I am unsure.

I have a large family. My mother’s parents had six children, 19 grandchildren, 46 great grandchildren and … There are a lot. My father has seven siblings … I am not going to try and count that bunch, but there are a few. Now, my momma has been married four times so there’s that group of siblings, half-siblings, step-siblings and so forth. Today I am going share with you what my family is going through so you can get some of what is making me so uneasy. 

We’ll start with the sister first. Our parents married when I was four and Marie was eight. They were married over 24 years, so we’re family. About four years ago Marie met a nice guy, they got engaged and moved far away. She is happy. 

Next we will talk about my cousin JZ. There were four of us born around the same time, so growing up we were super close. Every adventure, good, bad and stupid we were together. Two girls and two boys. They referred to us as the brat pack. Just about every memory I have growing up has atleast one of the other three in it.

Hanging out with family, one of my nieces mentioned that Marie was coming to town for a visit. They all chipped in to fly here back for the surprise. Silly me, I asked what the surprise was. A baby shower. Silly me again, I ask for who. Marie. 

I am busy doing laundry and cleaning when I noticed that the answering machine had eight messages​. All from my mom. I sit down, take a drink of water and call her back. I talk to her just about every day, but the tone of her voice worried me. 

My youngest sister asked if she was getting a invitation or was she just going to see pictures on social media after. They all laugh. No one actually answered. 

When my mom finally gets me on the phone, the first thing she asked was if I am sitting down. Now I am scared. She starts telling me that this morning at work JZ collapsed​. They call 911 and got him to the hospital but they could not revive him. He had a fatal heart attack. 

I could’t breathe. 

He was 34. Far too young. A single parent with four daughters. A beautiful woman in his life. They just got engaged and bought a house. JZ was the best kind of people. A broken heart doesn’t seem to start to describe how we all feel. His mother is destroyed. He was her baby. 

I can not tell you about the stupid conversations​ I have had this week. No, I WILL not.  I have spent the last few days keeping busy. I have to to keep from crying. All I know is that this roller coaster is rough. 

One of my oldest and best friends has died. My older sister is pregnant and due just before I was. This week we are driving a lot of miles. On Saturday we are going to a funeral. Each of our heartache coming together to celebrate a life that has left his mark on every person that he met, knew and loved. Sunday, a celebration of a new life. 

I don’t think I can do it. Go to her baby shower. I wasn’t invited. More than that, I am doing a little better but not sure if I am good enough for that. Adding up the miscarriage and funeral, I don’t think I can take it. I can only fake smile so much. Right now, I am not sure what my breaking point might be. Can not say that I have not already reached it. 

I will let you know about everything when we are back. Send me warm thoughts, good wishes and prayers. I need all the help I can get right now. 

I am still floating.

This past week has been a rough one.

I am not sure if I will ever get back to the old me. I hope that I can at-least begin to resymbol the person I used to be. A friend told me that I will be different, that this has changed me whether I wanted it to or not. Just try not to lose the parts that make you shine. I don’t know how to do that.

A few months ago I was excited to celebrate my first of many Mother’s Day. It was tough to do anything this year. I was a good daughter, daughter in law and grand daughter and sent out cards. Didn’t make any calls. I was brokenhearted when my brother called me for some phone numbers …. he was calling everyone to tell the happy mother’s day.

Just not me.

That stupid doctor that is having me take pregnancy test every three days to watch my hcg levels go down was evil. I was meant to test that Sunday but my soul couldn’t handle going through all of that. Unwrapping a test, following instructions I know by heart HOPING for it only to show one line. Negative is what you want.

NO, IT IS NOT!!!

Stayed off line all day. Didn’t watch a minute of tv. Couldn’t leave the house. Babies where everywhere. It hurt to see all those babies and know that I can never hold mine in my arms.

I am sick of feeling this way. I hate being so broken. IT has been tough, trying yo get back to the old me. The most positive thing I can say is that life is starting to get back on track. This week is the first time in a long time where I have cooked real food OR that I have taken my meds when I am suppose to. Even took the trash out.

Don’t get too excited. I wore my fuzzy pajama’s out there. I don’t care who could of seen them. Mostly because there are important things in life and what someone is wearing isn’t one of them.

I am floating by.

17 days.

That is how long ago my precious gift of a pregnancy ended. When my heart shattered into a million pieces.

