Finality

I walked through my doctor's door for the last time today. I needed one last follow-up ultrasound to make sure everything was OK-- which it was-- ovaries all clear of cysts. I then met with the nurse for the last time-- Lisa was with me through my whole year of hell. I knew I was likely to get emotional when I saw her, which of course I did. For one last time the doctor's office witnessed my tears. We talked about why I was crying and much of it had to do with the finality of the visit, of letting go of what I hoped and wanted. I so desperately wanted to have an experience resulting in joy and happiness, instead my experience resulted in pain and anguish. It doesn't help that every other week it seems I find out some one else I know is pregnant and no matter how happy I am for them, it still hurts. It still is a slap in the face, still a reminder of something that'll never happen for me. Lisa did tell me something I needed to hear, she said "You have such amazing strength, you took every punch that came your way and didn't falter. I know that something good is waiting for you around the corner, I can feel it." God, I hope she's right.

Remembrances of Infertility: Miscarriage #1 September 2007

The Shattering of Innocence

I remember getting a positive pregnancy test.

I remember my hands shaking (shaking from excitement and anxiety) when I found out.

I remember telling George, I remember him exclaiming "My boys can swim!"

I remember my Mom crying with happiness when I told her.

I remember my Dad saying "So my little girl is going to be a Mom!"

I remember getting my ultrasound at 7+ weeks.

I remember the look on the technician's face and though she couldn't tell me, I knew...

I remember crying.

I remember the doctor saying things like: "I'm sorry." "Your pregnancy isn't viable. " "It was nothing you did..."

I remember crying.

I remember checking into the hospital for the D&C.

I remember being uncertain how to answer the "Are you pregnant?" question.

I remember the hospital form's signature line for disposal of the "remains" stated "Mother's signature."

I remember crying.

I remember the pain.

In-laws

It has always bothered me my in-laws had not directly checked in on me during my year of hell--particularly after ectopic #1. Of course this speaks to the bigger issue of my relationship (or lack there of ) with them. Further, I felt they weren't being provided adequate information about our "situation." I overheard my husband talking with them on the phone a few weeks back and could immediately tell when he was asked a question related to our infertility-- his demeanor completely changed, he tensed and relayed one worded answers. As of late, I've found it important that certain friends and families, especially those we may rely on for support, have information. Not necessarily all the gory details, but enough information so they could maybe, just maybe, begin to understand where we are coming from. After talking with my husband about his reaction, I realized he simply wasn't ready or able to have the conversation I needed him to have with his parents.

When relaying my frustrations to a friend, she asked: "Well, have you tried calling them?" My response: speechless and intrigue. I call THEM? I reach out to THEM? So blatantly obvious and yet, such a novel concept. So I did. I called them, well not them so much as her: my mother-in-law. After conferring with George, I made the call. We talked for nearly an hour and it was a good conversation. She relayed to me she would always ask how I was doing when talking to George but always felt she couldn't ask to talk to me directly because he seemed to put up a wall as if he was protecting me from her. I told her I thought he was attempting to protect us from each other. He didn't want her to say something to upset me and didn't want her to experience my raw emotion. His need to do this doesn't come from a bad place, it's just what he does and illustrates the differences between our families. My family: throw everything out on the table and deal. His family: ignore and avoid.

At any rate, it was a good conversation and it ended with my telling her to feel free to call me directly any time to chat-- we'll see if she takes me up on it.