Monday, April 10, 2006

"And sings the tune - without the words, and never stops at all"

I have hope. This is what it boils down to. The beta has spoken, the dr. has spoken, the blood I am still losing and my almost pain-free, visibly smaller boobs speak to me daily, and yet, I have hope.

Hope and I, we know each other well. I always seem to be able to cling to it long after all the facts say otherwise, yes? I always seem to ride it wildly in the face of death.

I told my mum, actually right after I wrote my last post. She rang me and all of a sudden waiting for that 2nd beta didn’t seem to make much sense. I know. They are worried and mostly want to make it all better. Ha. Wish someone could.

I cannot talk to E. abt this, not quite. Well I can, as long as I don’t say death, dead or dying. He is waiting for the 2nd beta tomorrow to allow himself to believe the unavoidable. He hopes, as well, against all odds.

There is a not so wide gap between an embryo and a baby. In my mind, I have crossed it. Maybe it’s not quite a baby I am losing, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t planned, it was very much wanted, in abstract, and now in concrete. I did it all backwards, first thinking I’d miscarried, then the u/s showing it might still be alive, then realising with the beta that it is dying. It didn’t help. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how or where you started, it doesn’t matter how you got there, it doesn’t much matter what lay in between. I still want it to live. It is still mine, it has become mine despite its impossibility.

I am losing the potential of this baby, and it hurts like the bloody hell.


Some of you have asked abt the beta and how I am, physically. Blood should be drawn tomorrow at around 2.30 pm, and the results are ready within 30-60 min, so I should be posting them btwn 4-5 pm my time [when it's midnight here it's 4 pm in Berkeley]. I will wait for the dr. to come give me the values, in the little Enya-infested waiting room. Physically, I am in no pain, no cramping anymore, just a vague and rather alien feeling of pressure, of stretching, weight, in my uterus from he ovaries to the pubic bone, on the sides. It is so uncomfortable in a painless way it bothers me when I speak in a more enthusiastic tone or for longer periods of time, like I'm pulling something. Nothing can be growing in me right now so I can't very well think it's round ligament pain. Oh, my lower back does hurt all the time. I am still bleeding a bit every day, not much, and the blood is rather bright but no clots. I am surprisingly weak and tire very easily, especially when I stand for a while. My belly still looks the same - it was beginning to depress me, the fact that I seemed to all of a sudden be gaining weight on my belly, and I couldn't think of a reason bcs I wasn't eating all that much more. E. would sometimes remark I looked pregnant - but then he says it often, it's wishful thinking on his part. I am often thirsty (a very rare thing for me) and drink loads of fluids these days. I'd fall asleep easily at night bcs I get so tired from doing basically nothing and then become slightly feverish and sweat a bit around my neck and chest, the same odor-free sweat I produce when I am normally ill and feverish (haven't had a fever in 3 days). I wake up often during the night, often after only a few hours, and then it takes me forever to fall asleep again. I am also constipated. And now I must drink some more tea again.

Ps - Couldn't be bothered with the exam, didn't even go.
PPS - Woke up at 2 am cramping, still at it. Also, sharp piercing small pain in right ovary area. Who wants to place bets it's only gas? I know what will inevitably happen but I almost considered going to the ER just to have confirmation that it's started. But no bleeding. I NEED YOUR HELP HERE, if anyone knows: how long after you'd started feeling this way did you miscarry?


Links to this post:



At 10/4/06 23:29, Blogger Ed said...

Oh J, I wish I was close enough to be able to put the kettle on for you and give you a big hug. Sometimes words are not enough - only a hug will do.

I have to say I think you were right to tell your mother, though.

Please do take it easy. Is there any way you can avoid taking that exam and maybe take it at a later date?

You'll continue to be in my thoughts.

At 10/4/06 23:40, Blogger Jen P said...

I second wanting to put the jug on and make your tea. I'm a crap cook but I would cook and cook for you.

I'm on pins and needles for you.

Rest well and best wishes

Jen P

At 10/4/06 23:48, Blogger Miz Hatbox said...

