The Whole Story Without Regrets

A while ago, I had posted this incredibly ambiguous post about growing up and heartache and learning about letting go of things I can't control.  It came entirely out of left field for you readers unless you happened to be a close friend along for the ride at that point.

I wasn't sure I could talk about it, and a lot of people encouraged me NOT to talk about it.  Because culturally it's a faux-pas or some such.  But I am going to talk about it, because it happened to me, and it happens to a lot of women everywhere.  It's not something to be ashamed of.  It's something to grow from.

It's called miscarriage.  And it happens, and it isn't wrong.  It's just emotional and sad.

When I went to try on my wedding dress back in October, I was worried because I was a bit late in terms of my usual monthly plague, and I was seemingly gaining weight despite my dieting and exercise regiment.  I thought I was off because of the aforementioned diet and exercise thing... I mean, people can gain muscle and bloating happens when you retain water, of which I was consuming a small lake's worth a day.  I decided to try a pregnancy test anyway, just in case.  I had one from a previous freak out (because, well, I've never been a creature of habit, even on a chemical level apparently), and it said... positive.  Cue track of hysterical crying and uncontrollable stress-induced vomit.  I sent Bear out for some fancy digital ones while I took a long shower to calm myself.  I just wasn't trusting those pink lines.  One of them looked like it couldn't decide if it was supposed to show up or not, so I wanted a second opinion.  The digital age pee sticks arrived and I did my thing.  Apparently, they yell at you when they are ready to tell you the Big News.  I wasn't expecting this, which probably was funny in and of itself, but to be honest, nothing about this whole thing was funny at the time.  Of course, the digital things spell for you, too, and clear as day I was told I was "pregnant".

I called my mom.  I cried a lot.  I apologized for being a careless person.  I vomited every time I tried to say "pregnant" or "baby".  I repeated "oh no" and "but the DRESS" which was a ridiculous thing to fixate on, but it was easier than confronting the issue.  We drove to Planned Parenthood, because I was suddenly convinced that all pee tests were rigged.  Of course, they also confirmed it.  I thought my life was over.  I was mortified.  Totally lost and ashamed.  We weren't planning this, we were planning to get married!  And still the pee stick beeped and informed me of my imminent infant.

My parents were very supportive.  My whole family was.  Bear's family was, too.  It was almost like I tripped and fell into an alternate reality from what I was anticipating.  I was relieved, and beginning to get a little excited, too.  I wanted to make my body a healthy incubator, so I cut out caffeine, started eating right, and began the process of quitting smoking.  I was doing really well.  We moved the wedding forward by nine months (the number was ironic but not intentional) so I could still wear the dress I had just purchased.  Everything was going swimmingly.

Fast forward literally four weeks later.  I was with my mom at Target shopping for baby things for a friend's baby shower, when the cramps started.  These were no ordinary cramps.  These were "I can't breathe and my body is imploding" cramps.  I grabbed a rack of baby gear to steady myself and gasped.  Using a cart as a walker, I managed to make it to the car, and mom drove me to the ER.  They ran tests on my hormones and everything seemed good.  It was probably just gas.  Come back if things get worse.

Bear had come out to meet us and took me home.  He had to go back to the theatre and I stayed home to get some rest.  Sometime in the early hours of morning I woke up to the sound of my own screams.  I rushed to the bathroom where I realized I was bleeding.  A lot.  I called Bear.  He was on his way home.  I hopped in the shower, because I wasn't really being rational, and scrubbed myself.  I told Bear to go to bed when he came home, because I was probably overreacting.  Five minutes later, I told him to get up and bring me back to the ER.

An ultrasound, a lot of needles, and a scary moment where the heart monitor went practically flat later, I was told my body was rejecting the baby.  I went from freaking out about being pregnant in the first place to freaking out that I only got a month.  I had found out very early... two weeks in... and was just at eight.  But the fetus showed six weeks growth, and my hormones had dropped to about four.  It was ending.  I was a wreck.  I went through a lot of self-blame and torment over the whole thing.  I was quitting smoking, but I was at one a day, which I was told couldn't have been the cause, but I felt like it was.  I once ate deli meat, which apparently is bad due to some bacteria something-or-other (but didn't my mom eat ham sandwiches when she was pregnant?!).  I went through everything that I felt made the whole thing my fault.

