Emotional roller coaster

I went to church today, and it was really really hard. I don't think I was ready to interact that intensely with people. During the sermon I was all over the place, I had a really hard time caring what the pastor had to say (and he's a great pastor, this isn't a swipe at him nor his preaching).

A few people didn't realize we had miscarried and came up to me to offer congratulations. Yeah, awkward and difficult. I know they meant well but it sucked anyway.

Someone else who lost a baby told me a couple days ago: "When people say the wrong thing to you - and they will - remember that they desperately wanted to say the right thing." That was really good advice, and I had to remember it today. I have to remember that not everyone went to nursing school and learned the 'therapeutic communication' thing, and everybody hasn't read the list of 'what not to say'. I heard ALL the wrong things today.

"It wasn't meant to be." Yes, I know that, but right now I don't want to hear it, because I still have to wake up every morning and remind myself that I'm not pregnant anymore. I know it wasn't meant this way, but it felt like such a devaluation of Katie, and of the pain I'm feeling right now.

"Oh, you're young, you can have more." As if this one doesn't count. As if having another one will magically erase the loss of this one. As if another one is a guarantee. Yes, I'd like another one, but what about this one? This one was special too, and still is.

"How far along were you? Oh, less than six weeks? Oh, well, so you were early." Yes, and? You think I hadn't already bonded with this baby? You think I just bled and went on with my life? Come on.

Like I've already said, most people have been wonderful. The above hasn't been the majority of people, and even these people (as mentioned before) weren't intending to hurt. I know that. And I don't expect everyone to know what to do or say...which is why I'm getting it out here in a relatively safe anonymous place instead of being mad to their face when I know they were just doing/saying what they thought was best.

Ugh. This sucks a big one.

Questions and mental ramblings...

Will Katie's soul come back to us in another pregnancy, or is this it? Will we have to wait 'til heaven to see her again?

How long does it take for the acute stab-in-the-heart to go away? How long before it won't sting first thing every morning when I wake up and realize that I should still be pregnant but am not?

Was there something genetically wrong with her, and if yes, would it have been something I could have lived with had she made it to term? Or was this a fluke? Does it even matter?

What stings more than anything isn't seeing women with a baby, as in just one. What stings the most is seeing women with two babies. Because that should, in a perfect world, be me. I want to go up to these women and tell them it's not fair.

I am not really mad at God...yet. I wonder if I will get that way. If not, that would be fine with me....don't really like arguing with the man upstairs. But I do not understand his ways sometimes.

Small blessings

Losing a baby sucks, there is no way around that. It blows. But, I am learning - slowly - that some good has already come of it, and there is probably some more that has yet to occur.

• The body of Christ - I have been literally held up and held together by prayers, messages, and phone calls from my brothers and sisters. I done a lot of questioning God, and a lot of short prayers ("God, please take care of my Katie." "God, please help my husband"...that kind of thing) but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my family in Jesus is talking to God on my behalf, and that has made a huge impact.*
• I now know what my patients feel like - I work with many women who are currently experiencing or have in the past experienced a fetal loss. I like to think I did a decent job before of at least trying to put myself in their place...but now I don't have to try. I know what it is like. I know exactly what that pain is, I have felt that dagger pierce my soul.
• I realize the value of my healthy kid - It's so easy to take what one already has for granted. For me, that was my healthy kid. He was born healthy and has never looked back, and I guess I just assumed that everything that grew in my womb would be that way. Now, I realize just how precious, what a miracle it is, that DNA arranges itself so well so often.
• I'm glad Mother Nature works - Now, don't get me wrong. I would not wish this agony on my worst enemy, and I'm not in any way diminishing the pain of losing my Katie. But most first-trimester losses (OB nurse brain kicking in here) occur when there is some chromosomal or other type of defect that is incompatible with life. Bodies recognize this and do their best to end the pregnancy early; it's everyone's way of trying to keep the human race healthy. This may sound odd, but I'm glad that even though I feel like my body failed me in a way - failing to keep the pregnancy - that in another way, it knew exactly what it was doing. I hope this doesn't sound too crass. It's not meant to be.
• I've already done what I thought I could never do - bury a child. Granted, I didn't have this child at term, raise her like I've raised my son, and then have to bury her. I don't even want to go there. But this baby was no less mine, and she is in the ground. And I did it.

