Heavy Grief Days

Today is a heavy grief day. It's really hard to blog on heavy grief days. It's hard to put the feelings into words. Grieving is so complex, and grief mixed with reproduction and all the related decisions is even more complex. How does one explain a day of feeling hope, fear, pain, certainty of failure, desire to try again, just plain desire, listlessness, loneliness, sorrow, and a little excitement, all mixed together? A heavy grief day. So few words. So much meaning.

I cried. I thought about commemorating my babies on Oct. 15th. I though about how to raise awareness when I don't want to tell people IRL about what happened to me. I knit.

I tried to take care of myself. Basic things:

• Shower
• Exercise
• Food
• Meditation

Hopefully some journal work to come. And I need to water my strawberries. I am glad to have some projects and some plants. It keeps me somewhat sane.

I saw a book today called The Mother's Comfort Book. I thought, it needs a companion: The Bereaved Mother's Comfort Book. Or something. There's just not enough for us PAIL mom's out there . . . 

Which Cliff

This weekend DH & I had some heavy conversations about the next step on our journey. One thing that came out of those conversations was that I created a pros & cons list of all the options I can see for us right now. At the end of it, I felt just as hopeless and confused as I did before I started.

The only thing I think I've figured out is that whichever way we go from here, whether we get more testing and treatment or jump back in to TTC or something else, it still involves jumping off a cliff. And there is no way to ensure that our parachute won't fail. So the question isn't whether or not to jump off the cliff, and it's not how to ensure a safe jump. It's just which cliff. And when. Those are the only questions left.

Which cliff do we jump off of?

And when do we take the plunge?

There is no safety net. And we can't see the ground below before we jump. Of any of the cliffs. We'll never see the ground until we land safely.

So which cliff is it to be?

Searching for a Fertility Practitioner

I find myself in the middle of a desperate search for a new care provider--one who specializes in fertility/miscarriage and some form of alternative medicine and is either covered my my insurance or not too expensive. It is quite a daunting task. I have 3 top candidates, 7 back-up options, and 3 I'm still learning more about to decide whether they are top choices or back-up.

The reason I am so incredibly focused on this is that I want to get some testing done before we start TTC again. And I want to be able to start TTC as soon as my body is ready. And I want to know when my body is ready. But after two miscarriages when I thought my body was ready, I don't trust my own judgment of the situation any more. I want some external confirmation.

So I am getting ready to send out some e-mails (did I mention that I hate phone calls?). They are basically form e-mails, with a few personalizations, to find out how much experience these people have, and what their success rates are. After reading Coming to Term I know, intellectually, that my chances of carrying to term without any help are still at least 65%, but I want to increase that. So I'm looking for someone with a 70-85% success rate over several years and a good number of clients (I'm not sure what I "good number of clients" is for an alternative practitioner--but I know it won't be as high as for a big fertility clinic . . . ).

I guess I'll compare their answers and see what I get and then add my gut feeling into the mix and make a decision. Knowing I'm going to have to make that decision is really weighing on me. I don't trust myself right now, but I still have to be the one to decide. That's a hard feeling to deal with . . .

Dream Baby

I wanted to share this entry from my pregnancy/loss journal:

This morning, I dreamed I had a baby. I held it, stroked it's head, and taught it to smile and to kiss me. It tried to smile, but it also made funny, baby faces. It was fully formed, but much smaller than normal. It was wrapped in a blanket and all I could see was its head--a tiny head It had blond, fuzzy hair and blond, springy eyebrows. Its lips were red, its eyes were open, and it was beautiful.

I do not know this baby's name, or whether it was a girl or a boy. I do not know where it came from. I do know that I was its mother--it was mine--and I loved it very much and I was happy holding it. I felt as if I could stare at and ply with my baby for hours and hours. I was entranced.

I woke up happy. This dream gave me hope. Since there was no pregnancy or birth in the dream, the baby might have been adopted. Since it was so small, it might represent the dream babies I miscarried that should still be growing inside me. In any case, in the dream I knew I was a mother, and, waking up, I was filled with certainty that I will be a mother of  a living child someday.

New Veiw of Testing

Yesterday, I got an insight on why I might want to get some testing done on the causes of my miscarriages. Up until now, I've been scared to find out that something is wrong with me, or that I don't like the usual course of action to fix the problem. I'm very leery of Western medicine, and usually prefer to go for alternative treatments first. Also, in reading Coming to Term, I got the impression that very few of the commonly used miscarriage treatments have ever been proven effective. I'm even more leery of Western medicine when it recommends unproven treatments . . .

