Todo me parece rojo

Ya desde hace unos días estoy sufriendo de una experiencia que no había esperado: la cólera. El hecho más sorprendente de todo es que no sé de qué estoy enojada y no puedo encontrar tampoco la manera de quitarme de estas emociones. Me siento casi todo el tiempo sumamente enfadada, y la verdad es que estoy a punto de terminar con planes de tener un bebé. No puedo resistir el pensamiento de que este aborto espontáneo pasó por alguna razón u otra, y que es muy posible que yo no sea en buena posición de ser una madre....o sea, que existe un higher power que ya sepa que no soy adecuada. No puedo ni dicer cuán tentada estoy de volver a tomar la píldora y de parar con mis esperanzas de tener bebé, y sólo resignarme a la idea de que no estoy hecha para parir.
Reconozco que esto pueda aparecer bastante fuerte para algunas personas, pero desde mi punto de vista, o sea, con toda la emoción que tengo ahora, me parece a mí completamente normal. Lo peor de todo es que por alguna razón me siento muy enojada con H, y sobre todo, con su trabajo. Claro que sé que ni él ni yo tenemos la culpa de lo que ha pasado, y que no me queda ninguna razón de estar enojada con él, pero todavía me siento así. Es que me siento que he sufrido muchísmio, y he perdido no sólo mi sangre y la sangre de mi bebé, sino también una grande parte de mi alma y de mis esperanzas, y durante todo este trauma, él existe sin haber sufrido nada. No sé...estoy segura de que ha sufrido, claro porque fue también su hijo, pero....
Sería posible que existiera una persona que llevaría más luto sobre la muerte de un hijo que la madre?

Foggy morning reflections

Last night I had dinner (and a martini) with a couple of my friends and I believe it did me a lot of good. I ended up talking on the phone with my good friend A until about 1 in the morning, as well, about so many things, one of which was the miscarriage. I've been really hesitant to talk to anyone about it, because it's been difficult for me, but something I've found to be really interesting is that sometimes talking about it makes me feel better. Why should that surprise me? Not sure, but it does.
I've also been surprised to see that the people who I have the easiest time talking to about it are the ones I don't know that well. I'm not sure if that's a common experience or if I'm just a strange person, but I've definitely noticed it. The new wave of emotion that I've been dealing with has to do with the appropriateness of my mourning; how long should it take? Am I wrong if I start feeling better soon? Why am I eating? I honestly haven't experienced any guilt about what I was doing during the first part of the pregnancy, I mean like if I affected the baby or whatever, but I do strangly experience guilt regarding the amount of time I have spent in mourning. I sometimes feel like I haven't mourned enough, or like I'm wrong to have gone back to school/work so soon. Part of me feels like I owe my unborn child more mourning time.
But then what? Am I supposed to mourn forever? Isn't it healthy, on some level, to have let go of things and to have moved on? I don't know, that's the thing. I don't know what's healthy and I don't know what's acceptable. I even sometimes feel guilty for feeling like I'm ready to start trying for another one again....like I haven't left enough time since the first one....like that's unjust to the one I just miscarried.
I'm not sure what the answer is. I'm not sure when we'll be ready to actually move forward and start trying again. I'm not sure when we should. But even with all that uncertainty, I can certainly say this: I have been forever changed. I'll always know that I once saw that glimpse of excitement because of the first pregnancy, I'll always know that I never got to see my baby's face, and I'll certainly always know that there's no one earth, save maybe H, that will forever love that bean the way that I do.

