Most days I am good. But some days it can get to me... even when life is awesome in so many ways.
Comfortably numb
Thump, thump, thump, thump.. rasp, breathe, rasp, breathe.. The rhythmic sound of my feet pounding the pavement in combination with my laboured breathing is a comfort. I have missed this more than I can really express. Only a couple of short weeks ago, I was cleared by the doctor to run and exercise again after being trapped without exercise. Threatened as being only 1 or 2 steps off complete bed rest for an excruciating three months. More on that in a minute.. As I've said many times, running provides therapy for my soul in a way that nothing else can. I can say the words about how I'm feeling, I can write down my emotions, but nothing helps me to process what I am feeling like when I'm exerting myself physically. I know myself well enough to know that one of my defensive mechanisms that I use to protect myself when I'm having a tough time is to distance myself from strong emotions. To create a bubble of numbness. Although that gets me through in the short term, my challenge is learning how to crawl back out of the bubble, as I know all too well how damaging it can be to stay in there too long. When I run, especially as unfit & overweight as I currently am, which increases the pain and discomfort of running itself, I am forced to feel something, and I dont feel numb. It appears to be one of the only times that I can acknowledge emotional pain and allow the tears to roll without fighting them back.
Well here goes a depressing post... I realise that it might seem like a downward spike following my previously happy and loved up post about our recent wedding. Originally, I did not want to post something like this, as I prefer the positive posts a hell of a lot more, however I need to get these things out of my head and heart, a kind of written outlet...
So, nearly 3 weeks before our wedding, I had a miscarriage. This time I had made it 11 weeks into the first trimester before investigation at the hospital about some spotting turned out to be bad news. This was then closely followed by the trauma of miscarrying later that night and ending up urgently back in hospital for an excruciating and heartbreaking 24 hours, suffering from blood loss and dangerously high dehydration and blood pressure. That brings my total pregnancy losses to 4. Unfortunately this puts me within the membership of the recurrent miscarriage club, not a club that anyone wants to be a part of. It also generates a response of sympathy from even the most hardened of midwives and nurses at the women's hospital, those who deal with loss every day. Simply, it sucks. We are booked to attend a specialist miscarriage unit in the coming weeks to attempt to get some answers and to get whatever help, if anything, that may be done to get me past that dreaded 1st trimester. We are in good hands at least, the specialists and medical staff at Mercy Hospital have been amazing. With my rheumatoid arthritis putting me within the world of autoimmune disease & its side effects, which can have a negative effect on fertility and miscarriage risk, this appears to be one of the likely culprits for my losses. At this stage anyway. We will hopefully know more in the near future. For now the focus is on healing emotionally & physically. Our wedding has been a shining beacon of light and happiness in an otherwise troubled time. We had hoped to be able to announce our pregnancy at the wedding reception (I would have been 14 weeks by then) and we went to great lengths to hide the pregnancy in the meantime. Unfortunately gods plan had other ideas and we were forced to accept that this time just wasn't meant to be.
In a strange way it gets abit easier to cope when something like this happens when you have become familiar with its occurrence. It definitely affects your outlook and excitement when you are actually lucky enough to fall pregnant, as it deems it merely another hopeful roll of the dice rather than news that a baby is definitely on its way. Anyone who has suffered a miscarriage would be able to relate to the sense of trepidation that any future pregnancies brings out. You want to celebrate it, be optimistic and to be able to relax & enjoy the pregnancy, yet it is impossible to ignore the reality that you are always a chance not to reach your expected due date. Sometimes your body tells you that something is wrong and it becomes obvious very quickly, sometimes your body fights to protect the pregnancy even though it is a lost cause and only a scan reveals the truth. I have suffered both sides of the equation at various stages of the 1st trimester, and I think they are all as bad as each other. Having said that, this one was particularly traumatic, not so much because of the miscarriage itself, although that was definitely gut wrenching, but more so because my own physical health was at such great risk. I was dangerously close to needing emergency surgery, fighting just to stay conscious and battle the pain thanks to severe blood loss, a complication with passing the tissue and extreme dehydration. It was scarier than I had experienced before. It took me a good week at home once I was out of hospital to begin to even feel human again. Thank goodness for my Al. He never left my side, even during some pretty unpleasant and hairy moments at the hospital, and then spending time at home with me to look after me. Thank goodness for DVDs of Game of Thrones, Season 1-3 for getting us through that week as well. We are now officially addicted to that show..
Bad news does not travel as fast as good news..
