Bottles and Diapers

There's an empty baby bottle sitting on my desk at work right now.

It's supposed to raise awareness for Pro-Life.  It's supposed to collect money to send to a foundation that supports young women who choose not to abort their babies.

All it's doing right now is messing with my head.  As are the signs promoting the pro-life club.  As would the beeping metronome meant to symbolize a heartbeat had I allowed it to be placed in my classroom.

I don't really want to talk about Pro-Life.  I'm not looking to get controversial right now. 

But seriously this freaking baby bottle sitting on my desk, "staring" at me is NOT helping.

I have two cases of diapers at home.  Unopened.  In my crawl space.  They sit there with two boxes of bottles and a box of plastic inserts.  I was being prepared.  I was following the advice of other moms and buying a pack or two of diapers each week so that I wouldn't be inundated with diaper purchases after the baby came.  I was excited.

Two weeks ago I finally had to ask my husband to do something with them.  I couldn't stand having them sit in our front hallway anymore.  I had thought about returning them and using the money for booze, because really, it's coming in a lot more handy than diapers are right now.

But that allowed the negativity in and I'm REALLY trying to NOT allow the negativity in.

BUT DAMMIT this freaking baby bottle sitting on my desk is NOT helping.

Yeah, I could put it away.  Yeah I could say a student swiped it.  Yeah I could just ask that I not participate.  But life goes on, right?  And baby bottles are going to be there and diapers are going to be there and babies, in general, are going to be there.

And eventually, hopefully, they'll all be together again in my house.

But for right now, this baby bottle?  Really not helping my emotional well being!

*I promise that I will stop talking about this really soon!  Today hit me like a Mack truck and I think it's the combo of the bottle and being super duper sick and needing to be home in bed!*

Seriously Coping

Right now I'm propped up in my bed with ungraded exams surrounding me, a pillow pet behind my head and another Grey's Anatomy episode is playing via my PS3 and Netflix on my TV.

I'm in Season 6.  There are 8 seasons and I'm not sure season 7 is available via Netflix.  I'm worried about the impending end of season 6. Seriously.

You see I lost a baby 3 weeks ago and my coping mechanism- along with spending lots of time in my sweats, shutting myself off from everyone except a few friends and family, and drinking BOATLOADS of English tea- has been to watch Grey's Anatomy reruns on Netflix.  Seriously.

I started with season 1 and I've worked my way through just about every episode in the past three weeks.

Is my mechanism healthy or normal?  Who the hell knows....really...who the hell cares?!?!  I'm not popping pain meds or indulging in the sleeping pills I was prescribed (I've only taken 2- hence my undereye circles and desire to sleep for hours on end).  I'm not jonesing for a drink the moment I wake up.  And I no longer feel the desire to kill anyone.  Seriously.

I'm watching re-runs of what basically amounts to a soap opera.  And it makes me feel good.  And deep down inside I think it makes my husband feel better, too, because at least I'm not crying anymore.

I started watching Grey's when I was pregnant with our son.  That was over 6 years ago.  And I am sure that I am connected those moments of comfort and safety and excitement in pregnancy and life to the show and by watching it now I'm gaining some of that.

Or maybe, just maybe, watching these fictional characters on the screen who have fictional problems and fictional romances helps me to escape my very real life and the very real sadness that has resulted from the series of events which occurred three weeks ago.

My money is on option #2.  Seriously.

My coping mechanism may be super weird but it's not dangerous, it's not hurting me or anyone else and it's helping me to pass the time.  And sure I could grade or do lesson plans or bake more or fold more laundry but, really, none of that makes me feel better.  This does. 

And I can confidently say that I'm better than I was three weeks ago.  Seriously.

So, I'm going to finish up all of the seasons that Netflix has to offer and then I'm going to take the next step that's in front of me.  Seriously.

What Do you Do?!

So, what does one do when they are:
* depressed
* overweight from putting on poundage very fast in the first 9 weeks of pregnancy and then all of a sudden not being pregnant anymore
* in need of motivation for weight loss
* trying to make time pass much faster than it currently is
* looking for something to take up the extra few minutes of life that are not already consumed
* trying to get back into shape so that they can get pregnant again
* attempting to lose weight for an impending trip to Disneyworld in 5 weeks
* trying to work through the tons of different emotions currently clouding their vision
* trying not to waste their membership to their local YMCA
* looking to carve out some time for themselves apart from their children
* spending too much time on the couch watching re-runs of Grey's Anatomy on Netflix

They register for a 5k through Disneyworld.  Even though they aren't in shape and they get winded walking to the fridge.

Isn't that what everyone does in this type of situation?

Frustration of Anticipation

For the past few days, while forming this post in my head, I had convinced myself that there was a song by Carly Simon or Stevie Nicks called "Frustration".  I have since come to realize that the song I'm thinking of is actually, "Anticipation" by Carly Simon.

Interesting to me.

Right now, I'm living in frustration central.

I'm frustrated that we lost what seemed to be a very healthy pregnancy.

I'm frustrated that we don't have any answers as to why we lost the baby.

I'm frustrated that I put on so much weight so quickly that now my clothes don't fit me.

I'm frustrated that my return to the gym was met with lots of heavy breathing, lackluster treadmill performances and general out of shape-ness.

