These miscarriages absolutely rock the earth beneath my feet. Some worse than others. I think the hormonal insanity that follows is probably the hardest part. It seems to take months before my body & mind feels up to par again. I think I dread that process right now.

I went for my ultrasound today. I think I was hoping that they would see a heartbeat, miraculously. It was hard watching the screen. The tech tried to darken the image so that I couldn’t see the little fella’s details. I asked her to let me see more of his little features and when she lightened the screen, I could see his bitty little hands, his round little tummy, short little feets. He was precious. When the tech left she told me that I could stay as long as I needed in her office, and handed me some tissues. My chin quivered while I waited for her to exit. “Just Go. Just leave me alone,” I thought. And that’s when it all came out again. I sobbed quietly into my pile of clothes. I stayed there for awhile just letting it flow. And it felt good.

The doctor called this afternoon to tell me that he thought I should just let this happen naturally at home. If I hadn’t started miscarrying in another week, he’d consider the d&c. My nausea is slowly dwindling and the sore bosoms are gone, so I expect that my hormones are dropping in preparation. I started cramping pretty good (bad) today. The hard part is the anticipation. I mean, I know it’s coming inevitably. But I dread it. And I need to talk about it.

My first miscarriage was pretty awful. It was at 8 weeks. I woke with cramps one morning and as soon as I stood up, blood just flowed and flowed. It was unbelievable. I have never seen anything like it. I knew something had to be very wrong, other than I was obviously losing my baby. I called my neighbor (Jeremy was working, and this was before cell phones). She came over and saw all the blood and called 911. The ambulance crew cleaned it all up, which was amazing because that was the last thing I’d want to deal with once I got home from the emergency room. The experience was just a bit scarring, and I can’t imagine going through another one like that.

The next 3 miscarriages happened before the 6th or 7th week. So they came on much like a heavy period. Nothing too terrible. The 5th loss was just like this one, at the latter end of the first trimester, but the doctor did a d&c so it was over quickly and fairly painlessly. The 6th miscarriage was in December 2007 and was, again, very early on so it wasn’t too awful. This one will be the latest miscarriage. And, thank God, the last miscarriage I will ever have to bare again. But I still have yet to bare it. That’s the hard part.

I’ve read about what to expect during a late miscarriage at home. I thought I was preparing myself, but instead I caused more dread. I read that some women have labor like pains and contractions. I read that some women will have their milk come in afterwards. These things just give me the heebie jeebies. And I wish I could have, since it were inevitable anyways, just miscarried weeks ago. A month ago even. It would have been a bit easier, I think.

I just want to fast forward two weeks. But I can’t find the fucking remote and it seems this scene is in slow motion. Ugghhh.

I curse this swollen tummy that looks 4 months pregnant. I can’t suck it in and I can’t squeeze it into anything cute or pretty. I feel frumpy and swollen. I didn’t mind that when I could wear my maternity tops last week with all my maternal cuteness. Now the maternity tops make me feel like shit, and I yet feel like shit for feeling like shit because STEPHANIE, helllooo? There are people being diagnosed with cancer right now, or losing a child, or dying too soon in a car accident and why should I be so self indulged to think my loss is even worth whining about? Get over it, Steph! And yet I can’t help it. This is mine to deal with right now. But am I dealing with it? No. I’m whining instead and wishing I could just curl into a ball under my covers and hide from it!

I curse this nausea. I curse the mood swings and the crabiness. I curse my hormonal sadness. I curse the bladder that is always full and I just curse. I Curse. Curse. Curse.

I blew up at Austin today. I’ve never been like this before. He was just being the typical sarcastic teenager, but it happened at the wrong time. I had just hung up the phone with the doctor. Austin was playing with the babies in the front yard and came in to use the bathroom. He forgot to close the gate outside and in a matter of seconds, I looked outside and saw Noah heading for the street. I was in a passionate moment from the phone call and when I saw Noah heading out into the street, I grew furious at Austin for forgetting to close the gate. I got Noah back into the yard and started fussing at Austin. He turned his back and walked away from me, slamming the bathroom door. I hollered for him to come back because I was talking to him. “It’s rude for you to just walk away from me when I’m talking to you!” He said something snide and I walked up to him and shoved him. I SHOVED MY SON out of anger– something I’ve NEVER done. I swore I would never touch my children in an angry moment.

I didn’t hurt him, but the look in his eyes is still haunting me– he was shocked and scared. And I can apologize until I’m blue in the face but I can never take it back. I can never erase that image in my head of my scared child. Thank goodness he is so forgiving. Thank goodness time will heal the hurt this day brought us all.

I wrote this post for the purpose of healing, not for comments– maybe just for it to float into cyber space and find its way to another woman feeling and experiencing any of the things I expressed here. Maybe she’ll know it’s all part of the process of healing, and that she’s not alone. There’s no “normal” way to deal with grief, we just have to work our way through it. It’s part of the ebb and flow of life.

I read about some tips today on dealing with miscarriage. I found several different sites that were helpful and made notes as I went. I can’t cite the sites because when I jotted the suggestions down, I didn’t think I’d share them. But here they are, and I hope that they might help anyone dealing with grief or loss, as I hope to allow them to help me…

* Hold hands with your spouse or a close friend…

* Hug and play with children…

* Cuddle pets…

* Have a massage, manicure, or get your hair washed and styled. Touch is healing…

* Hug. Ask for lots of hugs…

* Cry…

* Pray…

* Stay busy…

* Keep a journal (or a blog)…

* Remember that better days are coming…

“Hope is like the sun, which, as we journeyltoward it, casts thelshadow of our burdenlbehind us.”

ll~Samuel S.Smiles, Author (1812-1904)