Missing My Babies

37 weeks. I would have been 37 weeks pregnant this week. I should have my twins in my arms at this very moment. I am so sad that I lost it all. How cruel to take a baby from a mother in any way, shape or form. I feel like my babies were taken in a way that was meant to hurt and torture me as much as possible. Slowly and methodically, fate kept the losses coming. Just as I would come close to accepting one horrible truth, the ground would drop out from under me yet again. I miss Robin... I hate that day in December when Dr. J said he couldn't find the second heartbeat. And Rosa.... Rosa, Rosa, Rosa... I miss her so much. Watching her make my belly dance, those were the best times. I would wonder if she had a treadmill in there with her. She moved so much! Then to stand by and feel so helpless as things went so wrong... I hate that no one could do anything to save her. Why couldn't we save her? Why couldn't I save her? 

I miss my babies. 

Running on the Boardwalk

I'm out for a run on the boardwalk right now. The breeze is glorious. The sounds of the ocean are like music to my ears. My body falls naturally in rhythm with my old, familiar stride. My muscles ache from the previous workouts, but that only fuels the motivational fire within. Sounds delightful, doesn't it?

My thoughts, however, betray me. I see running mothers and fathers pushing their babies in jogging strollers. I see families out for a bike ride with patriotic streamers trailing from their handle bars. I see people smiling and laughing as they enjoy the beautiful day. They all hurt my heart. Not because they are happy and have what I want, but because I am sad and don't have what I want. 

These are all reminders that I shouldn't be here right now. I should be in the hospital. By Rosa's bedside. Watching her fight for her life. Watching her win. 

My friends and family were so concerned about me spending time at family events over the past five weeks. Jack's first birthday party, Emily's baptism, visiting Mel with Liam bouncing along in his exersaucer. "Are you sure you want to go? Isn't that going to be too hard?" I insisted that I would be fine. And I was. Admittedly, there were moments that stung. I couldn't stay in the room when they sang Happy Birthday to Jack. I thought about Rosa while I held Emily, and wished that the two cousins could grow up together. I had to cut my visit short when I reached my threshold for baby talk towards adorable Liam. But I knew I wanted to be there for each of those moments. Infertility already robbed me of so many moments like this. Chances to see my friends and family as the beautiful mothers they are. I won't let that happen again. 

Even these strangers at the shore... I think it is beautiful the way they are enjoying their time together with their families. I just wish I weren't here to see it. I wish I were with my growing family, even if it meant being in a hospital for a year and watching Rosa go through the fight of her life. I wish she pulled through...

But she didn't. She is in heaven instead. And I am here wishing I could go to her. Someday, I know, I know. But today hurts like hell. And as another mother running with her baby in her BOB jogger passes me, I think to myself, "Do you know how lucky you are??" I hope she does. 

In the Clouds

John & I are down the shore for the weekend. I woke up completely miserable, and feeling so heavy and sad. I miss my baby. 

I went for a walk to work out some of my emotions. I was out there for over three hours just wandering around. There were roses everywhere! I walked to the other side of the bay, through two towns, through a park, and on two boardwalks. 

While I was at the park, I spent some time on the swings. I haven't been on a swing in years. When I was a kid, I would swing for ever and ever. I just loved it. As I was swinging, I was thinking about Rosa. Maybe if I swung high enough, I could reach my feet out towards heaven and get closer to my babies. It made me feel better to try. 

While I was swinging, I looked at the clouds and saw a huge, fluffy cloud. It had three heart shaped holes in it... I instantly thought of Rosa, Robin & Frostie Ninja. I think they were there, saying hi to their mama <3

I love you, babies <3 

Postpartum OB Appointment

I was so concerned that I hadn't been angry at all since losing Rosa. With all of my losses over the past few years, I had always kicked off my grieving cycle with a healthy dose of anger before settling into sadness, despair and depression. This time, I skipped right over anger and thought it was odd. Well, I found my rage yesterday. All it took was a few pokes from the universe to remind me of how utterly infertile I am.