I actually lost the baby in my own home, by myself.  I found a website about natural miscarriages and was reading other people's stories and advice and was willing myself to let go (and yes, a part of me mocked myself for becoming a desperate hippie and following calming chants).  I named the baby.  I wrote her letters.  I like to think she was a her because all my weird baby dreams were about girls, even though I thought I wanted a boy.  I cried a lot.  So much, I may have scratched my retinas with the amount of saline leaking from my eyes.  I didn't want to eat.  I didn't want to see people or think about the wedding.  My depression reached an all time low.

Work was really cooperative and supportive.  I learned a lot of people I know had suffered the same or similar situations.  I know I was only pregnant for a little over a month, but that doesn't negate the fact that it was still a loss to me.  I know that some women in my situation may have chosen to abort the baby, which is their own choice.  It wasn't mine, even though I was terrified of being a mom.  I am lucky to have the family I do (both sides), Bear, and supportive friends.  I am lucky to have access to the internet and sites specifically intended for women who are going through what I was.  It helped so much to know I was not alone.

I decided to write this post, because there are a lot of women in the world who have experienced or will one day experience the pain and sorrow of losing a baby.  Everyone reacts differently, and no reaction is wrong.  Grief is unique to each of us. 

What really opened me up was this post by Hue of Hue and Hum.  I saw the painting and knew somehow what it meant before I read about it.  I even wrote her an email thanking her for sharing her work and the message with it.  I realized that if that post helped me feel less isolated, maybe writing about my experience will help someone else.

So, I apologize for the downer subject matter, but I hope that this will help someone feel less alone if they need it one day.

The good news is one day you will feel normal again.  I don't wake up every day thinking about the baby I almost had, although sometimes I do think about it.  I don't break down crying every time it comes up.  When people ask why we moved the wedding forward, we tell the truth.  I married my best friend and one day we will try again, when we are ready.  The baby did what it was supposed to do, I guess, in bringing Bear and I closer together.  We know we are strong enough to handle anything between us.  I look back and marvel at how supportive everyone was, how I was never really alone in the first place.  Of course, at the time it's easy to get lost in the emotion and feelings of failure.  But I didn't fail at anything.  It just happened.  And it's my job now to move on with my life and remember that it's okay to be happy again, and it's okay to talk about the miscarriage.  It helped to shape who I am today, but it does not define me.

There's always tomorrow, with great memories to make, and smiles to share.

xo

We Interrupt your Scheduled Posts...

...to bring confusion and panic.  An EARTHQUAKE?  On the East Coast?  Well, yes.  That appears to be what just happened.  I thought it was the workers on the roof banging around again, but then the walls started up the wave and the floor became a little seasick.  And it dawned on me.  It's a freaking earthquake!  So, I did the logical thing.  Ran around with my hands over my head freaking out.  Like a calm, rational human being.

Lesson learned.

In the event of an earthquake, don't be in a library!

I will do the conclusion of my adventures with Pig the owl tomorrow... and leave you with this teaser...



Stay safe out there!

xo

Photobomb Friday: Waves and Saves

So, Patchie and I went to the State Park I work at on Fridays for some photogeekery and chill time, while our menfolk hung out playing video games at  Bear's and my apartment (is that how you say that?  Grammar-wise?  Hmmm).  It was excellent: 80 degrees, breeze off the water, sunny but not TOO sunny, calm.  We even dipped our feet into the cold water... first splashes of spring and summer!  I plan on making more frequent trips come summer and later spring... we plan on visiting again next Wednesday, too!  For more of the story of my busy day yesterday, go here!

(Patchie, please don't hate me for posting all the silly face pictures... I just love them in a series!!!)  Then we went to PetCo.  Seriously, if you are looking for a test subject for photography... go to a local pet store and shoot without a flash.  It helps you learn a lot about metering and shutter speeds and aperture (and patience... those critters can be skittish and the fish can swing really, really fast)!

Also- little known fact: fish and birds weird me out.  I am not sure why.  BUT, I love owls and ravens and crows, seahorses and leafy sea dragons.  Not sure what that's all about...  I also want a chameleon one day.  So adorable.  I diiieee!

And these are my thrifty finds from this week!  I found snazzy shoes for Bear... and they fit perfectly!

Finally, here are this week's 365 Grateful photos!

Yup, I am grateful for Tic-Tac, the amazing cat that thinks he's a puppy!  Another grateful: I got the job I applied for!  I am a librarian again!  Hooray!  I am so very excited!

I also just realized, Bear and I are getting married in EXACTLY a year from today!  Oh my goodness, I have to get cracking on this planning nonsense!

Have a lovely weekend and a "Hoppy" Easter!  Ciao!

Silly Birds and Giveaways...