Did I mention that I don’t like that doctor? Sure, it’s common for him to deal with this kind of thing daily BUT NOT ME! He tells me that it will take a week to four months for my hormones to return to a regular number. I can come in every three days for blood work, after the damage you did to my arms last time!? I still have lots of bruises, so no. OR just buy some cheap pregnancy test. When they show a negative, I am starting into the reset process.

:::sigh:::

Having seen that I am a mess, and that this is hard on me, why would you suggest that?? Tell a woman who had just lost her baby the take test HOPING for a negative? For seven years I have seen hundreds of them!! My life changed the moment it was positive. And it is changing again.

Him wanting me to do this isn’t making anything easier. My body still thinks I am pregnant. I have to pee all the time, am constantly starving, feet swelling and sore breast just make everything else harder.

I have mentioned how great my hubby has been. Lately, he has been hinting and asking questions like ‘When do you want to start trying again?’ HMMMM, let me think. 17 days ago I went through one of the hardest events I have ever experienced. My body thinks I am almost four months pregnant, my doctor is an idiot and you want to know when I want to lay down with you again hoping for that rainbow baby like next month?! I need to grieve the child we just lost. I need to mourn for the hopes and dreams we had for that sweet angel that we never got to hold. I need to be sad for the child my husband never got to spoil. I need to let my heart heal from this unimaginable and indescribably powerful moment and pain. I need to heal. Not just physically, emotionally and spiritually; more then I could ever explain. I am broken right now.

I should mention that it has been 17 days since I have slept. My body and brain will not agree on when would be a good time for that, so I do get much. A nap here and there, no more than a few hours at a time. I went to bed at 10 pm last night, was up at 12:20 am and have been awake ever sense. Tried some melatonin and a sleep aid, not working. I hate thinking that if I ever want to sleep again I will have to become a pill popper. BUT  I also hate all the hours I have spent sitting in the dark, thinking. The roller coaster that is my brain is getting exhausting. I am sure a good sleep would help. I miss sleep.

I am going to start dinner, Wifely duties never cease.

To be continued…

I am amused.

JPsteel

I am going to tell you a cute little story about my Granny. She has been sick. You know the elderly are not feeling well when they want to go to the ER.

When she got home, my Uncle (her oldest child) called to check on her. She lets him know that they gave her a few prescriptions. No pneumonia. She was given the OK to head home, see her PCP ASAP. OH, and that she has Herpes.

This is where the questions start:

“What??!”

‘I have some sores in my nose and mouth.’

‘Huh?’

‘The doctor let me know that herpes is spread from people that don’t wash there hands OR from oral and anal sex.’

‘Where would you have been exposed?’

‘The park on Easter.’

‘Huh?’

‘I sat on a bench. Somebody must have had oral and anal sex on that bench.’

‘Well, crap. I guess we need to take bleach whips with us the next time we go to the park. No saying where people are having sex.’

 

I am concerned. Over lots to areas of the conversation. Why would a doctor tell my 83 year old grandmother that the cold sores she had were herpes OR why my sweet 65 year old uncle didn’t know any better. Getting cold sores in your nose from anal sex on a park bench is like slipping on a toilet seat and getting p

I am unprepared.

I feel like a ship right now. 

Like I am lost at sea. 

Right in the middle of a storm. 

Currently in radio silence. I have no idea what lies ahead. Unsure if I am still on course. Not knowing if I have been through the worst of the storm yet or if there are rough seas ahead. 

I have sent out S.O.S.’s but I don’t know if anyone has heard them. 

My ship has been damaged​. I’m not sure how much more it can take. Hope that it can get me home. 

In the distance I see a break in the clouds. A small beam of light breaks through the storm clouds. Unsure how much further I will have to endure the rough waters to reach the sun. Hopeful that I can get there soon and in one piece. 

My crew is small. They are trying very hard to get me back. Feeling EVERYTHING that I am going through, they have been working hard to get us all there. I don’t think I can make it back safely without all of the hard work they have done. I have an incredible crew. 

I am hopeful. 

And terrified. 

I am scared.

