Why'd I do that?

Last week I finally had a 'meet the doctor' appointment with our new family Dr here. MIL set it up for us and I know how lucky we are to get in as this practice is not taking new patients, which is true of all practices around here.

It was a meet the whole family appointment but DH couldn't come so I went alone with the kids. Yeah, I'm NOT doing that again! I thought it would be fine but DS was climbing up and under chairs, playing with the water fountain, running up and down the waiting room shouting: GO FASTER at the top of his lungs, opening 'staff only' doors and charging into restricted areas and I am chasing him while holding DD and trying to fill out 5 sets of forms all asking the same darn questions. Ack! I kept thinking this was a stupid appointment anyway...meet the Dr. >_>

When she finally came into to the tiny exam room, where DS was trying to unplug everything in sight and DD squirmed like mad to get down, I liked her instantly. She is about my age, with kids my age, warm, easy to talk to and very dedicated to preventative care and educating her patients, which is exactly the kind of Dr I like. YAY! I was glad I'd gone at that point. And having a meet and greet to get my history was a nice first appointment to have.

So, as she took down our medical and family histories, she asked a lot of questions of course. The first was how many pgs I'd had. I told her 4. Two miscarriages while TTC#1, one was natural at almost 12w, the other needed a D&C at 11w and two relatively uneventful ones with DS and DD. Even as I was explaining it all to her, while her med student who was sitting in with us gave me this pitiful look when I talked about my losses, I wondered: Why did I do that??? Why didn't I tell her about the chemical pg between my 2 m/cs? I talk about it freely with others. Especially my message board friends. In my heart always think of the three sweet souls I've lost even if one was a little angel I never would have known about if I wasn't TTC and POAS at 13dpo.

You know what's funny (funny strange, not funny funny) I did the same thing when I was admitted to L&D when I gave birth to each of my 2 kids. Perhaps I am afraid to admit losing 3. Maybe it's because my chem pg wasn't like my other two m/cs. That pg was not documented by anyone other than me in FF. I just don't know why I did that. It makes me sad and I feel very guilty for leaving that little out in my fertility history on my medical charts. I wish I knew why I did that.

I'm so sorry...I miss you all my sweet little angels xoxoxo

Spirit Babies

A few weeks ago I was thinking a lot about the babies I've lost. The 3rd anniversary of my 2nd m/c and the D&C I had to have for it is about a week away. DH noticed I was down in the dumps and when I told him why he just listened. I asked him if he ever wonders about them and what they'd be like he just smiled and said - they're J...they were all J waiting for the perfect time.

Well, that's one way to look at it, and while I'll never stop being sad and wondering what would have been I take some comfort from DH's perspective and belief on this subject. It's the same idea as the article below, which is a real tearjerker. I came across this on a pg loss board after my 2nd m/c. I guess DH is not alone in his thinking about m/c.

RELATED ARTICLE: Spirit baby.
PEGGY VINCENT
NOVEMBER 1983
OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

Colin, my 12-year-old son, discovered me late one rainy afternoon sitting at the kitchen table, a damp Kleenex crumpled in my left hand, wiping my eyes as I tried to compose myself for his sake. It was the third week of January, two months after I'd miscarried a pregnancy, but I still found it impossible to get through a day without at least one meltdown into misery.Stunned when the test came back positive, my husband, Rog, and I had stared at each other with doubt and ambivalence.

At 41, my professional life consumed me. I had just achieved what some had predicted was an impossibility: I'd been granted delivery privileges at Alta Bates Hospital in Berkeley, California, and as a consequence, my midwifery practice burgeoned. Some months I delivered 12 babies, and no one ever knew if or when I'd be home. Rog, too, felt stretched to his limits, keeping his business afloat while picking up the slack for my frequent unscheduled absences. Colin and my daughter, Jill, approached their challenging adolescent years. How could we fit an infant into our lives? But when I lost the pregnancy and all hope for resolution dissolved with my tears, I fell in love with the baby that was not to be.

Colin asked, "Are you crying about the baby?" and when I nodded tearfully, he said, "Well, you just have to have another one, Mom, because it's a Spirit Baby, and you should be its mother."I must have looked puzzled because he said, "Don't you know about Spirit Babies? How could I know about them if you don't? I mean, you're my mom!" But he could see my perplexity.

So my first child, this not-yet-teenaged boy, pulled a wooden chair to my side and draped his thin arm across my shoulder, saying, "Well, Mom, here's how it is. See, I was one myself, so that must be how I know. Anyway, every woman has a circle of babies that goes around and around above her head, and those are all the possible babies she could have in her whole life. Every month, one of those babies is first in line. If she gets pregnant, then that's the baby that's born. If she doesn't get pregnant, the baby goes back into the circle and keeps going around with all the others. If she gets pregnant but something bad happens before the baby's born ... now listen, Mom, because here's the really cool part. It goes back into the circle, but it becomes a Spirit Baby, and all the other babies give it cuts. Each month, it's always first in line. Isn't that great?

When you least expect it...

I live in a small town where small talk reigns supreme but sometimes the most innocent remark or question can bring someone's world crashing down. This is what happened to the cashier who was ringing in my items yesterday at Walmart.

The interaction I witnessed between the cashier and a pal of hers who was going through another line:

Acquaintance: Hey Ronda! How's it going?

A smiling and relaxed Rhonda replies: Oh, not bad.

Acquaintance: So, any babies yet for you?

Rhonda looked completely crushed her cheeks instanly flushed bright red and obsviously holding back tears she simply shook her head no.

Acquaintance: Oh, Rhonda, I'm sorry. I didn't know.

Rhonda: You're not the first....

Silence.

I don't know the details but clearly there has been some trying and loss...

I stood there suddenly wishing I was not buying a little Take Along Thomas set for my little boy and a new bib and spoons for my little girl.

I just wanted to reach out and hug this woman who was clearly going through something really hard and sad. My heart truly went out to her because I felt like I could relate to her situation.

We TTC and lost three pregnancies to miscarriage before being blessed with two healthy pgs from which I gave birth to two beautiful, healthy children. The losses we suffered were awfully hard and so heartbreaking for me and my husband. Many times in those dark days following the devasting m/c's I found myself in Rhonda's shoes with a lump in my thoat and tears welling in my eyes in a public place because a curious and well meaning acqauintance asked the 'wrong' question.

Being in Walmart yesterday and hearing this conversation brought the memories of those sad times and my three tiny angels rushing back in an overwhelming way. I choked back tears for my own losses as well as for the heartbreak of the woman who stood before me.

I wish I could have talked to her, shared my story and listened to hers. I wish I could have offered her some comfort and hope, but was not my place to do that or say anything at all since I did not know her. I truly wanted let her know she is not alone but I didn't know how so I just bit my lip and quietly walked away as soon as my purchased were packed away in the grey bags.

The scenario I saw yesterday did get me thinking a lot about miscarriage - my own and those of so many others. I concluded that one of the hardest thing about this kind of loss is that there is no script for how we should act, react and what, if anything, we should say as a way to offer comfort and sympathy without offending or hurting the grief stricken mother. It's so hard...