In the lead up to the miscarriage, I had actually written about the wait and uncertainty during the 1st trimester to help myself deal with it. I almost believe that the anguish during this time is worse, as you are in a yo-yo battle with yourself and there is so much unknown and WAITING. At least you have an answer, albeit not the one you were after, following an actual pregnancy loss.
"In case the fear of another miscarriage was not scary enough, considering my history of multiple losses, the addition of brown spotting for 1-2 weeks since I have hit the 9 weeks pregnant mark, is threatening to tip me over the edge. Despite all the best intended advice from professionals and much wasted time on Google, attempting to reassure me that unless I see bright red blood and also get cramping pain, I am probably ok, it is no good, it is all consuming. At a time when I am so close to the end of my 1st trimester and hoping to shortly make a happy announcement, the threat of miscarriage hanging over my head has instead become a tough battle of self distraction and stifling of negativity.
It is particularly tough when hardly anyone actually knows
that I am pregnant to start with, so I must face daily life with a mask of
feigned happiness and positive energy. Frankly it has been exhausting. I call
it ‘game-face’. The face that the world sees that hopefully cannot see the
turmoil going on behind my forced smile.
The physicality of pregnancy means that despite whatever
else is going on around you, there is always a constant background or ‘buzzing
awareness’ of being pregnant. It can be a cause for contentment and happiness,
but at times like this it becomes a source of unrest and doubt.
I feel as though I am living inside my own head so much, at times I’m
not even sure whether I have said things out loud or within my mind.
I am actively avoiding social contact, purely because it is too tiring to fake
upbeat energy, especially with my new work colleagues who I do not know very
well yet. I’m abit relieved that Im not around a lot of people who know me well, yet
it also makes the loneliness of this experience more acute. Initially I was
aiming to ‘lie low’ more to minimise people’s suspicions, as more recently over
the last 3 months I have started to show some outward signs of pregnancy
already. A rounder face, bad skin, looking and feeling exceptionally tired,
obviously have put on weight, weird aversions and cravings to food and just not acting my
usual self.
The other difficulty when trying to hide early pregnancy, is
trying to also hide not drinking alcohol. I am a girl who loves a beer and is
not known to turn down an alcoholic beverage when it is offered to me. This has
caused some interesting scenarios and super sneaky work between me and Al to
lead people into assuming that I am drinking when I really am not. This has
included the usual tricks of holding one drink and pretending to sip from it
for uncomfortably long periods of time, finding small opportunities to tip some
out or to swap with Al, who has then ended up having to drink more than his
fair share to lower both his and mine drink levels. Our favourite has
definitely been the substitution of soft drink into bottles of alcohol and recapping them so they look unopened. This has got me through
BYO alcohol events including a hens night and a couple of bbq’s. Not only does
it look the same, but it tastes almost identical too. It is also a very expensive way to drink soft drink though.
So during all this has been numerous doctor appointments, blood
tests, a scan or two, and now direct referral into the specialist part of Mercy
women’s hospital, that deals with high risk pregnancy and higher antenatal monitoring of their patients. I seem to be in good hands and they will definitely do all that they
can to help me with whatever they can control in my plight to become a mother.
The waiting is excruciating. Time is definitely not flying
this year. Time is crawling along at a distinctively slow pace and each day
that I don’t begin to miscarry becomes a small step forward. I know the positive
sides even if we do, the ‘at least I know that we can conceive’, ‘chances are that the next
pregnancy will be successful’, ‘from now on you will get specialist medical
care’.. etc..etc. Yes these are all positives, but the harsh reality is that it
is a LONG road, filled with mountainous ups and downs, the uncertainty of
whether it is ever going to be possible to get through a pregnancy, no amount
of positivity can kill the doubt that multiple false starts creates.
Being at the mercy of something so completely out of your
control is frustrating. You become a prisoner of your own body and you become
unsure of any different feelings, sensations, movements or pains that happen.
It sucks. You scrawl the internet for good news stories of cases where the
symptoms mimic your own, and inadvertently find more that don’t end well. After a miscarriage, weird things sometimes affect you. You
stare at the women walking around shopping centres with babies or young
children and you crave to be able to do that. You attend 1st birthdays, christenings, new baby arrivals, and baby showers, happily at the time, genuinely enthusiastic and in celebration for those around you having their milestones and families started or added to, but then fight back tears on the way home and beat yourself up for feeling sorry for yourself. You are a part of many conversations that centre around children and babies, parenting and things related to being a mother, especially at my age when alot of women have had babies or are having them. Although you contribute a little in theory, love hearing about the little ones, and sometimes feel like taking notes on the many tips and things you can learn from these convo's for when it is finally your turn, sometimes it still leaves you with an unshakable feeling of being an outsider. You are often acutely aware that you are definitely not a member of the motherhood club that seems to create an understanding and a bond between all its members that you know you cannot understand or pretend to be a part of.