The slow road to recovery

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night in a state of complete panic. I was in a cold sweat, terrified like I've almost never been before, and breathing quickly and heavily. I can't even explain why. I've had a hard time dealing with all that has happened with the miscarriage and with getting used to being only one person again, but it's going okay. Slowly but surely I'm returning back to myself again, and today was the first time I had a real laugh. It was nice. The weather this morning was gloomy and gray, and that certainly didn't help my emotions, but I forced myself to get up and out of the house, and I went to school to teach. I couldn't quite handle seeing all of my friends just yet, but I did force myself up. I'm happy that I did. It's strange because I go through phases it seems...at times I feel fine, and like a normal person, and at other times I feel totally freaked out and upset. Honestly, I don't remember the last time in my entire life that I cried as much as I have in the last weekend. There's just so much to mourn. Right now my silver lining is something I read on WebMD today: 85% of women who have a miscarriage with their first pregnancy go on to have healthy babies the second time. That's good news to me, but I have to admit that I'm still freaked out about what the second pregnancy will be like. I'm going to be terrified the whole time, I can just see it now. But at the same time, my gut instincts told me that the miscarriage was going to happen with this one, so maybe if my gut instincts say something else for the next one, I won't be freaked out. At least, that's what I am hoping for.
I keep searching through all of the events, wondering what's the lesson I'm supposed to learn from all of this, and I can't seem to find it. That's the most frustrating of all. I have dealt with difficult things in my life before, and my way of dealing with them has always been to find the lesson, hidden wherever it might be, underneath it all. But with this one, I'm stumped. Maybe I was just supposed to get a crash course in what to be grateful for; it did happen on Thanksgiving after all. And the truth is, even with the loss of my first baby, my life is filled with blessings. I have my husband, who is more and more amazing every day. He is totally and completely wonderful, and every day that I know him is just more proof that I made the right decision in marrying him, and my commitment to him grows stronger. I have a loving and caring family that is concerned about me and wants only what's best for me. I have an education I can be proud of, and one that will allow me to provide a beautiful future for my children. There's so much more, so much more. For now, though, I think it suffices to take a deep breath, let it back out into the air, and realize that life is unpredictable and sometimes seems unreasonable. Yet still, there's a rhyme to that lack of reason.
And even in such sadness, the world can still be filled with beauty.
I love you my little bean. I still do. I always will.

Dealing

I keep trying to refocus my brain, but it's nearly impossible. Whenever I get a moment alone, like now for example, I just keep returning to that moment when it all happened. Those six hours, sitting in the dark, staring at the christmas lights, feeling the life being ripped out of me. Now is even worse, too, because it's my real first time alone. I feel almost desperate. H is at work, my dad and his wife just left from their visit, and my phone has completely died. I feel like I'm left without a connection to anyone. I want to try and get something done, but I feel useless and insufficient. I can't focus on anything, and I keep getting stuck in thoughts of the baby, and of what it would have been like to actually meet him in real life. Is it like this for every woman that loses a baby? Does everyone keep seeing herself, sobbing over the toilet, completely unsure of what to do with those bloody remains? I almost can't stand it. I feel okay at times, and then at other times I feel like I'm going to lose my mind. I feel like I can just burst into tears at any moment, and I'm afraid it's going to happen at a particularly inopportune moment. I just wish H would get home. At least when he's here I feel like there's family, or like I haven't completely lost those bonds. I can't even think of words to say about it all. When I try, I'm useless. So I guess I should stop trying.

Gut instincts actually do matter

I debated taking down the stomach picture, since, as is painfully obvious from the revamp of the page, I miscarried the baby this weekend. It was by far one of the worst experiences of my life. It wasn't necessarily physically painful, but the emotional pain is nearly unbearable. It's cathartic. Last night I woke up around 1 a.m. to painful cramps and bright red bleeding, and I knew it was happening. There was no doubt in my mind. I can't say I didn't know it was going to happen before either...I just had this gut feeling. It was terrible, I felt the worst pain, the most intense loss, I've ever felt before. It's hard to imagine that you can be so attached to a life that has only really existed for two or three weeks, but you can. I was. I passed everything, and just sat there, staring into the toilet, not knowing what to do. It was the hardest thing ever to flush, so I didn't. I left it there for almost an hour, waiting until I had the stregnth to finally let go. I mean, there's a lot to let go of. I had to let go of the life that was inside of me. I had to let go of the hope of being a mother. I had to let go of all of the plans and dreams I had for that little bean that I loved so much. It was hard.
It made me think of all of those women who abort their babies, voluntarily, or give them away to other mothers. I can't fathom that. I can't fathom wanting to rid yourself of that precious life, no matter what your situation. Not only that, but all of the times that I've heard of women having miscarriages, I never really got it. I think I've been changed forever. I'll always know that there was once that baby living inside of me, and that I never even got to see his heart beat, or his face. That's terrible. What must it be like to lose a young child, or an adult child? Dear God, I hope I never have to deal with that...for now, I'm dealing with this. It's painful, and it's a bizarre experience. It was just obviously not the right time. It's easy to say that, but not so easy to accept it. Still, I know there's hope. I can still get pregnant and I can still bear children. I'm just terrified, already, that this might happen again. Oh...I hope it doesn't. There's much more to say, but I need a break right now. Every time I think about it, it brings me right back to the first moment it happened, and I can't stay there. I can't stay in that moment. Life is all about moving forward, and letting go of that baby is the first big step for me. Truth be told, I haven't totally completed it yet....but at least I've started.

