After miscarriage, both times, since a dead baby, the hardest part for me is waiting for my first period to come. After my D&C in January it took 7 weeks. I'm nearly at 5 weeks now, the second go round. That period (no pun intended) of waiting is very distressing. I feel stuck, and a little angry with my body. I feel like I'm not moving forward. I cope with loss more easily when I can see a time of hope in the future. The standard "waiting" period for pregnancy after a miscarriage is two normal menstrual cycles. I've counseled with my OB, and there are two medications we are going to add in during early pregnancy to help sustain early pregnancy growth. I'm getting pregnant. But I can't STAY pregnant. I find myself scratching my head after birthing 4 children, that I would now have miscarriages. And even though the doctor says "It's normal, it happens, I see it a lot", I'm not so cool with it. Not really at all actually. We've prayed, we're praying, and will continue to pray to know what is right for our family. We will pray to know how to proceed as the next weeks pass, and we pray, mightily, for SUCCESS.
I don't do pregnant friends. I just don't. I have started two of my pregnancies with people I know from church, and both times I'm the one standing there with an empty uterus, while those women's pregnancies have progressed. I distance myself from friends who are trying to get pregnant at the same time, because it STRESSES me out. People think I'm a rude, or a little uncaring, but have you ever done it??? Have you ever had a dead baby, and miscarriages after, and had to have that reminder in your face. And lets be honest, it's awkward. I'm the wrong women to complain to. I'm the wrong woman to talk about being tired to, because your baby is up at all hours of the night. I'm the wrong person to complain to when you don't feel good from morning sickness, or it you're retaining too much water. It's just freaking plain awkward. And trust me, in Mormon-land you CANNOT escape it. Babies are everywhere. Pregnant bellies are everywhere. Crying newborns are everywhere. Church is full of them. My extended FAMILY is full of them. If I have the ability to protect myself a little bit, I do it. Other wise it hurts too much. It's not personal, it's self preservation.
I'm off now in search for FIREWORKS today. The 4th is coming, and I love little more than this holiday spent with my B-F-F across the street, lighting off fireworks for hours at a time. The kids get bored, but not Lisa and I. We've got this down to a science now. So, fireworks, and I should probably start with getting dressed, too....
Until next time.
xo M.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
What's your best?
Today marks 14 long, yet incredibly fast-passing months since my beloved Isaac died. I find myself in some what of a box right now after now miscarrying a second after a dead child. I cannot say that I feel more broken, mainly I feel more discouraged. But discouraged with the same resolve to keep in mind that I have been prompted, miscarriages or not, that there are still babies for my family. I don't understand this here and now. I'm tired and worn out by this immense heartache I lug around with me, day in day out. I still feel envious over other women carrying new babies. Envy over women who have had dead babies, and are now realizing the new joy and healing that comes with a new little one to hold, nurture and love. I so want that. With all my heart. That desire does not diminish the love and adoration and gratitude for the children I do have, I simply still have the desire to again, become a mother. I just cannot accept that my last birthing experience will result in a newborn dieing in my arms. There is something new for me. Something new, some day soon, I can only pray. The miracle of it all. Pregnancy is miraculous. Newborns are gifts. I want to shake women who take it for granted. They do not understand that all can be lost. Love your babies. Nurture your children. Be thankful. Please, I beg of you. I, myself, can do better.
What's your best?? Surely what yours is, and what mine happens to be is different. I've spent many a day feeling ashamed for where I am at. I perhaps, have not been as faithful a Christian as others. I have not done as well as others who pray faithfully through their trials and heartaches. I have not been in the church benches ever Sunday, as an outward symbol that I still believe. But. Friends. I have done my best.
I did not, in my most wild dreams, consider that my heartache over a lost, abuse filled childhood, could be trumped. I felt as though I had fought that good fight. I did not question God while I was being molested as a young child. I did not question God as I was smacked around as a teenager, or watched my sister get beaten in the head by the flying fists of my adoptive mother. I heard His voice. My mental health and soul was protected. But this. This. The dead baby, the miscarriages, the desperation, the anger, loneliness, this trumps it all. The heartache, although more easily masked, is still there. The same as it was when my son died peacefully in my arms. I feel it, every day, it is my constant companion. I have struggled to hear God's voice still. I cannot hear His voice as easily as I did when I was a child. I want Him to, I beg Him to, help take this away. I beg, even now as I write this post, to ease this burden. I beg Him to bless us with something new.