* - I should add here: I have several friends/family who don't believe in a God at all or who don't practice any faith. They have been the face of Jesus to me as much as anyone else. And they know it too.

This has been without a doubt the absolute hardest thing I've ever faced, the biggest trial of my faith, the biggest test of me as a person. God has been so good, in surrounding me with people who care. The presence of people who care, just knowing that people care, gets this family through each day.

Burying baby Katie

Last night we buried whatever we could find of the pieces of membrane/sac/tissue I passed. When I saw them come out Tuesday, I just couldn't bring myself to flush them down the toilet. I just couldn't. So I wrapped them in toilet paper. And last night we buried them.

I wasn't sure if my husband would be okay with it, or if he'd think it was stupid. I told him where I was going and went to get a shovel. I was standing out in the backyard trying to find a good spot to bury her (I am calling this one a 'she'), and shortly afterward, he joined me. That was the first time I had really cried hard in front of him, and we just stood there for a minute and held each other. He picked a good spot (which was, incidentally the spot I had been leaning toward), and started digging. At that point our son joined us out there. After my husband finished digging (not a huge hole, it's not like there was a lot to bury), our son put what was left of his baby sister (or brother, as he reminds me) in it, and we all put a handful of dirt over her. Her daddy covered her back up and replaced the mulch over the spot. She's buried beside the maple tree in our backyard.

We all stood there for a minute, nobody really saying anything, just holding on to each other, and I guess that's how we said goodbye. Hubs went back in the house, and my son and I stayed out there for a bit. I couldn't leave her just yet, and I guess neither could he. Then my son did something so completely spontaneous and heartfelt it made me let loose with a whole new flood of tears, and at the same time, comforted my heart in a way I can't articulate here. He went and got a handful of sand from his sandbox and spread it over the mulch - contributing something that's 'his' to his baby sister. Afterward, he picked several flowers - one of each color that we have in that particular flowerbed - and put them over top. Oh God, it was the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

My husband didn't feel the need to pick a name for the lost baby, but I asked him if he minded if I did. He didn't mind, so I named her. Her name is Katherine Jane, Katie for short. I don't know why, but both those names came to me and wouldn't leave. A friend of mine from work is going to bring me her stepping stone kit so we can make her resting place a bit more permanent.

Goodbye.

Today is a new day

Today is better than yesterday was. Of course, that's a relative term when the subject at hand is a lost pregnancy.

Physically I feel more or less okay. Emotionally/psychologically I am all over the place. One minute I am fine, the next minute I am a sobbing, weepy mess. I go back and forth between being angry at no one in particular (honestly, who is there to be mad at?), and sad (damn it, I miss this baby!), and relieved that Mother Nature is doing her job (losses this early on are usually related to some major chromosomal defect that's not compatible with life).

Several of my friends and family have lost pregnancies too. I am not glad that they've had losses, but glad that they have been wonderful. In letting me know I'm not crazy for crying over the slightest thing. For wanting to give this baby a name. For not wanting to really interact that intensely with many people. For being glad (maybe TMI) to actually see the membranes/sac when they passed, the only tangible connection to the baby that I carried. I am not expecting to be 'over it' any time soon, and am not even sure about work this weekend yet, that will have to be played by ear. I'm expecting to take a few steps forward and a step back here and there.

Things I am grateful for:
- My husband made vegetable beef soup for supper yesterday evening. Hispanic culture is such that it encourages women to eat soup postpartum. Hubs isn't a big talker, but I think this was his way of acknowledging, and maybe even mourning?
- Aforementioned women among my friends and family who have closed ranks around me.
- My son, who is a constant reminder that life goes on, that people need me, and that there is still beauty to be found.

