Friday, July 25, 2008

Maybe, Not Such A Happy Post


I've just come from Issa's... go read it so you know what I am talking about... I'll wait for you.

***

A miscarriage is one of those things that people will say is "for the best" or "wasn't meant to be" or "God's will"... very few say what you want them to say which is, "This is so f*cked up!"

Like Issa, I was 14 weeks when I lost my 3rd child.  Past the magic "12" week number... in the safety zone!

Unless your child had stopped growing at 10 weeks, like mine.

I went to the OB for pre-op the day before my D&C was scheduled and as I was up there on the table, with my feet in stirrups, trying to mentally disengage from my surroundings, I heard the distinct sound of what I thought was rushing water.  I remember wondering if someone had turned on the sink?

It took a moment to realize that the sound was not water crashing into a basin, but rather blood, pouring out of me and crashing on the floor.

I spent the next week in the Critical Care Unit of the hospital, grateful that I had the good fortune to hemorrhage in my doctor's office.

When I finally returned home I was so happy to see my children, so overcome with how close I had come to leaving them motherless, that the miscarriage, the loss of my baby, was moved to the back of my mind, it became secondary. 

How are you? friends would ask?  Good, I'm so lucky, is how I would answer. 

I focused on the here and now. How blessed I was to parent these beautiful boys... it "wasn't meant to be" I told myself... "God's will", I told myself... "For the best." I told myself.

And I moved on.

And the next year I had a hysterectomy.

And then the next year, while cleaning out the garage, and coming across the box of saved baby things... blankies and booties and feetie pajamas, all those sweet and tiny things that I had kept from Jake and Jack... things that I wanted to see my newest baby in... the grief sucker punched me.  I finally cried.  I sobbed and I pulled my hair... I lost my breath and clutched at my sides from the pain of physical sorrow... I wasn't grateful and I didn't feel lucky.  I felt screwed and betrayed and angry and goddamnit, I wanted my baby.  

Please.  

It's been 8 years and I still think of that baby... not all the time, but once in awhile... deep in my thoughts and I think maybe, in some way, my baby helped bring Eva to me to help me heal and stop thinking of what might have been.

I don't really know why I wrote this post... I guess Issa's brought it all back... and I want women to stop glossing over pain and being "ok" with things and stop being so strong for others... 

Some of this is also brought about by the myraid of BlogHer posts I have been reading... some really wonderful and talented women were intentionally hurt and in a couple of instances humiliated by others and I think... damn, isn't part of this weird Internet community about support?  Aren't we here for each other?

I think if I had a blog back in '00 my experience would have been different because I would have known that there was a "safe" place to vent my feelings and share my story.

28 comments:

Jason said...

"for the best" or "wasn't meant to be" or "God's will"...

Truer words have never been written. I HATE it when people say stuff like that after something bad has happened. After my dad's wife was rendered a vegetable in a terrible car accident, this is what people said to us. And after my 50 year old mother died of cancer with an 11-year old son left without a mother, THIS is what people said!!! I swear next time someone says that I'm just going to punch them in the nose.

I'm so sorry to hear about your miscarriage. Claire and I had three of them in the six years we were married.

Daniella said...

Just went over to your friend's blog. I too was there 2x - both were "missed miscarriages" - I always that term was weird, like I couldn't even miscarry correctly. Both times my babies stopped growing. I heard the not meant to be, gods way too often. I hated it, absolutely hated it. All I knew was my babies had died. Simple as that. There was no good in it that I could see. I went on to have my beautiful son Joseph but not one second of that pregancy was fun - I worried every single freakin minute til he was born. I never ever say those words to someone who has suffered a loss - sorry is a whole lot better. Simplier but better. Oh and by the way I am sorry for what you went through.

Anonymous said...

I lost my first 2 babies to miscarriage, both in the first trimester. It's been over 12 years since that first one, but they will never be completely out of my mind or heart.

TBG Happenings said...

Sometimes people just don't know what to say...and the dumbest things come out of their pie holes!

"Sorry" "I am here if you need me.' these all work....only a few people offered these helpful words when I lost a baby at 12 weeks. I have never been so sad as I was during that time.

I too think about that baby .....

Anonymous said...

You're right. people don't know what to say and I am sure I have said my share of dumb and insensitive things. As a society, we've become very casual about miscarriages because they unfortunately happen to a lot of women and therefore we treat them as common and not for the proper loss which they are.

Amy Y said...

I'm sorry for your loss, Kristin :(
I can't imagine knowing where to begin with that kind of pain.

Kimberly said...

I miscarried at 5 weeks (10 years ago) and I still think about it. It never goes away.

Retro Girl said...

All I can say is that I am SO deeply sorry. I hope that you find strength from the love and support of your family and friends.

Thank you for visiting me.

Kristin said...

You are all so sweet... I am fine and I don't want this post to give you the impression I am not... but, as Kimberly and Anon and TBG said, it just never quite goes away.

carrie said...

Sometimes all we need is a big hug, and a sympathetic ear and nothing more than that.

I am so sorry, and yet I see that yes - that baby brought you to where you are now.

And I think it's okay that the pain never goes away completely, I think to expect that it would, would be denying that life that was there and that soul.