There are no words (other than "fuckfuckfuckfuck!") for how rotten a miscarriage is. Especially if that bitch, Hope, steps in and tells you "ooh, it might work out after all!.... oh, sorry, I guess not. Nevermind."

I am so sorry. I wish you speedy healing.

At 11/4/06 00:25, Blogger brooksba said...

I wish I could just give you a hug. I'm thinking of you a lot.

Love you!

At 11/4/06 00:38, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hold each other tight. I am thinking of you all the time. V.

At 11/4/06 04:04, Blogger CarpeDM said...

I wish I could be there to hug you right now. Thinking of you.

At 11/4/06 04:44, Blogger JoeinVegas said...

How about another cup of tea? Honey in this one? And I've saved you the green M&Ms.

At 11/4/06 09:24, Anonymous Kath said...

Dear Lioness, it's so sad and awful, what you're going through. And here I was hoping against hope that your soul could get through this unscathed...

I don't know what to tell you about the miscarriage process. I only miscarried "properly" once, and that was a week of bleeding and not-really-painful cramps. Each process seems to be unique in its details and awfulness.

Thinking of you and sending you and Loverboy thoughts of comfort and support.

At 11/4/06 10:58, Blogger Ana said...


I'm so sorry you are going through this. I wish there was something I could say to make it all better. Unfortunatly, there isn't.

With the mole I never misscarried and ended up having a D&C (actually two). They put you under for it so I have no memory of the actual procedure. The recovery wasn't so bad, phisically speaking.

As for Hope, I tend to have a very close relationship with her in the oddest times. But sometimes she can be a bitch.

I'm thinking of you and I'm minutes away, remember that.

At 11/4/06 11:38, Blogger Serialangel said...

This is not fair, for you or for me. I'm so used to looking after everybody - I want to feed some messed up soul food - jerk fajitas - and make you tea and tidy your room, feed your cat, take you to hospital and make you don't have to think or say a thing for the next few hours.

*Sigh* You'll get my crappy internet hugs *Hugsss* but I hope you have a hug whore you're getting for free at home.

Love you so much,
Betty xxx

At 11/4/06 13:39, Blogger Diana said...

Hope's a funny thing, isn't it. For me, it makes me feel split entirely in two. The rational part vs the hopeful part, resulting in my feeling completely disconnected and wanting to yell at everyone. Yes, I'm just stalling, waiting for the results, wanting you to know I'm here in spirit, with nothing useful to say.

As always, I send my love.

At 11/4/06 15:54, Blogger Ana said...

It's almost 4 pm and I'm about to start hitting refresh every 5 minutes. I hope you're ok.

At 11/4/06 20:21, Blogger Jen P said...

The pain on your ovary is most likely the Corupus Luteum cyst that supports the pregnancy. I had a hell of a time with one (I had 3 actually).

That sharp pain might be gas (and it's so embarassing but one of the most common and annoying pg symptoms) but I'd go for the CL cyst.

*Refresh* *Refresh* *Refresh*

At 11/4/06 21:32, Blogger Agent Sierra said...

Consider this a virtual hug from across the Atlantic.

I've been there before, and it is painful. What you are experiencing is normal, although nothing about your body feels that way now.

Hang in there, dear. We'll hope for your safe return. :)

At 12/4/06 04:25, Anonymous Manuela said...

Oh, my sweet Johnny... I'm so sorry I havent' been back to post before now... I've been impossibly tied up at my new job.

My heart just aches for you... I sit here nodding my head in complete and gut-wrenching understanding of the havoc that hope can wreak on one's heart. The parenting instinct is so powerful that I so often have seen it completely over-ride the drudgery of common sense.

This experience is truly something that I wish we didn't have to have in common, my friend.

Much love... and slobbery caribou kisses being sent from Canada.

At 12/4/06 13:14, Anonymous Kateri said...

I'm really sorry you are going through this, Lioness. You are in my thoughts.

At 12/4/06 23:13, Blogger Sunnie said...

My first time here, but posting by way of Manuela, We are all here for you. I am so sorry.


Post a Comment

<< Home