Having been threatened with complete bed rest if I didn’t take it easy, there has been no exercise allowed, no exertion, minimal time on feet where possible and maximum quiet time. Time drags. You are painfully aware how boring you have become. Not willing to head out for fun with friends or family, avoiding social stuff, and not being able to be a part of anything your partner would normally have you at. Then, in case you weren’t emotional enough, you start to worry about how boring and difficult you are making daily life for your partner. This is of course on top of feeling unattractive and ill and hoping that you regain your energy and some level of attractiveness before your partner totally forgets how good times used to be. Yep, level of mind torture really steps up a notch amongst the emotional and hormonal rollercoaster ride that you are riding."
Having been threatened with complete bed rest if I didn’t take it easy, there has been no exercise allowed, no exertion, minimal time on feet where possible and maximum quiet time. Time drags. You are painfully aware how boring you have become. Not willing to head out for fun with friends or family, avoiding social stuff, and not being able to be a part of anything your partner would normally have you at. Then, in case you weren’t emotional enough, you start to worry about how boring and difficult you are making daily life for your partner. This is of course on top of feeling unattractive and ill and hoping that you regain your energy and some level of attractiveness before your partner totally forgets how good times used to be. Yep, level of mind torture really steps up a notch amongst the emotional and hormonal rollercoaster ride that you are riding."
Instinctively Aware
When I re-read this post before I considered posting it, it makes me realise just how much my instinct had already told me I was going to lose this pregnancy. More than I even recognised during the time that I actually wrote it. I just 'knew'. This instinct is no joke. I think I can almost completely pinpoint the difference I feel when a pregnancy is thriving and when it isn't, regardless of what my symptoms are or are not telling me. I have no idea whether this is helpful or not.
I think it really didn't hit me until about a week later. I had been ok throughout the previous week, reasonably philosophical and fairly positive. Too ok. One night Al's 11 month old niece was staying overnight and he had been giving her a bottle before they both fell asleep together on the couch. It was utterly adorable and filled me with love, as it often does whenever I see my husband with children. I thought how amazing a dad he would make. As I gently lifted her from his arms and put her down to sleep for the night in the cot, something triggered within me. That small act of babysitting/parenting together seemed to raise to the surface the grief and sadness that had been lurking just beneath it, well hidden but threatening to bring me undone. I quickly excused myself to the bathroom to 'have a shower', as soon as I shut the door I sat on the floor and cried my heart out. I didn't think I was ever going to get back up off the floor. It was that type of intensity that renders you silent and inwardly in pain, the sobbing didn't even have a noise. I slowly pulled myself together, stood up and stood underneath the shower for an unmeasured amount of time, hoping the water would somehow wash away the grief and despair down that plug hole. It was needed. It was cathartic and it was healthier than locking those feelings inside.
I also had a couple of moments of shakiness during the wedding when I felt an immense sadness wash over me that we were not going to be announcing the news that we so desperately hope for. Fortunately the wedding was such a celebration of love and the amazing things that we do have, that it has helped immensely with the healing process.
I apologise to anyone that finds this post difficult to read, or tedious at best. I am frustrated at how hidden these experiences often are for people. Miscarriage creates such helplessness, frustration, sorrow and isolation. It creates emptiness and loneliness that even a strong support group of love and help cannot relieve. So why do so many couples/women have to suffer in silence? I am a person who lives out loud. My life is pretty much an open book. If anything I write can help someone relate, feel better, or less alone about their own experience, then that is a bonus that I hope for. The selfish truth is that it makes me feel better. I recognise that it is often very hard on the people around you when you go through something like this too. They often don't know what to say, or feel helpless themselves that they cannot help, its uncomfortable. I believe these reasons can sometimes help drive it underground too. I myself wanted to be the bearer of only good news in our announcement. Not the recipient of pity, of sympathy, and of sadness. Especially at the wedding, it was easier to not have to face a crowd of people feeling pain for you, instead most were blissfully unaware and there for celebration and happy promises that we will one day have children together now that we are married.
We hope so. I can promise that we will do everything we can to get there anyway. So fingers and toes crossed, and I strap myself in for all that lies ahead.