Friends, I have done my best. I've lost a couple friends and supporters along the way. I've lost a friend, who I have known for the past 6.5 years, that I have known all along does NOT get me. Her own fear of failure of inadequacies where dropped onto my plate. I let HER down. Her own fear of failure created a problem in our friendship that has caused it's end. Another friend, I expressed doubt in seeing her through a pregnancy, that was closely entwined with both of my miscarriages, we both lost our babies a month apart, we pregnant together, she's going to give birth, I felt my pregnancies pass through my body - - there was no compassion there. I find that compassion and understanding runs out. They run out long before the journey has been walked. I tend to hang on tight, too tightly, to ended friendships. I feel like I should make it right, even at the expense of myself. I've vowed to end that habit. I have to let it go, for my own good. Because, truly, I have done my best. Whether it's been acceptable to the watcher close by, I have done the best that I could do, given these circumstances. My best isn't graceful, or patient, or reasonable, but it's been all that I could give.
God is good. Christ lives. The scriptures will bring peace and healing into your life. When you think you cannot pray, just start talking. Talking to Him. He'll listen. God knows us, His Son stands for us. Keep journeying, on whatever road you're walking, better days are ahead. This is my promise to you, as we both search for it, that we will find it. God bless you as we walk this walk together.
What's your best?? Surely what yours is, and what mine happens to be is different. I've spent many a day feeling ashamed for where I am at. I perhaps, have not been as faithful a Christian as others. I have not done as well as others who pray faithfully through their trials and heartaches. I have not been in the church benches ever Sunday, as an outward symbol that I still believe. But. Friends. I have done my best.
I did not, in my most wild dreams, consider that my heartache over a lost, abuse filled childhood, could be trumped. I felt as though I had fought that good fight. I did not question God while I was being molested as a young child. I did not question God as I was smacked around as a teenager, or watched my sister get beaten in the head by the flying fists of my adoptive mother. I heard His voice. My mental health and soul was protected. But this. This. The dead baby, the miscarriages, the desperation, the anger, loneliness, this trumps it all. The heartache, although more easily masked, is still there. The same as it was when my son died peacefully in my arms. I feel it, every day, it is my constant companion. I have struggled to hear God's voice still. I cannot hear His voice as easily as I did when I was a child. I want Him to, I beg Him to, help take this away. I beg, even now as I write this post, to ease this burden. I beg Him to bless us with something new.
Friends, I have done my best. I've lost a couple friends and supporters along the way. I've lost a friend, who I have known for the past 6.5 years, that I have known all along does NOT get me. Her own fear of failure of inadequacies where dropped onto my plate. I let HER down. Her own fear of failure created a problem in our friendship that has caused it's end. Another friend, I expressed doubt in seeing her through a pregnancy, that was closely entwined with both of my miscarriages, we both lost our babies a month apart, we pregnant together, she's going to give birth, I felt my pregnancies pass through my body - - there was no compassion there. I find that compassion and understanding runs out. They run out long before the journey has been walked. I tend to hang on tight, too tightly, to ended friendships. I feel like I should make it right, even at the expense of myself. I've vowed to end that habit. I have to let it go, for my own good. Because, truly, I have done my best. Whether it's been acceptable to the watcher close by, I have done the best that I could do, given these circumstances. My best isn't graceful, or patient, or reasonable, but it's been all that I could give.
God is good. Christ lives. The scriptures will bring peace and healing into your life. When you think you cannot pray, just start talking. Talking to Him. He'll listen. God knows us, His Son stands for us. Keep journeying, on whatever road you're walking, better days are ahead. This is my promise to you, as we both search for it, that we will find it. God bless you as we walk this walk together.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Written words...
I received a letter from a dear friend today. I appreciate her honesty and I appreciate her genuine concern. It almost made me feel like I have my very own Mama looking out for me.
Anyways, she brought up some good points. And she brought up some points I think other people may be concerned about.
This is what I wrote back:
"The internet is a very funny thing. Because people that know me in "real/ day to day" life know that what I put on facebook or my blog is only about 5% of how I feel.
I have a heartache that I carry, that no one can take away. I have frustrations and worries and dashed dreams. While I feel those heartaches nearly all of the time, there is not anyone that truly knows how I am feeling, because I keep those parts of myself very hidden. I have been able to, over the years, and especially now, been able to keep adult feelings separate from my children. What I feel as a woman and mother has nothing to do with my sweet children. I have felt great pride in being able to appear to my children that I am their same old mother. I play. I read stories. I giggle with them. We swim. We talk. We cuddle. I cook. I clean. I bathe them, love them, care for them. To them, I am the same old Mama they have always had.