Poke #1: John & I are members of a group that has been selected to perform at a convention in December. The application process is rigorous and acceptance into the convention is a huge deal. Yesterday was the deadline for committing to the event. It involves traveling with the group for four days before the holidays out of town and a $2000 financial commitment. The only thing I could think of was "how will this impact our cycling plans?" I cannot believe that after almost four years of trying to conceive that we are still thinking like this!!!

Poke #2: I was nervous about my postpartum OB appointment yesterday for lots of reasons. I knew it would be hard and painful, and I was looking forward to having it behind me. Just get it over with. I walked into the waiting room and the first thought through my head was, "this is the first time I've ever been in this office and not been pregnant." I miss Rosa so, so much. 

Poke #3: I was relieved to see that there were no pregnant ladies or babies in the waiting room when I arrived. I thought I dodged a bullet... until I heard a tiny little voice in the back. A pregnant lady and her toddler walked through the back door and plopped down in the waiting room. Will it ever be my turn to have a child that I don't have to give back? 

Poke #4: I tried to distract myself from the pregnant lady and her child by watching the TV in the waiting room. The Real was on, and they were doing a pajama party segment. Cute, right? Well, it was until their playful game of truth or dare. One of the personalities was dared to call her husband on the show and tell him she was pregnant. She wasn't pregnant, but how fun would that be to play a little prank?! To say the least, I was not amused. 

Poke #5: I was sort of holding it together until the receptionist called me up to the desk. She handed me a clipboard with a postpartum depression questionnaire.

You've gotta be effing kidding me!!! How exactly am I expected to respond to this bullshit?? I was so angry to have to look at this piece of paper. I wanted to tear it up, crumple it, stomp on it, spit on it, burn it, destroy it. I refused to answer the questions and told my doctor that it was not appropriate. I suggested that they have a modified questionnaire for situations like mine. I mean, for crying out loud, when 1 in 160 pregnancies end in stillbirth, I can't be the first or last to have this happen in their office. Get your shit together, assholes!!

The Details of the Appointment: I finally thought that this was enough, and asked the receptionist if there was an empty exam room where I could wait. They were actually about to call me back, thank god. The nurse asked if I wanted to go on the scale. I was actually curious to see my weight, so I jumped on. I am back to my pre-pregnancy weight. Slightly under because I have no muscle mass. She took my blood pressure and it was normal. Then I was given instructions to disrobe and put the gown on. The doctor came in shortly after. She was sympathetic about our loss and everything we had been through. She asked a lot of questions of me, and answered all of my questions. She was apologetic about the questionnaire and that I wasn't immediately seated in the exam room. I passed the physical exam and was given clearance for running (thank god!!), swimming, and intercourse. All exercise restrictions have been lifted. 

Poke #6: We discussed our future family building options. Dr. C doesn't think we need to wait six months to try again like Dr. Ntoso had recommended. Dr. C recommends waiting two cycles at minimum. There was talk about testing our embryos, hoping the placenta results were informative, and then considering adoption. Depending on the pathology report, she advised us to be open minded to the possibility of a gestational carrier. These are both amazing opportunities and paths to parenthood, but.... ouch. I have always had them on the back of my mind, but never invested much thought because I want to believe that our embryos can do this. That my uterus can do this. It is extremely painful to be at the point where we are facing another significant loss. At the end of the day, I just want a healthy baby. But it would be a great loss for me to give up the chance of carrying my child. 

Poke, poke, poke... I was full of rage by the time I left. Infertility sucks!!!! I hate this so, very much!!! 

So I bought these plates at the local goodwill store. 

And John & I blew off some steam by smashing the shit out of them. It felt amazing to unleash on those unwitting, ugly plates. Assholes!!!

I also pounded the pavement and went for my first run back. It felt incredible! I cannot describe how good it was for me. I could think again! I felt centered and like me for the first time in months.