It has been a week, one whole week. I don’t know how to feel right now for seven years my only thought our only goal was to finally grow our family, have a child of our own. Out of the blue a gift from above our answer was finally a yes. Return back to that day when my sweet brother in law passed away and the hardest thing about that was the look on my husband’s face it was a look I will never be able to forget and now I think of that day when I told him I was pregnant that we were finally going to be a family of three and I now have a new memory of me priceless look on his face at that moment.

And right now sitting here reading everything I can read amount miscarriage and D&C pregnancy every little detail about how your life is going to be different physically how your body reacts to such a trauma and I am terrified. I don’t know how long it takes mentally to wrap your head around the whole idea I’m trying to have a baby again because this is a heartache and a heartbreak that I do not know how to live with. I don’t want to be mean I don’t want to be standoffish I don’t want to be grouchy they really don’t want to be sad, but I don’t know how not to be any of those things.

I think because of this I have been closed off. I have been on total radio silence. I don’t answer the phone I don’t return emails don’t socialize I don’t make chitchat with the lady at the grocery store I just want to be left alone. Im completely dreading going to my doctor’s appointment, and seen all of those pregnant wome, some with small children, some ready to deliver in any minute. I am excited for them but again I am heartbroken because for a few moments I was one of them and now I’m a statistic.

I have a wonderful husband and he has been so sweet like always incredibly caring and compassionate and beyond tender, but the thought of being intimate with him right now brings up so many different feelings and emotions. I’ll just described it the best way I can. I feel like it’s too soon to be moving on I know how much I love this baby and I know how bad he’s hurting because of the lost, nuts maybe having a little break wouldn’t be a bad idea. I know for all of these years that we’ve been trying and the heartache and the disappointment every negative pregnancy test, that’s another one might just pushes over an edge that we don’t realize or even on. What terrifies me more is to get a positive. When I found out I was pregnant and told him when we knew for sure that we were pregnant, we had planned this Grand elaborate announcement for friends and family. Unfortunately we found out about the miscarriage before we could even make the announcement. One person I repeat only one person that we know even knew I was pregnant. Neither of us have heavy heart to even tell her that we lost the baby. The conversation we are dreading.

I think that’s probably one of the reasons I’m having a rough time with this I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. Yes my hubby is a great man and we talk a lot but I need a girlfriend that I can be sad with that will get me drunk and dye my hair horrible color. I am in a funk right now and I need help getting back out of it. 

Actually I’ve been in a funk for about six months now, all started back in November when two very important people passed away. I think back a long long time ago when I was a scared young woman that I had just received some terrifying news. I was introduced to the director of the MS Society and she recommended that I attend an art class. It was terrifying, entertaining, in the fulfeeling in so many ways. The woman that ran the art group Marie was a rockstar. She was a mentor a rock to lean on the mother figure that I needed at that moment and the best kind of friend a scared girl could have. Marie became family. Her and her husband were the best kind of people. I told them on a regular basis that I wanted to be just like them when I grow up. Stuff I learned from her life lessons people skills artistic abilities are gifts that I can never replace. Her death broke my heart. That trip to my hometown for two horrible funerals was more than my pretty little head can handle. I still don’t know how to process it.

I’m trying not to make anybody sad which is hard because I am sad. My trip home for the holidays rattled my cage and I was finally starting to come out of that unscaved when I was blessed with our child, to only have it taken away. I am trying very hard not to be angry or bitter. I just don’t know how I should be feeling…

I am hallow

This past week has been rough.

Monday: I went for a pre-op appointment. The sweet girl let me know that she had a D & C once, I’d be OK. It happened for a reason, I’ll get my baby someday. That  doesn’t make it any easier. Made it harder. Fortunately, I had no co-pay. Not sure that’s the right thing to say. Signed lots of papers, but the one that was the roughest was whether or not I wanted the doctor to take the remains to test or if I wanted them sent to a funeral home. I don’t know how to answer that. After the horror and fear that the DR put in me after meeting him, I am thinking TEST!! BUT the heartache that I feel tells me that to properly say goodbye to the child that we have been waiting seven years for, that we had been excited for and celebrating for past two months can not be discarded so easily.