But for the past few days (well weeks really) I've been worrying about how I'll know when it's "safe" to try again. Not that anything can entirely eliminate the risk of miscarriage, but how will I know when I've substantially reduced my risk? That's when I figured out one of the benefits of testing--it's a measurable way to determine if the action I'm taking to reduce my risk has had enough of an effect for me to feel comfortable getting pregnant again.

So I think I'm finally ready to start looking for a fertility specialist. I'm planning to start with someone who specializes in TCM/Acupuncture, because I'm more comfortable using Eastern healing modalities, and of the Eastern modalities, TCM is the most widely available where I live. There actually are several Acupuncturists in my area who specialize in reproductive, endocrine, and fertility issues.

Now, to actually make the phone calls. I hate making phone calls. But I'm getting better at it . . .

Growing Resentment

I am starting to feel more and more resentment towards parents with small children. This is recent. Up until this past week, it was only pregnant women. Now it's anyone with a child under the age of 4 or 5, sometime parents with older kids, too. It's really awful. I used to be mildly jealous of moms with babies and kids, but also optimistic that I would have babies of my own someday. Now, I don't have that optimism to buoy me. Sure, I can adopt. I'm counting on adopting if I don't get a sticky pregnancy by next May. But I'm realizing how important genetics really are. And I'm not just jealous. I'm downright resentful. I can't even look at women with children. It physically hurts.

I think it might be hormonal. TMI alert: I'm ovulating. I'm also preoccupied with the fact that I *should* be 4 or 5 months pregnant by now. Would be if I hadn't miscarried both pregnancies this spring. It really stings to think about that. I should be showing. I should be shopping for maternity clothes. I should be putting up frozen and canned food in anticipation of not having much time to cook this winter. I should be planning my baby registry. I should be . . . The list goes on. I try not to think about it too much.

On the brighter side, the midwife I saw last spring for my pre-pregnancy pap wasn't avoiding me because she was giving me the cold shoulder as I feared. She was avoiding me because she was embarrassed that it had taken her so long to respond. So now we are back in touch. She still doesn't know about my miscarriages though. If I hire her when I do get pregnant, I'll tell her then. But I think she's too busy now to really focus on me. If I hire someone to help, it should be someone who specializes in fertility/miscarriage issues. I have a couple of leads for acupuncturists I'm planning to check out. I'm just not quite there yet. Not quite ready to switch from using Ayur Veda to using TCM. But I think I probably will make the switch, since there are no local Vaidyas at all, not to mention any that specialize in fertility. While there are local LAc fertility specialists. So that will probably be the next step on my journey.

I just wish there was some way to erase the heartache and start over. Although I don't want to erase my babies. I just want to stop aching so I can enjoy my future and remember my babies with love.

Grief Ambush

My grief snuck up and surprised me today. I was feeling nostalgic about not being pregnant and really sad when I saw all the moms with kids at the farm I volunteer at. Normally, I don't feel much anguish seeing mothers with children, as I am certain I will be a mother someday, but lately I have been feeling the pull of biology more strongly. I am still open to the idea of adoption, but I am really hoping that we will get pregnant with a "sticky" pregnancy before next May.

That's the deadline I've set for myself. If we don't have a sticky pregnancy by then, we're going to begin seriously pursuing adoption. I want to be a mother, and I don't want to wait much longer. I've already waited long enough.

Back to what happened today, at the Farm, I finally let on to one of my friends that things haven't been going great, but there were folks nearby that I didn't want to confide in, so I promised to tell her about it later. Whenever later is . . . But I was pretty close to crying (for being in public) and she saw and gave me a hug. That was good. I think it helped. I came home and lit my candle and I am feeling more stable now. I didn't really cry though. I haven't been crying much. But I have been trying to work on my grief. Trying. It's a process. A long process. I just wish I could see the purpose to my pain.

First Family Pregnancy

So, today we had the first announcement of a family pregnancy since our losses. A cousin of DH's. Of course the news came through my FIL (who started pressuring us to get preggo in his wedding toast). I never thought it would be this hard! I never thought I'd be one of those people who had to turn aside questions about when we were going to start a family, because I always planned on starting one right away. But here I am. Here we are. with another reason not to see the in-laws until we have a baby. Not that having a baby will make our relationship with them any easier . . .