and its date were mocking me. So cruel. We still hadn't made a decision by The Date, though I thought about it every day, so we took it to the baby store and picked out a stupid crib for a baby that probably won't get conceived. I, being on meds, actually made it through the experience I'd been dreading with little emotion. Hub, not being on meds, really struggled with it. He hated every minute and couldn't wait to leave. I don't even remember what we picked out, but it is sitting in the garage, still in the box. Where it will remain. Possibly until the end of time. We would give it away, but, what if?
I got laid off last week, so now all is in chaos. I guess we've tabled the discussion yet again.
I guess the difference now is that I'm on meds. Nothing hurts quite as bad. It is like, you know the pain is there, but you just feel the edges of the pain--not the whole thing. I'm in therapy, too, but I'm going to have to cut back to once a month instead of the once a week that felt really good.
For months, we have gone back and forth between, A) Let's have a baby right now. and B) Who needs another mouth to feed? Not us.
We had decided to wait until the new year to even talk about it. The new year came and went and we are no closer to a decision than we were.
There was a big ugly date that was posted to our bulletin board that kept screaming at me in exclamation points. (Is there any other way to scream?) Long story, but the short version is that our daughter's crib was recalled last summer. Since she was 2-1/2, we went ahead and moved her to a toddler bed. We figured that we would be needing the crib again soon anyway. We received a voucher for a new crib and we would have to purchase this crib by 1/31/09. That seemed like a million years away, so no biggie. Then, of course, the unthinkable happened.
Suddenly, this voucher and its date were mocking me. So cruel. We still hadn't made a decision by The Date, though I thought about it every day, so we took it to the baby store and picked out a stupid crib for a baby that probably won't get conceived. I, being on meds, actually made it through the experience I'd been dreading with little emotion. Hub, not being on meds, really struggled with it. He hated every minute and couldn't wait to leave. I don't even remember what we picked out, but it is sitting in the garage, still in the box. Where it will remain. Possibly until the end of time. We would give it away, but, what if?
I got laid off last week, so now all is in chaos. I guess we've tabled the discussion yet again.
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