I’m Not Pregnant. . .Anymore.
Do you ever feel as though you aren’t actually living your life, but are standing on the sidelines, observing some poor sap in a pathetic B movie? You watch her trudging along, making the dinner, changing a diaper, cracking wise in a brief chat with her husband- but it doesn’t seem quite real in a “I am here, living this; this is me” kind of way.
Instead, your propensity to overanalyze and read deeply into the symbolism and hidden meaning in the mundanity separates you from yourself, creating at once a protective barrier and a harsh critic ready to pounce on and ridicule every misstep or moment of flat out bad drama. This is how my brain works. At times, it is a godsend, helping me to find humor in otherwise crumby moments; but in other times, this handicap makes me question my feelings and experiences, calling attention to my own brilliance or woeful lack thereof.
Thus it has been with the past few days. Last Monday I was pregnant, sort of.
After a few weeks of persistent pregnancy symptoms, and the notable lack of my menses, I went in for a quick blood test that I was certain would result in a positive. Instead it resulted in an “inconclusive”. The word plagued my thoughts. I moved through my usual routine, but every act was punctuated with a bold faced, all caps, INCONCLUSIVE hanging over my head. Empty the dishwasher: INCONCLUSIVE. Make the bed: INCONCLUSIVE. Take a shower: INCONCLUSIVE. What did that mean, anyway? After all, you are either pregnant or not, right? Wrong.
I retested three days later. The chipper nurse called me on the phone to let me know that once again, much to everyone’s surprise, my results were the same. This optimistic woman told me to return again in a few days. What she wasn’t saying, and what was painfully obvious to me was that something here was not right. Hormone levels not making significant changes in the early days of a pregnancy are not a good sign of a viable pregnancy.
It seemed that I was smack in the middle of three challenging outcomes.
1: I’m pregnant and the tests are just plain wonky.
2: I am waiting to miscarry a pregnancy that didn’t make it past the first five weeks.
3: I have an etopic pregnancy and my fallopian tube is about to rupture.
Frankly, not a one was overwhelmingly appealing. That may sound a bit harsh, as one is a baby, but in all honestly, this wasn’t planned. Now, I could pull a rabbit out of a hat and make the best of an unexpected situation. I could see benefits to the timing that was not my own. I would like to have another child, someday, maybe even someday fairly soon, and I could make this work out and be great.
However, my pregnancies involve 6 months of hyperemesis that leave me dependant on $40 a pill medications and intravenous fluids, followed by two months of bed rest due to preterm labor, finally culminating in a premature birth, that although healthy thus far, scares the daylights out of me. For me to be pregnant is to have to check out of life for roughly 8 months. I can’t cook. I can’t work. I can’t care for my children the way they deserve to be cared for. Having that sprung upon you is pretty overwhelming. Not to mention that if you can survive the pregnancy you still have to survive motherhood.
The other two options were certainly not easy ways out. Both are painful and are a loss. Both can create fertility problems in the future. They are confusing and overwhelming; a genetic betrayal that most people can’t help but blame themselves for at least a little, even when science and reason can explain with undeniable logic the hard fact that some life just doesn’t last that long. That sometimes a confused little ball of cells just doesn’t become what it started out to be. That, genetically speaking, every baby is a miracle because it takes a heck of a lot of things lined up with perfection to create life, and there isn’t a whole lot a mother can do to control that either way.
I was looking at genetic Russian Roulette.
Because I have an unshakable knowledge that my Father in Heaven knows me, and knows what is best for me, and will always give me the strength I require to move through life’s challenges if I am meek enough to receive it, I stopped worrying about it, got on my knees and gave it to Him. It is both humbling and powerful to be in a situation where you honestly say, “Thy will be done,” and mean it sincerely. I usually know what I want, and I ask for it, then I’m grouchy when the Lord, in His infinite wisdom, denies me what I want so He can give me something better that He has in store.
Hindsight being 20/20, I can look back and clearly see God’s hand in every step of my life. I can see where He has always led me to what is best, even in times of huge trial, where I cannot see the light. He is there drawing me near to Him and giving me strength to bear far more than I ever thought myself capable. So, in faith, I told Him that it was ok. That I was ready to bear whatever was going to be best for me, if He would just give me the strength to do it. And, as always, He did. I was calmed, and prepared.
Sunday morning we attended church and after the first meeting I went to the ladies room without giving things much thought only to discover that I had begun to miscarry. Even totally expecting it after two days of cramping, the blood came as a shock. This being my first experience with miscarriage, I quickly thought to seek out a friend who is a nurse. I was lucky as she entered the ladies room just as I was heading out the door to locate her. She was able to give me some basic advice, and I went to find my husband.
Now, our church is a bustling baby making machine, and I have got to say that being in the beginning of a miscarriage and having to pass by about fifteen gorgeous, chubby, bright eyed babies is at once painful and surreal. These darlings brought what was happening into pretty sharp focus. There would be no baby, and the fact stung.
I asked Chris to come out to the car so I could explain what was going on. I had opted not to let him know that I was pregnant until I knew if it was a viable pregnancy, so I know it came as a bit of a shock, but he was supportive and sweet, as always.