I'm frustrated that I haven't slept more than 2 hours in the past two weeks. (Except for the one night that I broke down and took my Ambien and had the CRAZIEST FREAKING DREAM EVER!)

I'm frustrated that we have to wait until we get clearance from my doctor before we can try again.

I'm frustrated that my days vary so much.  I have really good ones and then I get smacked in the face with a terribly bad one.

I'm just frustrated.

And oddly enough, I'm frustrated with all of the anticipation of what our next step is and when it will begin. 

I'm not a patient person.  And while the build up of something usually makes the outcome that much better, I'd really like instant gratification right now.

Not gonna happen.

Frustration has a negative connotation and because I'm trying all that I can to focus on the positive I think I need to look at the anticipation rather than the frustration.

I'm anticipating my follow-up doctor's visit tomorrow and what she will tell me.

I'm anticipating my next workout at the gym because it means I'm getting that much closer to fitting back into my clothes and being healthy again.

I'm anticipating us getting cleared to move forward and try again.

I'm anticipating the end of my frustration.

And, again, instant gratification would help me out a TON right now.  But, it's not gonna happen.

So, I live with frustration of anticipation and take it one day at a time.  And hope that tomorrow is better than today or at least not as bad as the last bad day was.

"We can never know about the days to come
But we think about them anyway, yay"

And I'm frustrated with myself for "wishing" these days away because these may be the most important days of all.

Navigation

I can say with complete confidence that before losing a baby I did not know how to react to someone who had lost one.  And I can also say that before losing a baby I could not even begin to imagine what a woman, a couple, a family goes through when they lost a baby.

Those are the things I keep reminding myself of as I go through each day.  Well, among the other things.

I went back to work this Monday and one of my co-workers came into my classroom and asked how I was doing and my response to him was, “Well, I woke up this morning and didn’t want to kill anyone so I’m running with that positive thought for the day.”  We both chuckled a bit but it was clear that what was behind those words meant much more than anything else.

I constantly have to remember that this type of situation is quite possibly one of the most awkward things for someone on the outside of it to understand.  And I have tried very hard to make sure that I react to people with compassion and understanding even when I don’t feel like they are reacting to me in that way.

I cannot begin to tell you the number of people who have said to my face, “Well, I’m not going to ask how you are because I’m sure everyone is asking and I already know how you’re doing.”  I finally responded to one individual with, “Actually, not too many people have been asking but I understand this is difficult for people to know what to do.  It’s an awkward situation for those on the outside.”

I think they were even more uncomfortable after that.

I also cannot begin to tell you the number of people whom I have not heard a word from and who I thought were our closest friends.  It is shocking to me.  But again, I remind myself that this is unchartered waters for so many people and it’s very difficult for people to know what to say at a time of loss, especially this type of loss.

What I can begin to tell you about are the absolutely amazing people who have stepped up and in when my husband and I never, ever expected it.

The friends and family who called, texted, and bbm’d their words of sorrow and support, their offers of any time of the night phone calls, the genuine sadness at our loss.  The amazing people on Facebook and through this blog who have emailed and messaged me to let me know they are here and there for us.  The flowers that came from a co-worker and his family with a kind note.  The emails that came offering words of comfort or offers to buy us dinner. 

The outpouring of love for us during this time has been incredible and I cannot even begin to express the gratitude that we feel.  Thank You.

I look at the experience and I try to pull as much positive from it as possible.  I look at the fact that we have been reminded of the incredible support system and friendships that are around us.  I recognize that nothing will ever replace the baby that we lost but that the love and support we have received will hold us up in times of sadness.  I firmly believe that out of our sorrow and loss there will come something amazing and wonderful.  That wherever we go from here we will carry with us an angel that will remind us of where we’ve been and how wonderful where we are really is.

Among everyone else I cannot begin to express how wonderful my immediate family and my husband have been during all of this.  Their support, comfort, and love are the backbone of what have brought me through so much of this.

The Unimagined Road

Yesterday was probably the first time ever that I have seen my OB/GYN's office empty.  I mean EMPTY.  There were one or two women in the back exam rooms but that was it...they were gone by the time I went back.

I am thankful that it was empty.

I am thankful that I didn't need to leave my exam room right away after my ultrasound.

I am thankful that the nurses were able to come into my room and sit with me and hug me and cry with me until my mom was able to arrive.

I am thankful that there were no pregnant women sitting in the waiting room that I would have to walk by on my way out.

One week ago yesterday I saw my baby's strong heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor in the very same room that I was in yesterday.

Yesterday that same monitor showed a bean shaped baby with no heartbeat.

Yesterday I spent much of my afternoon and evening crying and trying not to think about the baby we had just chosen names and godparents for this past weekend.

Yesterday I spent much of my time after the doctor trying not to think about the fact that when August comes we won't be bringing home a new baby.

Yesterday I spent the hours after my unexpected doctor appointment mourning a life that was to develop between now and August.

Today, I begin the process of moving forward and continuing to grieve our baby but realizing that there is still a wonderful life here and endless possibilities laid out before us.

I never imagined that we would be on this road- I don't think anyone does- but here we are and we are navigating loss and change the best way we know how. 

I'm not really sure where this road leads but I am praying that it leads to greater happiness than we ever could have imagined. 

Because right now the sadness that we're walking with is just really shitty and I'd rather not have to live with it much longer.