I wish there was a way to convey to the outside world that I have been able to maintain a level of joy and happiness in my life, in despite of the immense heartache I feel. So many of us have so many hidden hurts and heartaches we carry with us, with out other people being to truly help us or lesson our burdens. I feel like I have done very well that way. I have been able to maintain a healthy relationship and life style for my husband and children. I have never thrown in the towel, stayed in bed all day, let the house go, ignored my children. I have always been very present in their lives, just as I did, before I had a child died and suffered miscarriages.
Honestly, much of my "coping" mechanisms are intertwined with jokes. I don't have an on-going prescription for Xanax. I have not tasted alcohol in 13 years. I don't drink. I don't do drugs. I don't smoke. Now, that being said. There WAS a time in my life that I did. It was a great (and harmful) tool I used to escape many heart aches I've carried as a child. There are some days that feeling numb appears to be better than what I feel now. Some days I would love to escape. But I don't. I know better than that.
I don't know what the future holds for me. I don't know if I will have have more children. That is a dream I will likely chase, under the careful supervision of my doctors, until I have reason to believe I should let it go. I've been told to wait a certain number of months before we try to conceive again, and we'll abide by my doctors wishes. Going forward we may chose to keep pregnancies or miscarriages private because there is a lot of concern attached. People don't understand what it's like to be in my shoes. People don't understand it's up to Andrew and I to decide what we can handle and what we cannot. It's a very private thing. It's between Andrew, myself, and the Lord. We'll move forward at a pace that is safe. That is healthy, and that is reasonable to my excellent doctor.
I have done my very best to do well by children - - dead babies, miscarriages, or not. While I may vent to the internet world, what I truly keep hidden from so many, I feel very good about who and what I am right now. I have put my family and children first, no matter how much heartache I lug around with me.
And yes, I deleted many people from my facebook account. I need a safe outlet that I can vent with out people questioning my mental health. I need a safe place to vent where someone won't become offended, or doubt in my abilities to continue to rise above the hurt I feel. Life goes on. Some days are good for me, many are sad, even more are both. I can feel many, many things at any given time, and still be what the world would consider to be "ok".
We'll get through. Better days are ahead. Many great things only come through much perseverance. The Lord is mindful of us, and I am trying to be mindful to the way He is directing me to move forward.
I love you, and thank you for caring enough to write.
Love, Misty"
Anyways, she brought up some good points. And she brought up some points I think other people may be concerned about.
This is what I wrote back:
"The internet is a very funny thing. Because people that know me in "real/ day to day" life know that what I put on facebook or my blog is only about 5% of how I feel.
I have a heartache that I carry, that no one can take away. I have frustrations and worries and dashed dreams. While I feel those heartaches nearly all of the time, there is not anyone that truly knows how I am feeling, because I keep those parts of myself very hidden. I have been able to, over the years, and especially now, been able to keep adult feelings separate from my children. What I feel as a woman and mother has nothing to do with my sweet children. I have felt great pride in being able to appear to my children that I am their same old mother. I play. I read stories. I giggle with them. We swim. We talk. We cuddle. I cook. I clean. I bathe them, love them, care for them. To them, I am the same old Mama they have always had.
I wish there was a way to convey to the outside world that I have been able to maintain a level of joy and happiness in my life, in despite of the immense heartache I feel. So many of us have so many hidden hurts and heartaches we carry with us, with out other people being to truly help us or lesson our burdens. I feel like I have done very well that way. I have been able to maintain a healthy relationship and life style for my husband and children. I have never thrown in the towel, stayed in bed all day, let the house go, ignored my children. I have always been very present in their lives, just as I did, before I had a child died and suffered miscarriages.
Honestly, much of my "coping" mechanisms are intertwined with jokes. I don't have an on-going prescription for Xanax. I have not tasted alcohol in 13 years. I don't drink. I don't do drugs. I don't smoke. Now, that being said. There WAS a time in my life that I did. It was a great (and harmful) tool I used to escape many heart aches I've carried as a child. There are some days that feeling numb appears to be better than what I feel now. Some days I would love to escape. But I don't. I know better than that.
I don't know what the future holds for me. I don't know if I will have have more children. That is a dream I will likely chase, under the careful supervision of my doctors, until I have reason to believe I should let it go. I've been told to wait a certain number of months before we try to conceive again, and we'll abide by my doctors wishes. Going forward we may chose to keep pregnancies or miscarriages private because there is a lot of concern attached. People don't understand what it's like to be in my shoes. People don't understand it's up to Andrew and I to decide what we can handle and what we cannot. It's a very private thing. It's between Andrew, myself, and the Lord. We'll move forward at a pace that is safe. That is healthy, and that is reasonable to my excellent doctor.