I made it through the rest of church before the cramping became severe. After a few hours of intensifying discomfort at home, I went in to the ER where they confirmed what was going on and made sure everything seemed to be progressing naturally as it should.
The first day I was kind of in shock. Oh I cried for a bit in the ladies room, then told my stoic Norwegian self to pull it together so I could go through the motions of the rest of the day. A calm settled over me, and I understood that what was happening was ok. It was what was needed right now, even if it was unpleasant and not something I would have chosen for myself. I got through the long wait at the ER with a measure of peace, but really, I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel about all of this. I knew how I would have felt had this happened when I was carrying Jonas or Maggie. I would have been devastated. From the moment of their conceptions I felt like I was their mom, and I was so attached. This pregnancy never seemed real; it was as if a part of me had known that this was nothing more than a blip on the radar, a small bundle of cells about to jump ship long before they could become anything as beautiful as a child.
I felt guilty for not feeling terrible, and then I felt terrible about feeling guilty. I worried that I had somehow caused this, as illogical as that was, and even worse, I worried that perhaps I wasn’t a good enough mother to be trusted with another child, so I was being denied. Reasonably, I was able to look at that untruth and think of all of the children born to truly horrible parents, and understand that this scenario simply didn’t add up. I worried about having this happen again, but having it happen when I was elated to be carrying child and having it leave me heartbroken. I worried that I wasn’t feeling the way I should be feeling, but reminded myself that my feelings, whatever they are right now, are valid and I’m entitled to feel that way.
Now, all that is left to do is ride it out, recover from the physical strain and the exhausting emotional upheaval. I’m doing the best I can.
Oh goodness, such an emotional ordeal, planned or not. My thoughts are with you, L!
Comment by Amie — August 28, 2007 @ 9:52 pm
I’m so sorry! I’ve been there, too.
Comment by Mom2Six — August 28, 2007 @ 10:59 pm
Oh, I’m so sorry. I came to share a great cloth diaper give-away on my blog, but see this sad news. Now it doesn’t seem all that important.
I have had several miscarraiges. They are never easy, even if you only knew for less than 24 hours.
The heartache does dull eventually. Trust in God is so important, because seeing the picture down the road may even clue you in to why it happened.
For a friend of mine, who always has premies, God used the miscarraige as a way for her new doctors to find her blood pressure problems before she gets pregnant again, so she will go into pregnancy with normal pressure and a close watch on her health.
I also get sick like you. Thankfully it only lasts for the first trimester for me in all except the last pregnancy. And I only had preterm labor with 2 babes. No premies, even with losing a twin in one and constant labor through the pregnancy, and my water breaking at 31 weeks the other, but resealing!
I’m really sorry for your loss.
Comment by Qtpies7 — August 28, 2007 @ 11:26 pm
I am here for you, and I’m thinking of you.
Comment by Zarah — August 29, 2007 @ 12:11 am
Leah,, I am so sorry for your loss.. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.
linda
Comment by linda — August 29, 2007 @ 4:53 am
Just want you to know I think your are a wonderfuly faithful and strong woman. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Comment by Bonnie B — August 29, 2007 @ 6:26 am
Even if you weren’t planning it, and the baby doesn’t seem real, I know that it can feel like a part of you was literally torn away, but there is no loving little one at the end of it like there is with a pregnancy. Please take care of yourself and give your kids extra love. Believe me, it helps.
Comment by Ellie — August 29, 2007 @ 8:31 am
I will be thinking of you and your family is in my prayers
Comment by Annette — August 29, 2007 @ 9:21 am
(((HUGS)))
Comment by scrappydeb — August 29, 2007 @ 9:27 am
Leah i have been there to. I was about as far as you were. Even though i was not far along it still hurts in side.
My pain did subside after a while. Im sorry you are going through this and i hope that you will soon find peace x
Comment by Wendy — August 29, 2007 @ 9:37 am
my heart goes out to you my sweets…you’re in my thoughts…
Comment by Nicole Harper — August 29, 2007 @ 9:39 am
Leah,
You are such an amazing woman! You have wonderful descriptive writing skills. I apprectiate the openess you share your life with us. You do it so well I feel I know you as I do a close friend. So, I wish I could give you a big hug right now. I think it’s great you understand that in grief any emotion is a valid one. I will keep you in my prayers.
Comment by Dina — August 29, 2007 @ 10:42 am
Oh Leah, what a whole lot of emotions and thoughts to go through you poor mind in such a short period of time!! I totally agree that in hindsight, I can see God’s hand guiding me through life.
I miscarried at 6 weeks before getting pregnant with Philippe. You bet you are entitled to feel whatever way you feel!! Big big HUGS!!
