Wednesday, July 4, 2012

A day early

In some ways I feel like I'm writing this post early, on the eve of the 11-month anniversary of losing our babies, but at the same time, no. Today is 11 months since my water broke. Eleven months since the very worst day of our lives.

The last month has not been fun. Between me battling my own depression demons and Paul's coming to light (which renders me helpless...the man is my rock, my always-upbeat partner...he can't be down!), very painful and difficult conversations about the next steps in our journey to a take-home baby, a couple of painful fights (one in front of our friends in support group, which was embarrassing until I heard later that they'd already been there, done that), the last couple of weeks have been especially tough.


Next month will be here before we know it. The enormity of a full year of grieving feels like a meteor making a slow fall to Earth, the two of us watching, sure it's going to land right on top of us. I can't believe I've survived a year of this. Truly. I expected - and even wished for - this crushing grief to kill me dead. I had nothing to live for, no reason to be here, except for my husband. And still, I got up most days, showered and dragged myself to work, to errands, to meetings. The routine finally got to be routine, and the clouds lifted a little bit more with each passing week, letting a little more sunlight in. I've had some fun, some full-blown belly laughs, and fewer and fewer tears.

Am I still broken? Yes, inside, but showing it outside less. Am I still angry? Yes, often, but not quite as often. Can I believe, still, that this is my life?


I spent some time in the last 11 months beating myself up for turning into a better person because of this, not being more humane or more loving or more...I don't know, something other than me. I read a lot of babyloss blogs, and there are always a few who write about being better than they were for the loss of their child. I'm just me...trying to navigate this loss, this life, trying to clutch onto that elusive hope that we will have at least one healthy take home baby. My head spins with wondering how this week's test results will turn out as my body continues to be in the way of getting pregnant again (Clomid Challenge test, a repeat AMH draw, and a repeat hysteroscopy for those of you in the know), wondering whether Paul really means yes when he says he's now open to donor egg IVF (something I've already come to terms with and am ready to undertake), how we're going to come up with a satisfactory answer to psychologists' questions about our nearly 5-year infertility struggle and the loss of our babies when we go through the donor egg process. It's just a lot. My head is full, and yet I feel like I have nothing to write about. I don't know what's up with that. Maybe it's just a slump. I can't stay in those dark places too long. It's dangerous.

Rather than spend too much time enjoying my pity party, I've been working on doing little things I enjoy, and tackling chores I don't, like pulling weeds (actually, some weeds are hugely gratifying to pull, but the vast numbers make this chore overwhelming...and given we pulled very few over the last 11 months, the suckers have a distinct advantage). Somehow, picking up and focusing on the little things helps keep my mind unstuck from the quagmire of sadness and what if's and should be's. That's a good thing...


  1. ((HUGS)) Remember not to compare your grief process to others. Everyone grieves differently and gets to their level place at different times. Tiny steps forward are good things.

  2. Sending lots of love your way...I know hard that last month was before reaching the one year mark. It sounds like you are doing the best you can...and really, that is enough.

  3. I am new and wish I had the right words to say! I am so sorry and I hope that doing small things that you like helps you to continue to cope & grieve in the way that is best for you!

  4. I wish something works out for you and your dh soon

  5. "Am I still broken? Yes, inside, but showing it outside less."

    This statement just struck such a chord with me. It's so, SO true. I'm more broken inside than I've ever been, but I'm real good at faking "okay".

    Thinking of you and following along, wishing for all of us to get our rainbow babies.

  6. I've had a blog post like this stuck in my head for about a month now. For whatever reason, it's hard for me to voice how I am doing with it all right now. I think you are headed in a good direction, dealing with your loss, moving toward the takes time. I'm not sure if you ever completely heal from a second trimester loss.
    I wish the best for you during these tests and hope you have something wonderful to look forward to very soon.

  7. Oh Amy...I read this post and I had to sit on it for a bit because I had so much I wanted to say. This month is going to suck, it just will. It's so much anticipation and so many emotions and all of the unknown and it's enough to drive even the sanist person batshit crazy! I can tell you that for us the build up was much worse than the actual day, but I think all the pre-stressing and early grief prepares you for the day in ways I cannot describe.

    In a way I am looking forward to you getting the first birthday of your sweet children behind you because it is a milestone that is so big it just takes over everything and there really is a sigh of relief that will come when you realize you have survived an entire year. Although I still can't believe it is possible to survive what we have been through.

    I'm glad you felt even a little better after our talk because let me tell you, you have nothing to feel embarrassed about. This is such a stressful time and that does seem to be the time we need our spouses the most and the time the fights tend to start, which only makes the difficult worse. It sucks, but it just is.

    Whatever decision you too make about the steps to take to get to A & B's siblings I support you 100%. I wish you peace in this month long count down to the big one year milestone. Please text, email or call anytime, love you guys!

  8. Ugh... Approaching one year was SO hard for me. No matter what, the fact that a year has passed is just hard to deal with. Things improved for me after that terrible date. The second year was "better," although as you well know, it's all still there. Hopefully, year two will bring you closer to another baby, which also doesn't help the grief, but it brings joy. Thinking of you always, but especially during this next month. Btw, Hayes would be 2 on Aug. 15... Yes, it's upsetting that this date is approaching, but not nearly as much as last year. But still, it's hard.


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