I have done my very best to do well by children - - dead babies, miscarriages, or not. While I may vent to the internet world, what I truly keep hidden from so many, I feel very good about who and what I am right now. I have put my family and children first, no matter how much heartache I lug around with me.
And yes, I deleted many people from my facebook account. I need a safe outlet that I can vent with out people questioning my mental health. I need a safe place to vent where someone won't become offended, or doubt in my abilities to continue to rise above the hurt I feel. Life goes on. Some days are good for me, many are sad, even more are both. I can feel many, many things at any given time, and still be what the world would consider to be "ok".
We'll get through. Better days are ahead. Many great things only come through much perseverance. The Lord is mindful of us, and I am trying to be mindful to the way He is directing me to move forward.
I love you, and thank you for caring enough to write.
Love, Misty"
Monday, May 31, 2010
Liking me.
The last year has been my largest trial to walk through. I've been changed for the better, and some for the worst. Maybe even a lot for the worst. I was talking with some good friends tonight, and I found myself exclaiming "I like myself". I've been through a lot in my life. I've suffered many things. I've had to live a lot of things down. And because of this, I was born into this world with a very particular personality. I have some traits that I don't like about myself. I'm not very tactful. I'm a fighter. Sometimes I say too much. I'm not as gentle as I would like to be. I'm blunt to the point of fault. I came into this world with a really hard side. I had to. It's the only way I could have survived the abuse I endured for many years.
While I was carrying Isaac, and while I knew he would die, I was blessed by God to be able to put my best self forward. I felt calm. I felt a lot of tenderness towards my baby, and my older children. I felt a sense of purpose. I knew I was fulfilling a special calling for this heavenly child.
I've passed through some rough roads, on this journey we call grief. The harder parts of myself - - - the defiant, the stubborn, the angry parts of my personality are more in the forefront again. I'm tired. I feel beaten down. My patience have dwindled. I say things I should not. I say things that don't make sense to someone else, but in those words, I'm attempting to protect myself. I made it through the dead baby. Actually, I'm STILL making it through. And on top of that, I have miscarried twice. The losses keep piling up. I'm buckling.
As I exclaimed those words tonight "I like myself!!". I meant them. I'm not my best self right now, but I'm me. I've done the best that I can, and I am comfortable in my own skin. I know my faults, and I know my weaknesses. I'm painfully aware of the areas I need to improve upon. But. In the end. I'm ok with me. The good, the bad, the ugly. There are those that love me, and will be patient with me, and there are those that love me, but can't be. And that's ok, too. What they cannot give me, I can give myself: I am going to (more fully love) myself. I'm going to be more kind to myself. I'm going to be more patient with myself. Because, this too, some how, will pass.
*I've re-set my blog settings. Commenting is allowed.
While I was carrying Isaac, and while I knew he would die, I was blessed by God to be able to put my best self forward. I felt calm. I felt a lot of tenderness towards my baby, and my older children. I felt a sense of purpose. I knew I was fulfilling a special calling for this heavenly child.
I've passed through some rough roads, on this journey we call grief. The harder parts of myself - - - the defiant, the stubborn, the angry parts of my personality are more in the forefront again. I'm tired. I feel beaten down. My patience have dwindled. I say things I should not. I say things that don't make sense to someone else, but in those words, I'm attempting to protect myself. I made it through the dead baby. Actually, I'm STILL making it through. And on top of that, I have miscarried twice. The losses keep piling up. I'm buckling.
As I exclaimed those words tonight "I like myself!!". I meant them. I'm not my best self right now, but I'm me. I've done the best that I can, and I am comfortable in my own skin. I know my faults, and I know my weaknesses. I'm painfully aware of the areas I need to improve upon. But. In the end. I'm ok with me. The good, the bad, the ugly. There are those that love me, and will be patient with me, and there are those that love me, but can't be. And that's ok, too. What they cannot give me, I can give myself: I am going to (more fully love) myself. I'm going to be more kind to myself. I'm going to be more patient with myself. Because, this too, some how, will pass.
*I've re-set my blog settings. Commenting is allowed.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Immeasurable amounts of time.