Cara
Comment by Cara — August 29, 2007 @ 10:52 am
So sorry for you Leah but totally understand your mixed feelings - I suffered what’s medically termed “blighted ovum” last year. This means that the pregnancy (although I was into its third month) is not viable; in my case, the buddle of cells had ceased to live at some point during the three months yet the body carries on unawares with all the usual pregnancy symptoms, or as my son later explained it to himself, the body has a classic “D’oh” moment! I can totally understand the wierd feelings, I felt I was pregnant yet deep down, in some subconscious capacity, I just KNEW something was wrong, it’s the wierdest thing in the world, huh! Anyways, I’m glad you find strengh in your faith to get through these trying times, all the best, Lisa (the librarian) x
Comment by Lisa — August 29, 2007 @ 11:04 am
(((hugs))) & tears for you, i’v been though mis-carrage so im here for you if you want to talk.
Comment by sarah — August 29, 2007 @ 12:40 pm
This was sensitively and bravely written. Take time to grieve the loss and heal. Your family and friends will help, especially those two sweet cherubs at the top of this page.
Comment by the Mater — August 29, 2007 @ 1:29 pm
My thoughts and prayers are with you… I’m so sorry to hear of your sad news.
Mona
Comment by Mona — August 29, 2007 @ 7:05 pm
XOXO…love you. :[
Comment by Cori — August 29, 2007 @ 10:49 pm
Sorry to hear about your loss. Miscarriage is difficult, no matter what. Have faith, take comfort in Him.
Comment by Lee W — August 30, 2007 @ 3:16 pm
Oh Leah…. I’m so sorry. It’s a terrible thing to go through I know and my thoughts are with you.
Comment by tj — August 31, 2007 @ 4:52 am
SO sorry for your loss, sorry I haven’t posted in a while but I’ve been reading your blog consistently and I LOVED the POOR CINDERELLI!!
Hang in there, my favorite saying is “If God brought you to it HE will get you through it”
Joni
Comment by Joni Kuehl — August 31, 2007 @ 8:12 am
My heart goes out to you & Chris, Leah! Big hugs and wishing you strength to get through this emotional time.
Comment by Monica — August 31, 2007 @ 2:07 pm
Oh Leah, I am so sorry. No matter what the circumstances, planned or not, a m/c is never a pleasant experience……..been there, done that, twice. I wish you the best. Keep your chin up.
Comment by dawn — August 31, 2007 @ 5:19 pm
So sorry leah, sometimes things are just not explainable and you feel so lost, just hug your kiddos even tighter and love on them.I have been there also,God has his reasons i am sure and its always what he thinks is best even if we dont think so.
Comment by Maggie — August 31, 2007 @ 5:40 pm
God bless you and keep you and cause His face to shine upon you. Many prayers are sent your way.
Comment by Feenie — September 1, 2007 @ 5:34 am
I’m sorry you’ve gone through this, it sounds horrible.
Comment by Sarah — September 1, 2007 @ 11:01 am
Leah, I came across your story this morning at the most opportune time. I got my period today after truly believing that I was experience early pregnancy symptoms. I don’t have any children, I am 42 and got married for the first time 18 months ago. My husband and I have been trying for only about 3 months. We so want a child, but our lives have been a bit “unstable” for a while with career problems and illness (my husband.) I met my husband when I was 40. Before that I also questioned Him and why it was so difficult for me to meet anyone. I had many a heartache and didn’t always trust that He had a plan for me, u ntil I met my husband, and it all made sense. He wanted me to appreaciate my husband. This was the man I was meant to marry. I guess I have to trust in Him now more than ever. Of course time is not on our side in this, but I am asking Him to help me accept whatever is meant to be. I used to ask Him; “If I am not meant to every marry, then please help me accept it.” Since I couldn’t accept it, I guess this is why I had to wait to meet the man of my dreams. Now I am asking Him to help me accept whatever comes of our wanting a child. If we are not meant to be parents, I need Him to help me to accept this. But, if we are, then He will decided what’s best as far as timing. I am sad as I write this, though. I was so convinced that I had conceived. I felt a lot of typical symptoms, etc and even if it was early, I still feel like I lost something this day. But, I will pray that He will give me the strength to move on and we can try again next month.
Thank you, Leah for bringing this story to my life when I needed it more than ever!
Comment by Laur — September 10, 2007 @ 3:51 am
Lou, I’m so sorry. So much of what you wrote there was similar to my experience when I discovered I was unexpectedly pregnant when James was only 13 months old. I didn’t immediately bond with the baby, I had doubts that I’d be able to cope - both with the pregnancy, which like yours, is always a struggle, or with the baby, and then when it ended, I felt that maybe it was somehow my fault. But it wasn’t. And it isn’t your fault. Thinking of you and praying.
Love, Janine
Comment by Janine — September 19, 2007 @ 11:29 am
Lou,
I realize this is an old post, and I don’t know you, but I can identify. I lost a baby at 12 weeks. It was a planned pregnancy, and the process of the miscarriage itself was very painful. However from the very moment I lost the baby, I had peace about the loss. I have total trust in the sovereignty of God and I knew immediately that He ultimately was in control of my life. That little life left a legacy behind even though it never graced the earth. You are the one who gets to decide what that legacy is. Even if it is as simple as, it drew you closer to God, or to your husband, or a good friend.
Comment by Shannon — December 6, 2007 @ 11:41 pm