I said I wouldn't...

Well last night I had a COMPLETE freakout moment because I spotted a bit of dark red blood. I totally freaked out, cried for like 3 hours, and could hardly sleep. Finally, this morning, I came to terms with the fact that I have to "let go and let God", as they say. H has reassured me that if a miscarriage does take place, there is nothing I can do to prevent it, and that it's just nature's way of taking care of things that aren't viable. I can swallow that, but the pain of losing the possibility of being a mommy, something that I've waited so long for, is unbearable. I have been focusing on the positive and trying to stop freaking out. After last night, I said I wasn't going to put the stomach picture up, but now I think I should. I am absolutely positive that everything will be ok, that this pregnancy will be safe, and that I will deliver a healthy baby. And if it doesn't work out that way, then it wasn't the right time, and we can always try again. It's hard for me to accept since I am sort of a total control freak, and this is something that is entirely out of my control. But that's ok, if I have to relinquish the control for the safety of my unborn child, I'll do it. H has been really good with helping me think positively, and he's been so supportive. After the freak out last night, for example, he ran me a long hot bath and made me some calming chamomile tea and then we went to bed. Today I haven't had hardly any spotting or bleeding, and I've so far gone 12 hours without a spot....God willing, that bloodlessness will continue. The good news is that the dark red blood I had last night was just that, DARK red, not bright red, and it was not accompanied by any cramping. I just want to get to the doctor on Friday and have him tell me that everything is normal. For now, however, I'm trying to think positively, I mean, I AM thinking positively, and trying to be excited about the baby. Although, I have to admit that being excited is hard because I don't want to experience again what I did last night. Either way, if you're reading this, please keep me and my precious little bean in your thoughts and prayers, and send me some positive energy. I want us ALL to think positively and be grateful, ya que es el día de la acción de gracias, that we're bringing a new life into this world.

I NEED to hear that heartbeat

Okay, so maybe I am freaking out a bit. I think I'm kind of freaking out because nothing really feels different. I haven't really had any symptoms (other than the headache, missed period, brown spotting, and hormonal breakdown last week), and I can't feel anything inside of me. Is it like this for everyone? I have almost wrapped my mind around the idea of it, but it's just so hard to swallow. Without feeling some sort of real difference, it's hard to imagine that so much is happening, or has happened, or will be happening. But honestly, I am starting to freak out. I've been all day long on the WebMD forums, reading other people's experiences and trying to equate them with mine, but I can't. I think the bottom line is that every pregnancy is unique to every person, so it's hard to compare them. I just want everything to be okay. I've never felt like this before, I mean, so freaked out about how healthy I am. I keep reading about all the things I should and shouldn't eat, all the exercises I can and can't do, all the daily things I should avoid. I'm just so obsessed with keeping this baby safe and sound, and delivering a healthy baby, I think that should at least be worth something.
I really do love you, my little bean.