I'm sitting here sporting a nice sun burn, and thinking about all the things I've been planning to blog about after taking a few weeks off, and I got nothing. Nada. Zip. Some things seem too personal, and other things, not personal enough. I have struggled with blogging for the last year. I feel like my blog has become a way for some friends to keep tabs on how I'm doing without actually doing the work to find out themselves. You know. Because it's like. Hard. To call. Or email. Because everyone knows I need space. And. I'm bitchy and moody, so who wants to check in with THAT, right?? After all, sometimes I'm not giving off the warm and fuzzy vibe. And like. I should be over my dead baby and miscarriages by now. Right??
Blogging is for me, I guess. Most of my friendships have really dwindled off. Mostly because of my own doing, and also because I'm just not that Misty people want to invest in right now. I remember beginning the walk down this road after I found out Isaac would die. I remember thinking to myself, this will be something that makes or breaks many of my relationships. And sadly enough, it's something that's broken most. The sting of my son's death stays in a passer by's memory for a few weeks, maybe even a few months, and then little by little, people move on. And I am still stuck in this place. And really, what I have found out, is many people have promised to be there for me. And they can't. Life gets in the way. School. Work. Kids. Husbands. Family. This is something I have ended up doing on my own.
And now. After two miscarriages. I find myself caring about little outside of my own children, their needs, and my husband. I buried a dead kid. I tried for something new. That dies, too. I try to be brave, move on again, I lose that pregnancy piece by piece over 7 or 8 days a couple weeks ago. And now. Now what? I don't know if there will be more children for us. I don't know what why my goals are, or my dreams. I don't know what I'm made of. I don't really know what I have left to give or can stand to lose again. Family members have fallen away. Most of my friends have. It's just me. Me and this mess, and immeasurable amounts of time to figure it out.
Blogging is for me, I guess. Most of my friendships have really dwindled off. Mostly because of my own doing, and also because I'm just not that Misty people want to invest in right now. I remember beginning the walk down this road after I found out Isaac would die. I remember thinking to myself, this will be something that makes or breaks many of my relationships. And sadly enough, it's something that's broken most. The sting of my son's death stays in a passer by's memory for a few weeks, maybe even a few months, and then little by little, people move on. And I am still stuck in this place. And really, what I have found out, is many people have promised to be there for me. And they can't. Life gets in the way. School. Work. Kids. Husbands. Family. This is something I have ended up doing on my own.
And now. After two miscarriages. I find myself caring about little outside of my own children, their needs, and my husband. I buried a dead kid. I tried for something new. That dies, too. I try to be brave, move on again, I lose that pregnancy piece by piece over 7 or 8 days a couple weeks ago. And now. Now what? I don't know if there will be more children for us. I don't know what why my goals are, or my dreams. I don't know what I'm made of. I don't really know what I have left to give or can stand to lose again. Family members have fallen away. Most of my friends have. It's just me. Me and this mess, and immeasurable amounts of time to figure it out.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Miscarriages are my thing.
I started bleeding yesterday.
Today my beta test came out horrible. 108. I should be 2000.
I'll get caught up on my giveaways as soon as I can.
Misty
Today my beta test came out horrible. 108. I should be 2000.
I'll get caught up on my giveaways as soon as I can.
Misty
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Getting a grip.
This is what I know. For me. Pregnant is better than not pregnant. But I have to tell you, the worry is almost consuming me. I want to be happy, and I want to believe and have faith that God will deliver to us a screaming, pink, healthy newborn, but the fear of the opposite is so strong. Miscarrying is in nearly my every thought. I am obsessing over pregnancy symptoms or lack there of. I worry if I’m strong enough to swing another loss. This should not be a miserable time for me, but it is. It really, really is. I am living proof newborns dies, pregnancies end, infertility happens. That is not every woman’s truth, but it’s mine.
There is nothing more the Adversary wants than for me to feel beaten down and hopeless. He wants me to believe this pregnancy is over before it’s had a chance to start. He wants me to feel like this is a lost cause. But. In fact. God can create this child for us. His plan is greater than my own. God knows our needs and broken hearts. I need to focus on what He has given me: THREE beautiful, living children. A good man. Steady and solid income. A safe and comfortable home. Health. Love. All of those things outweigh the bad. All of those things outweigh the possibility of loss. And with this possibility of great loss, we have the possibility of great hope. I need to try to focus on what is sitting in front of me instead of worrying myself sick over a pregnancy I cannot control. I cannot control the outcome. I can control how I love and live within my own life.
So for today, Satan can piss off. I have got to find away to get a hold of myself. This isn’t working for me, what I’m doing right now.
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