Before I had my 2nd MC, I said to people, if this was to happen again, it would destroy me. The first one near enough tore me apart, and I had moments of total, absolute craziness. I don't mind admitting that; it was and still is the worst experience I've ever been through.
After MC #2, I truly expected the world to implode and that I'd end up needing psychological help. The 'benefit' of foresight though (as if there could be any benefit to this), is that I was expecting the worst after effects to play themselves out. And as such, I put a few strategies into place. The first was taking myself straight off Facebook. Ignorance is indeed, bliss. I instructed DH not to tell me ANYTHING, and after the meltdowns he's witnessed over the last few months, he was happy to go with it.
Secondly, I have avoided baby and/or pregnancy talk of any kind. At work, people know not to discuss it around me, and if it happens to come up, the subject is swiftly dropped or redirected by one of my colleagues. (I'm lucky, I know!) The other thing that makes me wonder is the anti depressants I'm on. If they are producing this feeling of almost-normality then they must be a wonder drug, and I wish I hadn't been so bloody minded after MC #1 and just given myself a helping hand rather than suffer all those months of abject misery.
Although I am enjoying this 'normal' feeling, I know that the minute we make the decision to start TTC again in earnest, I'm probably going to turn into crazy lady again. For now, that decision is on the back burner, and I think I need to take care of myself and make sure I'm psychologically steady before I do it to myself again. Plus the thought of being pregnant utterly terrifies me at the moment.
Plodding on.
Monday, 25 November 2013
Tuesday, 12 November 2013
Blood testing...
So yesterday I finally got in to get my bloods tested. I'm still not sure this will achieve anything given the uselessness of my doctor. I fully expect the bloods to come back 'normal', even if they're not, simply because there'll be nobody at my doctors who can accurately interpret them.
Added to this, my incompetent doctor (who incidentally doesn't understand the difference between a counsellor and a mental health nurse), actually somehow managed to order the wrong blood tests for me yesterday, so I had to tell the nurse taking my bloods exactly what I needed to be tested for.
Cue a phone call from my doctor's surgery last night telling me that they hadn't taken enough bloods and I would need to go back for some more. So, drum roll please, this is what I am (supposedly) being tested for, though it's anyones guess what will actually come back:
Cardiolipin antibodies
Hba1c
Lupus
Thromophilia
Thyroid
I don't know whether there's any more I should be having or whether this is a good starting point? I also do't know where I should go after this should I get the ' normal' results, or, as my doc likes to put it, ' no further action'.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I've been wanting for some time to put down in posts the blogs that I read regularly and that have really helped me through the last few months.
www.babyhopeful.com is one such blog that I found through Twitter, which highlights the trials and tribulations of trying to conceive, as well as dealing with miscarriage and infertility issues. There's also some hugely informative posts about such things as sperm morphology which I have found invaluable. It's also been good for me to be able to read about the emotions and feelings associated with what I, and so many others have been through, and to know that I'm most certainly not alone.
There are so many other blog posts I'd love to give a shout out to, but will be seeking their permission before I do so.
Added to this, my incompetent doctor (who incidentally doesn't understand the difference between a counsellor and a mental health nurse), actually somehow managed to order the wrong blood tests for me yesterday, so I had to tell the nurse taking my bloods exactly what I needed to be tested for.
Cue a phone call from my doctor's surgery last night telling me that they hadn't taken enough bloods and I would need to go back for some more. So, drum roll please, this is what I am (supposedly) being tested for, though it's anyones guess what will actually come back:
Cardiolipin antibodies
Hba1c
Lupus
Thromophilia
Thyroid
I don't know whether there's any more I should be having or whether this is a good starting point? I also do't know where I should go after this should I get the ' normal' results, or, as my doc likes to put it, ' no further action'.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I've been wanting for some time to put down in posts the blogs that I read regularly and that have really helped me through the last few months.
www.babyhopeful.com is one such blog that I found through Twitter, which highlights the trials and tribulations of trying to conceive, as well as dealing with miscarriage and infertility issues. There's also some hugely informative posts about such things as sperm morphology which I have found invaluable. It's also been good for me to be able to read about the emotions and feelings associated with what I, and so many others have been through, and to know that I'm most certainly not alone.
There are so many other blog posts I'd love to give a shout out to, but will be seeking their permission before I do so.
Monday, 4 November 2013
My pregnant best friend
So, um, yeah. One of my closest, best friends is pregnant.
This is not just any friend. This friend is my DD's godmother. She was one of my bridesmaids. She was the one who came with me to the scan that revealed my first MMC in February. She was one of the very few people who sat with me while I spewed out the horrible truth about how I really felt, who came over to my house just to sit with me, who would pull me away from situations where I was faced with a pregnant lady, who would really listen and get me to breathe and talk me out of my moments of madness. She told me she didn't want to try for a baby until I was pregnant again because she didn't want to hurt me any more than I was hurting already. Of course, I told her not to be ridiculous, and I remember a few months ago, she texted me to tell me that she and her OH were thinking of trying for a baby and she would understand if I couldn't speak to her any more (I mean, this was how bad she must have thought I was coping to even suggest that).