Last night I planned on being good and going to sleep early (which, for me, is anytime before midnight).  This plan failed epically.  First, as I was dozing off to a hilarious taped-from-TV-in-the-eighties-with-commercials version of Mary Poppins, I was roused by repetitive and frantic banging on the opposite side of the wall behind my head.  I figured some cats were having a competition on the porch and went to break it up, when I met this guy.

(The photo on the right is a little fuzzy, the guy was panicking and flying all over the place.  His beak is open a little because apparently a stressed out bird kinda pants a little.)  

I ran out to see what the commotion was, and Zia had him cornered.  I got her in the house, and he flew up right into my forehead... and it hurt A LOT.  I also have a ridiculous fear of birds... they kinda weird me out.  They are so active all the time, and erratic... and I like being able to guess what move is gonna happen next.  Birds don't let you do that, unless they are big birds of prey or something.  In which case, they aren't as panicked all the time.  And we humans rarely see them close up (excluding the zoo and RennFest).

Anyway, our porch is open; no screens, no windows or anything, so I figured he would realize he was cat free and fly off free.  No.  Wrong again.  He flew around the porch beating himself against every support post and overhang, the ceiling and ceiling fans.  My guess is the lights confused him, and he was afraid to venture out in the dark.  So I took advantage of this "nobody will ever believe this" situation and made sure to get some video.  In which Tic-Tac came up and cameoed, and Zia frantically tried to learn to open the door and put the little guy out of his misery.

Please excuse our porch mess (and shoddy film quality, it was cold and 2 am)... renovations indoors means a lot of things are relocated out.  Also, yes, that is a giant "tattooed" rubber ducky.  I used to have all visitors sign it.  :)

In other news, Patchie and Her Boy came over for dinner last night, which was a nice change of pace.  Lately, I have appreciated having people around me more often to distract me from brooding and feeling depressed.  We talked shop (aka theatre), a bit about Bobby, a little about the wedding, a lot about funny things.  It felt good to be able to talk about Bobby but not brood.  This is healing, right?  I also had a lovely conversation with Squeebie today, who is in my wedding party and currently lives in Kansas.  She always makes me laugh and we are getting married around the same time (ish... because we are both involved in each other's weddings we are doing a lot of check ins on planning), and she has a crazy love for her fur-baby Stanley the Dalmatian, which always makes me giggle.  What a pick-me-up!

To reward readers for putting up with my lower spirits as of late, I want to alert you all to some giveaways happening on other blogs!  Hope you win... or I do... haha.

* Pixie Mama has an adorable giveaway going on now!

* The Dainty Squid has a MungoCrafts giveaway on her blog!  Eep!

* A Beautiful Mess has a Houndstooth Dress giveaway now!!!

* Tatertots & Jello has a super cute giveaway, too!

The Adventures of Tic-Tac

Our cat Tic-Tac is an indoor/outdoor kitty (actually, they all are except for Cyn), and like the others he always comes home at the end of his day for food and water and a couch to loaf on.  On Monday morning, Bear let out the kitties that go out as usual.  I did some work around the house and waited for their return, as they often drop in and want out again midday.  Rummy and Zia came in for food and rest, but no Tic-Tac.  I told Rummy to find him and being him in that night.

Fast forward to today.  I still hadn't seen Tic-Tac since Sunday night, and Bear hadn't seen him since Monday morning.  I was really, really concerned because Tic-Tac ALWAYS comes back home every day.  It was really strange for him not to return, and I was beginning to fear the worst.  So I went out to look for him, trying to push the horrible thoughts out of my head.

I started by where he usually hangs out when he's out, by the shed and my car.  I called his name and heard mewing.  I should have thought about this... he very rarely makes sounds, he's a pretty quiet kitty, and I had no idea what he sounded like in distress.  Either way, I knew the mews weren't those of a content cat, and they came from inside the shed.  I had to move a bunch of stuff to get to the door, but when I opened it, no kitty was inside.  I looked up in my frustration and saw the air vent by the roof moving, like something was trying to push it out.  Low and behold, I caught a glimpse of the orange fur of my Tic-Tac.

I went through the backside of the shed and there he was, stuck up in the crossbeams.  Now, I always thought cats were good at jumping short distances, but mine seem to be confused.  He wouldn't jump, wouldn't climb down the levels that I created for him.  I finally pulled over a stool, climbed up, coaxed him over to me, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him down.  I got scratched in the process, but as soon as he was cradled in my arms he began to purr.

Now he's up on the couch, sleeping soundly, snoring his little kitty snores.  At least he's stopped wolfing down all the kibble... I was starting to think he would make himself sick (although I don't doubt he was hungry!).