Angel baby

Started miscarrying today...and it bites.
My son picked these flowers for me today because he saw me not feeling so hot.
My friends and family have been there, and I am grateful. My husband made comfort food for supper tonight. And I think one day we'll see our baby again, whether his/her soul comes back to us in another pregnancy, or if we have to wait til heaven. Either way, our baby is in God's hands.

Out of the mouths of babes...

Kiddo wanted to see a 'picture' of what his baby brother/sister looks like so we did a Google search for what a baby looks like at 5 weeks pregnant. We find the pic, he looks at it for a minute, and....

"Oh. That looks like a shrimp."

Coming soon

Starring: a person to be named later
Co-producers: Mom & Dad
Director: God
Incubator: Mom
Supporting actor: Happy big brother
Arrival in a theater near you: Around April 12, 2011

Switching gears a bit....I know you will be heartbroken, because I know you REALLY wanted to hear more from the world's coolest great white shark. Sorry to disappoint.

I'm really damned tired of hearing about the mosque/community center/whatever the heck it is these folks want to build in NYC. Let them build it already and be done with it. Surely there are bigger fish to fry, like say, that 30,000 children starve to death every day. I mean, really? Children are dying of hunger (or malaria, or diphtheria, all preventable things) and we are pissed off about people exercising their freedom of religion on private property? (which, by the way, just happens to be a right guaranteed to all of us by the Constitution...even and especially the unpopular religions.)

I've heard all the talking points en contra, and frankly, none of them impress me. Either we have freedom of religion in this country or we don't. If we do, let's not stand in the way of it being built (whether we actually believe in Islam or think it's 'the way' is another issue altogether). If we don't, let's ban synagogues, temples, mosques, shrines, and whatever else, and become a totalitarian Christian state (which, I hope, we can all agree is a bad idea and not want God wants us to do with His name).


For heaven's sake, 9/11 was painful, terrible day for all of us. For the entire country. For most of the world. I get that. We all do. But in my mind, the absolute worst thing we as a nation can do is reinforce he image that's already out there that yep, we are incapable of separating Muslims from terrorists and terrorists from Muslims. Never mind that the rest of the world has been dealing with terrorism for a lot longer than we have, and mostly from non-Muslims, and some even from Christians! (Northern Ireland, for example)


It makes me angry. Really angry, because while I don't believe in Islam, I do love Muslims. I love Muslims for the same reason I love Atheists, Hindus, Buddhists, and Pastafarians, that being because God loves them and died for them. I refuse to demonize an entire group of people because a few idiots decide to use religion to cover a political agenda. I refuse to be afraid of people (the few who actually are extremists) who can only kill my body and not my soul.


I read an article, the whole of which I thought was really good. But this quote in particular stands out to me: The Lord once promised, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God." He must have known when He said it that He probably wouldn't have to make good on it. How many peacemakers do you know?


I am trying really hard to not feel older-brother self-righteousness toward people who feel differently about this. It has been, is, and will be a challenge. Oh, there is a lot more I could say, but it is late, and this is enough.

Interview with a great white shark

...named Bruce (of Finding Nemo fame). This is Kiddo's stuffed animal/puppet that goes everywhere he does. His Pappy (my stepfather) got it for him at the San Diego aquarium a couple years ago, and it hasn't left his side since. Now that he's learning to read, Bruce is learning to read as well, and Bruce helps the kiddo do just about everything.

How old are you? "I'm like five and a half. Actually, I'm ten and a half."

What part of the ocean are you from? "Far out from the sea."

What's your favorite thing to eat? "Fish and more fish, squids, turtles, and octopuses."

What's your favorite color? "White, 'cause I'm a great white shark."

Great white sharks eat people. Do you eat people too? "Nope. I never eat people. Not even one bite of a person."

What do you like to do when you're not eating fish? "My favorite thing to do is maybe go to sleep."

What should people do if they want to be happy? "Smile."

Wisdom from a great white stuffed shark. You're welcome.
(And it is a sad day when I am reduced to interviewing a stuffed animal so as to have material for my blog. No need to remind me.)