Fast forward a couple of months. I found out I was pregnant again in August. Naturally, she is one of the few people I tell in real life. She was overjoyed, relieved even, because she too, was pregnant, just a few weeks ahead of me, and she didn't know how the hell she was going to tell me. We have a few weeks where neither of us dare to believe it's happening. She's terrified because she has seen what could potentially happen, I'm terrified because I know first hand what can happen. And deep down, there's that niggling voice saying 'There's no way the both of you are going to get out of this okay, and it's going to DESTROY your friendship'.
Her scan was 2 weeks ahead of mine. She texted me to tell me she was fine and she'd been put a week ahead of her dates. And then the gut wrenching, sick feeling again. You know what happened the next week. I texted her and she came straight round, sobbing. We sat and cried together. She told me that she wanted me to be a big part of her baby's life, but she would understand if I had to stop seeing her, or if not, I had to tell her if things were too difficult for me and she would keep away until I felt stronger. Which would be okay, you think.
But here's the problem. This is the friend who, on finding out I was pregnant with DD, was so excited that she collected a big box of gifts and clothes that she gave to me when I was 8 weeks pregnant (ahhh, the ignorance of innocence!)She was the friend who would sit with me eagerly talking babies and getting involved in everything to do with the pregnancy. When DD was born, she would come round and help me (I was and still am not naturally maternal, though she undoubtedly is). She would even take DD for a walk in her pushchair while I rested. As DD has gotten older, she's gotten increasingly close to her Auntie GG, who comes round to see her and play with her and read her stories. If there's anyone I wouldn't have minded getting pregnant, it was her.
That was until all this happened. I feel awful saying it because I love her to bits, and truly, deep down inside I am happy for her. I can sense her pulling away. Not to be nasty, I know, but because I know that she too can sense that being around her hurts me. She texts my mother to ask after me mostly, occasionally DH. Sometimes she will text me but often waits until I text her, which I'm finding it harder and harder to do.
I want to be there to support her like she supported me. I want to get excited for her, I want to ask after her scans, I want her to be able to talk to me about her symptoms and her feelings and everything, but I just can't. I can't face it, and I just feel like the shittiest, most horrible person. I miss her. I know that I could call any time and she would be there but something stops me. I don't know what the answer is to any of this.
Perhaps there is none. I just know that this feeling won't go away, and I really really want it to.
This is not just any friend. This friend is my DD's godmother. She was one of my bridesmaids. She was the one who came with me to the scan that revealed my first MMC in February. She was one of the very few people who sat with me while I spewed out the horrible truth about how I really felt, who came over to my house just to sit with me, who would pull me away from situations where I was faced with a pregnant lady, who would really listen and get me to breathe and talk me out of my moments of madness. She told me she didn't want to try for a baby until I was pregnant again because she didn't want to hurt me any more than I was hurting already. Of course, I told her not to be ridiculous, and I remember a few months ago, she texted me to tell me that she and her OH were thinking of trying for a baby and she would understand if I couldn't speak to her any more (I mean, this was how bad she must have thought I was coping to even suggest that).
Fast forward a couple of months. I found out I was pregnant again in August. Naturally, she is one of the few people I tell in real life. She was overjoyed, relieved even, because she too, was pregnant, just a few weeks ahead of me, and she didn't know how the hell she was going to tell me. We have a few weeks where neither of us dare to believe it's happening. She's terrified because she has seen what could potentially happen, I'm terrified because I know first hand what can happen. And deep down, there's that niggling voice saying 'There's no way the both of you are going to get out of this okay, and it's going to DESTROY your friendship'.
Her scan was 2 weeks ahead of mine. She texted me to tell me she was fine and she'd been put a week ahead of her dates. And then the gut wrenching, sick feeling again. You know what happened the next week. I texted her and she came straight round, sobbing. We sat and cried together. She told me that she wanted me to be a big part of her baby's life, but she would understand if I had to stop seeing her, or if not, I had to tell her if things were too difficult for me and she would keep away until I felt stronger. Which would be okay, you think.
But here's the problem. This is the friend who, on finding out I was pregnant with DD, was so excited that she collected a big box of gifts and clothes that she gave to me when I was 8 weeks pregnant (ahhh, the ignorance of innocence!)She was the friend who would sit with me eagerly talking babies and getting involved in everything to do with the pregnancy. When DD was born, she would come round and help me (I was and still am not naturally maternal, though she undoubtedly is). She would even take DD for a walk in her pushchair while I rested. As DD has gotten older, she's gotten increasingly close to her Auntie GG, who comes round to see her and play with her and read her stories. If there's anyone I wouldn't have minded getting pregnant, it was her.
That was until all this happened. I feel awful saying it because I love her to bits, and truly, deep down inside I am happy for her. I can sense her pulling away. Not to be nasty, I know, but because I know that she too can sense that being around her hurts me. She texts my mother to ask after me mostly, occasionally DH. Sometimes she will text me but often waits until I text her, which I'm finding it harder and harder to do.
I want to be there to support her like she supported me. I want to get excited for her, I want to ask after her scans, I want her to be able to talk to me about her symptoms and her feelings and everything, but I just can't. I can't face it, and I just feel like the shittiest, most horrible person. I miss her. I know that I could call any time and she would be there but something stops me. I don't know what the answer is to any of this.
Perhaps there is none. I just know that this feeling won't go away, and I really really want it to.
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