Just the normal freakout

I'm not freaking out. I'm really not freaking out. I'm just kind of freaking out because I don't know what to expect. I have my first doctor's appointment on Friday of next week (11/30) but it's not an ultrasound visit (dangit!). I just have a consult appointment to make sure everything is going okay and to set up the ultrasound. I want the ultrasound now! All of the sources I have read about where the development should be right now are saying that the baby's heartbeat can already be detected on an ultrasound, so that's why I want one. I don't think I'll really believe it until I hear that heartbeat. I feel fine, I haven't had any major symptoms. Yesterday I had this terrible headache, almost a migraine really, and according to my sources that is a sympton of first trimester pregnancy. It was funny though, because I was terrified to take anything because I wasn't sure what was okay to take. So I dealt with this miserable headache all day and then when I got home, H told me to just take some Tylenol, that I would be fine (even though I'm not worried about if I'll be fine, I'm worried about if my little baby will be okay). So I did, and it didn't help much, but then H suggested that I drink some tea. Since I found out about the pregnancy, I have been trying to cut out all caffeine, since it's recommended that pregnant women steer clear of caffeine. According to H, it's more stressful to my body to cut out caffeine cold turkey than it is to just use less until I can ween myself off of it. I already don't drink as much as it is. I don't even drink coffee all day, just maybe twice or three times a week, and I drink hot tea with breakfast more than anything. But the sources say that it's safe to have up to four cups of coffee a day when you're pregnant, so I know I'm not coming close to that. Still, the tea H gave me last night didn't really help. I took a long hot bath and then ended up going to sleep around 7:30. Today the headache is gone...I think I was just so exhausted and so caffeine free that the headache was inevitable. The good news though: today I feel fine. Even better: today I feel pregnant. Hehe.
Coming tomorrow: the first stomach picture.

The failure was actually a failure

Yes...it's true! I can't even believe it myself, but I actually am pregnant!! I found out yesterday when I visited the infirmary on campus, just on a whim. I missed a period, which kind of clued me in to it, but I was so resistant to accept it. Even now, after all of my obsessing, I feel hesitant to just say, okay, it's true. It's so hard to believe, especially when nothing really feels different. I mean, inside I feel different, and I've had this AWFUL headache all day, but other than that I feel pretty much like myself. I mean, physically anyway. My first consultation appointment is next week and then I'll get to schedule the real appointment: the ultrasound. I just want to hear that heart beating, I'm going crazy to hear it. I'm trying so hard not to freak out, but the truth is that every possible thing is running through my mind. My gut feeling is that this will all go well, the pregnancy, the birth, and the baby's life. Wow, the miracle of life is amazing. I never knew it. I really, really never did. I love you little heartbeat I can't hear. I love you.

That's right, un cero

Bueno, hoy es el primer día que escribo en español. No sé por qué, pero es que es la primera vez que me han venido las ganas, pues es posible que sea por eso que lo hago. Como indica el título, recibí un cero como nota, pero no fue en un examen de clase sino en un examen de embarazo. ¿Cómo es que me sorprendió? Aquí estoy pues, delante de toda una clase de estudiantes (que claro están también tomando un examen) y me pusé a pensar sobre el hecho de que ayer cumplí mi cuarta vez tomando un examen de embarazo y suspendiéndolo. Es ridículo porque no sé por qué carajo tengo esta obsesión que me ha comenzado a morder como un bicho. Por alguna razón u otra me estuve diciendo "no lo toma, no lo toma" porque creo que en algún nivel, ya sabía la verdad: que me voy a llevar más meses sin la esperanza de tener niño. Pero la verdad es que me gustaría mucho que me fueran las ganas porque no puedo quitar estas ideas de mi cabeza. O sea, gasto casi todo mi tiempo en no sé qué tipos de pensamientos sobre cuán maravilloso sería tener un bebé. Es irónico también porque no estoy muy segura de qué esté pensando, o sea, no hay pensamientos específicos que me vengan a la cabeza sino una selección de niñerias sobre....no sé. Creo que sería mejor idea dejar de pensarlo...bueno, por lo menos se dice que es exactamente en este punto cuando parece el milagro del embarazo.
Verémos lo que pasa.

I've got dreams. Dreams (I don't want) to remember.

That's an allusion to an Otis Redding song, in case you're wondering where the heck the parentheses fit in to all this.

And today, for me, it's true.

I a crazy dream last night. It was one of those dreams where you feel like you have actual physical sensations, and they stay with you all day long. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I was looking at an ex-boyfriend's Facebook page last night (I don't even know why). But still, that sensation is pervading my morning. I want it gone.

