Almost a month ago, at 8 weeks 5 days, I found out my baby’s heart had stopped beating. Two days later, on June 3rd, I had a D&C and another baby taken from me.
Yes, I was pregnant and I’m sorry I kept it from you. There were people in my real life that deserved to know that I was pregnant before they found out on my blog. Except the shitty part is I never got to tell them that I was pregnant and instead I had to tell them I lost a fourth baby.
Four. I’ve lost four babies. That number is daunting. That number changes everything. At three, there was still a chance, my percentages were still pretty great. But four? At four they’re not so good. At four I have to start thinking that this might not happen for us. At four I have to start imagining alternatives – alternatives I never wanted to face.
I’ve tried to get on here a million times to write this post, but I could never figure out how to start it. I didn’t think I had the energy to write about this again (this was supposed to be a pregnancy blog after all). But it’s not just that, things for me have changed after losing this last baby. Everything I thought before now, is gone. I think I’m still trying to figure out how to explain how my thoughts have changed and how I’m feeling, but I still haven’t found a way to describe it. I’m certainly pissed this happened, angry that I’m having to go through this again. I never thought I’d be here…everyone that knew told me that the last baby was it, this time it was sticking. I really thought so, too. But it didn’t stick. It never sticks. Or rather, it sticks, but it’s heart just stops beating.
Something else that has changed is I’ve finally realized that I have absolutely no control over the fate of my pregnancies. While I was pregnant this last time, I took it easy. I didn’t go for my daily walks, I didn’t stay on my feet for very long, and I rested as much as I could. I also did ridiculous things like refuse to sit in the chair at my doctor’s office that I sat in the day I found out I lost the third, or refuse to turn on the light in the bathroom that was on while I was losing the second. I scheduled my appointments no where near the appointment dates from the last time. I thought the stupid Katy Perry song about fireworks that was playing the second I got in my car after seeing the heartbeat was a good sign because the lyrics really effected me when I lost the third when she says that part about doors shutting and finally the right one opens or some shit like that. But none of it helped, the baby still died. Plus it was exhausting keeping all of that up. I mean, I was bordering on OCD, I realize this. I get why I did it, though. We have absolutely no control over our pregnancies or this process we’re going through, and it gives us a feeling that somehow we’re controlling it. I get that. I’ve been superstitious my entire life and I just didn’t realize how much so until this last pregnancy. But that’s all gone now. I finally get it, universe. I have absolutely no control over what is going to happen, pregnancy or not. I hear you.
Can you sense my anger? I think that’s the biggest difference for me this time….I’m just as pissed off as I am sad, if not more. So much for the joy, eh?
This wasn’t supposed to be me. This wasn’t what I thought would be my life. But here I am. This is really happening.
My doctor wants to send me to UCSF where they specialize in fertility. I’m all for it, but worried about the cost. I have a stack of hospital bills at home as it is, and that’s with insurance. I may just have to move to Israel after all…Mo, you ready for me?
One thing that is very different this time is the support I have been given and the love I have been shown. Some incredible ladies I’ve met through this blog have given me the feeling of being understood, which was what I was missing all of the other times….and I can’t tell you what a difference it makes. I will never be able to thank you guys enough or ever have the words to describe what all of this has meant to me. I don’t think I’d be as okay as I am right now without you. You have made it easier to get out of bed, you have warmed my heart, and made me all emotional and sloppy from crying because I just feel so blessed. If I can be thankful for anything throughout all of this mess, it’s you guys. The posts you wrote while I was deep in the thick of it, and the comments people left gave me so much strength – strength I’m still feeling now. This strength is going to help me beat this, I know it will. You all are a pretty damn good consolation prize.
Of course I don’t want to leave out the people in my life not through this blog that have been there all along. I am so lucky to have you in my life, I can’t imagine it without you. Thank you for the care packages, and the calls and the love from thousands of miles away. I know most of you don’t know what this feels like, and all you can do is love me…and I’m saying now you’ve done that and I couldn’t be more thankful. And thank you, family, for loving me no matter what. I know it’s been difficult to see me like this for almost two years now, and I promise I won’t always be like this. You just have to stand by me a little while longer, okay? You have to help me fight this.
You should know that despite this anger and change in the way I’m thinking that I’m not giving up. I still somehow have hope and I’m going to fight. I’ll probably even fight harder now that odds are against me. I may finally be able to put that competitive nature to good use. Wait, can I fight against myself and win? I sure as hell hope so.
I do know one thing….four better be the last fucking number I know.