Tuesday: D & C day. Get to the hospital bright and early. Nothing to eat or drink after midnight was rough. I know what I am here for, but that doesn’t change that I am still pregnant and that I am starving. Letting that nurse poke me, trying to find a vein for an IV was less than fun. We will get into the needles later. Basic lame talk from the dr when he showed up, I am taken back. Finally placed under for a few moments, and BAM I am back in the recovery room. My lady parts aren’t feeling good, but I guess that was expected. I have a sweet nurse. What was unexpected is that my left hand hurts. I look down and in the back of my hand is a second IV. I still have the original one, but as out of it as I am I forget about it. For a little bit. Doctor finally comes in, lets me know that he got everything out. It was a molar pregnancy. Don’t try to get pregnant for at least a year. The second IV was started to give me a blood transfusions, because I lost one and a half liters of blood. He has to leave town, so because I did well I should be able to go home within the hour. He’ll see me in a few weeks for my follow up. With that, he leaves. About twenty minutes later, the nurse has me get up to walk to the bathroom. Once I pee, I can go. I sit on the toilet and blink… and when I open my eyes I am on the floor. I passed out. The nurse helps me back to bed and finally lets in Hubby.

A different doctor comes in, lets me know she talked to the one that did the procedure and he wants to admit me over night. My vitals are to be taken every two hours and CBC every four. I was to be on a serious amount of saline, four bags so far. Once I am finally moved to my room, I tell my husband to go home. He had to work the grave that night. I’ll be OK. I will see you in the morning. Hug, hug, kiss, kiss.

You don’t need the details of that day. It was rough in just about every way it could be. Being at the end of the section, the nurses were not very cooperative, responsive or friendly. The lovely IV was placed in the bend of my arm, so about every twenty minutes for HOURS the alarm went off. When the nurse came in for my fourth blood draw and unteenth IV alarm, I insisted on a new location for my IV. The IV that had been started in my hand had blown hours earlier and the ignored alarm had set off my last nerve. She sent for the IV ultrasound machine and went about her day. The radiation lady spent over two hour searching and poking me. Finally, I said that if she didn’t find a vein this time, I WAS DONE. No more tries, no more fluids. Just rest. I guess, luckily she found one. Unfortunately WITH all that poking, I had missed dinner. A nurse found me a sandwich. yea. OH, and they had to cut my hospital bracelet off because I was so swollen it was cutting unto my skin.

Wednesday: I did not get a lot of sleep. With the constant checks, vitals, blood draws and trips to the bathroom sleep was not possible. Bright and early, the main Dr came in to tell me that my four a.m. blood draw looked good. I can shower and go. ‘Can the IV come out?!Yes. Minutes later the nurse came in for my vitals and I let her know that it could be removed, I was going home. Get in the shower, unattended. That is a big deal because I was a fall risk having passed out. TWO attendants were suppose to be with me every time I was out of bed. I want it to be noted that I was only supervised once in the whole time I was there. As I am getting out of the shower, there is a knock on the door and my Hubby was there! Man, I was glad. I needed him. Given generic instructions and stupid prescriptions we go.

When we got home, we immediately crawled in bed. WE were both asleep by 9 a.m. We slept until 3 p.m., ate lunch and went back to bed until 7 p.m.

Thursday: Did not do much. Didn’t have the energy too.

Friday: Felt a bit better. Well, until all the phone calls started. First the nurse from recovery called to check on me. ‘Yeah, I am feeling better. Yes, I will call my doctor with any questions. Of course I will come back if I feel like anything is wrong. Thanks for calling.‘ Worst part about this conversation was it was all lies. I was feeling fine, but other than that lied. Next, a representative from my PCP to see it I had seen the doctor that did the procedure. Yes. Lost blood, stayed over night in hospital. Shouldn’t you already know this?! I will come in (LIE!) if I feel bad. Did I mention that each time someone called they reminded me of my follow up appointment on different days and times?

NEXT, the woman from Pathology. My blood work looked good. The tissue was tested, and it was normal. Huh? Was not cancerous or genetically irregular. OK… It WAS NOT A MOLAR PREGNANCY. Just a simple miscarriage, ??!? You can try to get pregnant again once your doctor has released you to have sex. Dr is referring you to a specialist for a consultation and testing because you have MS. As she hangs up, I am confused. AND angry. Why would he lie to me or tell me something if he didn’t know for sure. I don’t like this doctor. Rash, heartless, rude. I didn’t choose to see him, definitely not under these circumstances. i don’t need you telling me that it happens all the time. This is the first time it has EVER HAPPENED TO ME! I don’t care if you are going to refer me to a specialist because I am high risk.