I admit, I have no regrets. I have nothing in my life that I would do differently or change. Now, that being said, I would not in any way like to return to those times in my life when I was making the decisions that I could possibly regret one day. And after that dream last night, I feel like I did. I feel like I revisited painful and sorrowful memories.

But at least, when I woke up, there was my H. My amazing, loving, hard-working, faithful, sincere and simple H. How I got so lucky I have no idea.

One of my weakest points is always trying to see the best in everyone. I'm convinced that this is the reason why I had so many unfruitful relationships and why I got my heart broken so many times. I can always find at least one positive thing in anyone...well, mostly anyone. After looking over the Facebook page last night, it got me thinking about this.

Obviously, back when I was dating this complete tool, I didn't realize how awful he was. But then last night, after reading over his page and looking at pictures of his fat beer belly (see side image), I was SO happy that we broke up...and so perturbed about what I ever saw in him.

This wave of confusion and disgust just overtook me.

But then I woke up with H. I started thinking about it again, thanks to this dream, and I realized something rather monumental: I did see something good in that guy, and I did see something good in all the other guys. I mean, not just something good, but something that I wanted in a man. And all those idiots showed me how to find exactly what I wanted, how to REQUIRE that I be given what I deserve. So, I guess I have them to thank, in a way, for bringing me to H. I can look back at each one of them, and think about which trait they had that was most attractive to me, and I can find that trait in H. This is totally true...it sucks that I learned the hard way, but it takes lots of demanding, and lots of NOT settling, to eventually find that knight in shining armour who's lost somewhere in the woods, looking for his princess.

I think that's really how it happens. We're both lost, and then our paths collide, and after a long process of unveiling, we realize that we've found exactly what we were looking for.

With H, I did.

So maybe I don't want to remember the dream from last night, but should I really want to forget the blood, sweat and tears (especially tears) that I put into finding my superb husband? I don't think so. No, I think that those are dreams I should never, never forget.

Baby booties at Target

I was walking through Target today and I couldn't help but look at all the baby stuff. It's frustrating because I often wonder if it is really that time in my life, or if I have just convinced myself that it is, and then consequently become obsessed with the idea of having a child. I found myself today trying to imagine what that moment will feel like, the moment that I find out that I am pregnant. I think it will be something like the day H asked me to marry him, or maybe the moment we left our reception, and it was just the two of us alone, a married couple, for the first time. It's like the beginning of a new phase, a new chapter digamos, but it's also a forced beginning at the same time. I reflect a lot on how prepared I am to be a mother and to raise a child, and I can't say how I feel exactly. There are days when I feel like I can be a great mother, and there are days, or moments--like when I am spouting random obscenties, for example--when I feel like that chapter is still inchoate. Today, though, I feel ready. The booties didn't make it any better either.

There are things I don't understand....

Yeah, like that should come as a big surprise. I know. But right now I'm dealing with extreme levels of frustration due to the fact that it is appearing impossible to get pregnant. So this is what I don't understand: how is it that irresponsible teenagers are popping out babies left and right and I, a responsible and mature adult who is more than ready to start her family, cannot seem to get pregnant? I mean, sure, we have only really been trying for three (maybe four) months, but really. What is so difficult? I read this article on WebMD.com about trying to get pregnant, and it said that many women are surprised that when they decide that they are ready to have children, it takes them quite a while to get pregnant. I laughed at that about two and a half months ago, because I thought that was ridiculous. But now....now...I am surprised. I guess that's the whole irony of it. I always think I understand everything better than everyone else, when the reality is that I don't. Still, what got this whole thing started was that lovely mobile that I bought from Ikea about six months ago. I thought H would be appalled by it, but the truth is that when he saw it, he said: "whenever you're ready"...I mean, that was music to my ears, because I think I've been ready now for years. At least. But now, that damn mobile is swinging around in my closet and every day that I get dressed, I stare at it in complete distress. Maybe I should just take it down.....but then I'll feel like I'm giving up hope. Besides, I need some excitement, and the excitement that I get just from seeing that mobile. Well, it can't even be described.