I am not so eloquent today, but I hope you understand what I mean. :)

Tuesday Girl said...

I think having my twins was the only thing that made me better after my miscarriage of triplets (woah)2 years ago.
I miss those babies, they were wanted and loved.

Anonymous said...

Timeless post, perfect.

Wendy said...

Thanks for the post today. I've been missing my 2 lost babies a lot lately and it's been nearly 7 and 5 yrs since they've been gone. It does get easier, but you never forget. The worst thing someone said to me after my son was stillborn was "it's God's will". That's the day I stopped believing in God.

Hugs.

Marisa said...

Years ago I had a miscarriage in the very early part of my first trimester of my first pregnancy. If not for the fact that we were trying, I might not have even known I was pregnant and would have thought I was merely having a very heavy period. Those few weeks that I was pregnant were the happiest of my life. I felt so beautiful and womanly and like I had the best secret in the world and when I lost the baby, I was devastated. My husband and I almost split up because he could not understand or handle my grief.

It's been a long road back and I will always miss my first baby.

Tori said...

Shit - this post took me back to that awful time Kristin.

I remember you calling me on the way to that appointment and then I never heard anything more.

Hugh called us later and told us.

When I saw you, I can say that I have never seen you look so pale (you had of course lost gazillions of blood) but you also looked empty. You actually looked 100 percent better after open-heart surgery....

Anyway - we never mourned the loss of that baby because we were so glad you were alive.

I am glad you had your moment in the garage.

To pin your hopes onto such a tiny thing and for it to come to nothing...

Awful

Love you Kristin

Tor

Grandma J said...

I'm so sorry for the pain you must bear, I can't even imagine.

When people say some of those catch phrases, they mean well.

When my grandson was having a really hard time with leukemia, and he had to have a feeding tube, people said things like, "at least you have good doctors" or "the survival rate is good these days".
Or even worse, "He looks good" (he didn't). I told myself that these were the people who really cared and maybe they didn't say things "just right", but I preferred their awkward way with words compared the people who avoided me, or never asked me how he was. I lost a lot of friends who couldn't bare to be around a kid with cancer because it was depressing.
My situation was no where near what yours is, but I appreciated the kindness as it was intended, because it has to be hard to know what to say.
Lots of {{{{hugs}}}}

Kristin said...

Grandma J - You are absolutely right... people do mean well and I never took anything said to me as shallow or uncaring... they are the same things I said to myself... it's hard to be around those who are suffering or grieving... people feel uncomfortable and sometimes guilty for their own good fortune... I've learned, through my own experience, that sometimes, brutal honesty of the, "This sux" variety is sometimes much appreciated... we live and learn and hopefully help others...

Grim Reality Girl said...

"for the best" or "wasn't meant to be" or "God's will"... These are all of the things I told myself when we lost our first. We were not trying to get pregnant and the whole thing was such a shock. The loss would have been even worse had we really known what we had lost. Two kids later I get is so much more now. I know that sounds horrible -- but not having a child I didn't truly realize to my core the depth of loss. I will never understand, but I will always appreciate those who try to provide comfort -- even when their words cut me to the core.

Karen and Bob said...

I've heard all those "quotes", and you're right, I couldn't stand to hear them. I just wanted to have my babies acknowledged and to hear "I'm sorry"...sincerely. I especially hated when someone would say, "I know how you feel". No, you don't and never will unless you've been there yourself.

Most people don't know how many miscarriages I have had, or how my ectopic pregnancy almost cost me my life. And now that I have my darling daughter, who I love more than I could imagine, I still remember those babies I lost...I will never forget. Even though it's been many years, the thought of it now brings tears to my eyes.

Anonymous said...

this is the best post i have ever read on this topic. thank you.

Jenny said...

I think, having never had a miscarriage, it is the same feelings people have after a failed ivf attempt. you see the little embryo that could and when he/she doesn't stick, you feel you failed and lost someone.....the pain it seems is similar in its devastation. it is good that people now actually describe the pain, instead of glossing it.

Ninotchka said...

Beautifully written post, my friend.

Rach said...

I'm sorry for your loss. Hugs!

slackermommy said...

I totally agree. I didn't have a blog when I miscarried. I did post to message boards but it isn't the same as a blog. I really could have use a place to write my feelings and get virtual hugs in the process.

I'm so sorry about your loss. Every so often I wonder about the one I lost. I take comfort in believing these "lost" babies are angels.

Mrs. G. said...

I suffered a miscarriage at 17 weeks. It took me so long to get over it-and everyone around me needed me to be over it in about two weeks tops. Despite the idiotic platitudes, it really is a very big deal.

Great post.

Gen said...

It just plain sucks except if you were here, I'd elaborate on that with a slew of profanity.

During our infertility shit, so many people said so many things trying to be kind and all I wanted to say was "How the hell would you know what I'm going through?"

And with that said, I don't know this pain that you feel but I do know pain and loss. It never goes away. It stays with you and haunts you when you least expect it.

Much love and many hugs,
G

hippo brigade said...

I got chills, the good kind, when I read this. It was so poignant and well said. You are a strong, wonderful woman, and above all you are an amazing mother to your three beautiful children.

Becky said...

thank you for posting this..i've never had a miscarriage but i can imagine that if i had, this post would bring me great comfort.