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Heather's Diary Entries

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September 12, 2000

Hello all,
For those of you who still remember me, I will start again with an apology for taking so long to finish this diary. I honestly intended to follow up a lot sooner than I have; writing the last entry proved to be much more difficult emotionally than I had bargained for, so I have waited until now. There are so many things that I want to say, but I think that I should start by finishing the story of what happened after I refused to have the D&C.

I waited, week after week - six weeks in all after I had gone to the ER. I spotted and bled off and on, but there was never a cramp or a twinge -- not a single sign that I was going to miscarry. I prayed and prayed for God to let me do this, I begged Him to let me miscarry. It didn't happen, and I'll admit that my faith was severely challenged throughout those weeks. I was so depressed, so overwhelmed.

About four weeks later, after having been through the emotional wringer, I finally called my doctor and begged her to give me something to help me miscarry on my own. (She had previously told me there was nothing she could do, but after talking with a good friend, a labor and delivery nurse, she told me there WAS something available.) My doctor finally relented and prescribed a tiny pill. It was my friend, not the nurse at the office, who told me the right way to push it onto my cervix and how to lie very still with my legs up. The pill began to work. I began bleeding heavily and passing some very large clots, and even had some major cramping, but by the following morning everything slowed right down. And then stopped altogether. I cannot tell you how disappointed I was, how angry. I only wanted it to be over, and as gory as it may sound, I wanted to be there, awake, when my little one finally left my body. It wasn't to be.

Six weeks after finding out that I had lost my baby, and a full 12 weeks after she had actually died, I had a D&C. I finally broke down, so desperate to be done with the whole experience. My husband assured me that it didn't matter what it would cost, my health came first. I felt so betrayed by my body ... it couldn't keep my baby alive, and it wouldn't even miscarry on its own. I am still convinced that my body lacks something important to make it go into "labor"... even though my doctor said that the chemicals that induce labor and those that cause a miscarriage are different. I still think otherwise!

The D&C went fine, although while I was waiting in pre-op, I had a terrible nurse. She asked me a whole list of questions, including, "Did you take prenatal vitamins?" I said I had until they made me sick, so I stopped. She gave me this strange look and then got up and left the room without a word! My DH looked at me and said what I was thinking ... it was as if she thought that were the reason I lost my baby. I was shocked that a nurse would be so unfeeling, but I wasn't exactly prepared to confront her about it .The anesthesiologist was much better. Dr. Dan took my hand and told me how sorry he was that I had to be there, and his voice is the last I remember hearing ..."Don't worry, Heather, we'll take good care of you." I knew he was telling me the truth.

I woke up crying in the recovery room. I don't remember what I dreamt; I just know that it was about my baby. I tried to tell the nurses that, but I was still so out of it that they didn't seem to understand me. Other women have told me that they were very emotional as well. Maybe it's a side effect of the anesthesia, but I prefer to think that it's our souls coming to the realization that our babies are really gone. I felt so empty when I finally came to, even though her little soul had been gone for quite some time, her body had been with me, and now all that I had of her was gone.

My body healed just fine, though I bled for longer than I expected to. I was relieved to finally have it done with, relieved that I could now try and work through the pain without having to deal with trying to miscarry. It was an end of sorts, though the empty spot in my heart will always be there. I just don't feel the pain so deeply as I used to.

As I look back, a lot of things start to make sense. In the last month before I found out that my baby was gone, some strange things had been happening. But because I was so busy, I just ignored them. Or perhaps I thought it was the wonderfulness of the second trimester. My cravings disappeared, my appetite decreased, my lower back suddenly felt so much better, I wasn't nearly as tired. While experiencing any of these things does not mean that you are going to miscarry, there was one major sign for me that tied everything together ... lack of movement. I did not mention it before, but on Thanksgiving morning I had felt a very tiny "ping" in my lower belly. I thought that it was just my imagination, but after three pregnancies you get used to feeling movement early on. I waited all that month to feel more movement but there wasn't any, and even though I was worried, my DH just kept telling me that we had a laid-back baby on our hands. And that's what I kept telling myself.

Next time (and there will be a next time!), I will do things much differently. Part of me wishes that I would have seen a doctor earlier on, but realistically, it was better that things happened the way they did. How impossible it would have been for me to get through the holidays knowing that my baby was gone. So I am glad that I found out when I did.

Emotional healing took a lot longer than the physical recovery. It would be months and months before I could look at a pregnant woman without choking or see a newborn and not feel the tears welling up. Every day was a challenge, but with my wonderful husband, supportive friends, and my three children (who would remind me every day that they were my babies and I still had them!), I began to heal. I was also told by some friends of mine on the "Due in June" board that the "TTC after Miscarriage" board was a supportive place to go. There I met some amazing women, and shortly thereafter, found my way over to the "Multiple Miscarriage" board. I cannot even begin to tell you what a profound effect these women have had on my life. They were such an important part of my healing, and I know for a fact that I would never have gotten to such a healthy place emotionally, so quickly, without them. They were there to pick me up when I was down, encourage me when I felt hopeless, shared their own stories of grief and healing, and rejoiced with me when life turned sweet again. I owe them so much, and will be forever grateful to them for their love, friendship and support.

My EDD was a tough day, because it was also my birthday. I did not want to celebrate it, but my family and friends wouldn't listen to me! I managed to get through the day pretty well, although at one point I saw a little baby and everything seemed to stop. In that moment, all the sadness rushed over me again, but there was something new with it this time. A sweetness, a gratefulness for the time I was able to have my little Sophia with me. That day was a turning point of sorts, and every day since has gotten easier and easier.

Thankfully, several months after the surgery, the hospital told us that we qualified for some financial assistance, and so we did not have to bear the bulk of owing thousands of dollars to them. I cannot tell you what a relief that was.

I will never forget what I went through, and I will never forget the sweet baby that I never got to hold in my arms. I think of her every day, and there is a part of my heart that will always be missing because she took it with her when she left me. After foolishly trying to fill that void with other things, I have finally begun to understand that it will always be there, like a scar branded on my soul. Though I may not feel the ache like I used to, nothing and no one will ever replace my little Sophia.

Like the Beatles sang, life goes on. I have enjoyed my children so much more because of what I lost, and my husband and I are closer than ever. Someday there will be another little one in our family, and we hope to adopt as well. It's good to dream again. It's good to have hope.

Thank you for listening to my story. I want to thank those of you who posted to me on my "Talk to Me" board. I was so comforted by your outpouring of compassion, and I am sorry that I did not respond but it meant so much to me to know that you cared. To other women who are going through what I have, please feel free to email me at mawdz@juno.com. As painful as this is, you are not alone. That's something that amazed me: how many women have suffered this kind of loss and don't talk about it. We need to talk about it; we need to acknowledge what we have lost.

A great big hug and the richest blessings on each and every one of you ...

Heather



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