Later that day, I receive an email with medical records updates. I log into my account and start reading: ‘and she also received 800 mg of Cytotec which was administered rectally.’ WAIT! I never hears any mention of this drug. I had to google it to find out what it was. This is what I found out:

  • Misoprostol, sold under the brand name Cytotec among others, is a medication used to start labor, cause an abortion, prevent and treat stomach ulcers, and treat postpartum bleeding due to poor contraction of the uterus.
  • For abortions it is often used with mifepristone or methotrexate.
  • By itself effectiveness for this purpose is between 66% and 90%.
  • It is taken either by mouth, under the tongue, or placed in the vagina.
  • Common side effects include diarrhea and abdominal pain. It is pregnancy category X meaning that it is known to result in negative outcomes for the baby if taken during pregnancy. Uterine rupture may occur. It is a prostaglandin analogue — specifically, a synthetic prostaglandin E1 (PGE1).
  • Misoprostol is commonly used for labor induction. It causes uterine contractions and the ripening (effacement or thinning) of the cervix. It can be less expensive than the other commonly used ripening agent, dinoprostone.
  • Oxytocin has long been used as the standard agent for labor induction, but does not work well when the cervix is not yet ripe. Misoprostol also may be used in conjunction with oxytocin.
  • Between 2002 and 2012, a misoprostol vaginal insert was studied, and was approved in the EU. It was not approved for use in the USA, and the US FDA still considers cervical ripening and labor induction to be outside of the approved uses for misoprostol

 

I feel like this was something that should have been mentioned. Why didn’t he say anything about it? AND why was it administered rectally?! How… I feel violated. I keep reading: I should also mention that the patient’s type and screen was changed to a type and cross for 2 units when the blood loss appeared to be excessive, but the patient was stable throughout the surgery, was not hypotensive or tachycardic and so the decision was made to wait for a CBC in the recovery room prior to making any decision about transfusion. The stable vital signs along with the lack of ongoing bleeding and especially the fact that the patient had a preoperative hemoglobin of 14.2, all contributed to deciding not to transfuse in the operating room. Lastly, the blood loss of 1500 was arrived at because one canister was full with 1000, another canister had 200. There was about 100 in the _____ and another 200 on gauze pads and the glove that was attached to the  posterior weighted speculum. HUH! YOU SAID!! Why would you say that I needed a transfusion if I was never given one?! Really don’t like this man. What was suppose to fill in that blank?

I can not imagine how this week would have been without my Hubby. I know I have a good man, and beyond wonderful care giver, but after everything that has happened I feel blessed. Rented me funny movies, made me my favorite snacks, held my hand constantly. His strength is making me stronger. I am feeling better. No more lady pains, heartache is lessening. Not feeling so light headed, getting caught up on sleep. NOT sure if I ever want to see that DR again. I am sure that I am overreacting, but being that I have not received the best care from him I am hesitant.

A new week is starting, and I am feeling hopeful. Which is amazing…

I am still here.

As well we all know that life is an amusement part, the roller coaster of the last six months has been one heck of a ride. I don’t want to share too much in one post, so I will just talk about the current loop-de-loop.

A few weeks ago, the hubby and I celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary. A beautiful dinner, great day all together. I ordered him a specialty gift, made with love and worked on for weeks. I was proud, and could not wait for him to see it. Found ,pictures the we each loved, wrote cute little stories and made it into a book. Best part was that on the last page was a picture of THREE positive pregnancy test!

Since the day I gave him the book, it has been a whirl wind of doctors. Had to have it confirmed, had the first ultrasound. Not ten minutes after that, I get a call from a doctor that I have never seen to say that the ’tissue looked suspicious’ and that I would probably miscarry. Went to more appointments, each saying something different. It is hard not to feel anything when you can and are feeling everything. Happy. Sad. Excited. Numb. Heartbroken. Confused. Blank. Watching my sweet Hubby go through this has been the hardest part. I hate seeing him this way, a broken man. I am trying not to feel anything and he is carrying the world on his shoulders.

Monday, I am 12 weeks. On Monday I have a pre-op appointment for a D & C. The doctor that is preforming the procedure is … different. His nurse, however is an angel. I am thankful for such a blessing. Can not say for sure everything that was said today. It was too much for my little head and my breaking heart. I will tell you all about what happens next…