Saturday, June 16, 2012

Happiness and Hope

It's hard to believe that just under two months ago I was filled with so much happiness. Happiness, joy, and excitement for my little girl.

I often wonder if I'll ever be truly happy again.

It's easy for everyone to say that they know it will happen for us or that next time things will be just fine, but how the hell the do they really know? Don't get me wrong it's good to be optimistic. The last couple months of my pregnancy I was. When I woke up in recovery I was. I was so happy to have heard that my daughter was still alive. I actually got to hold my living baby girl in my arms. I was so happy and so hopeful that she was going to pull through.

I want that happiness back, I want the hope back.

Grief sucks!

I have had quite a few days this past week and a half where the grief was really getting the best of me. I hate it when it consumes me to the point I can't even think straight and want something that will just take all of my pain away. I don't handle stress well, so what do I do? I turn to my husband and take it out on him. I expect him to be there to comfort me and make me feel instantly better, not thinking once about how he must be feeling. I get angry because I assume that because he isn't grieving the same as me that he just wants to forget Evelynn and move on. I also get angry when he tells me that he doesn't know what to do for me and that maybe I should see a counselor, take my Xanax, or get on antidepressants. Hearing that makes me even more angry. I even got to the point that I felt that maybe the best thing for me would be to just check myself in at the mental hospital because I am sick of feeling this way and feeling so alone. Or just feeling that maybe meds wouldn't be the worst thing because I could just numb all my pain away. Fear was even setting in that maybe we aren't strong enough as a couple to get through this a second time.

Grief can be so hard on a relationship. We got through it last time and I know we can get through it again. We have since had a really good talk about everything. I am going to try and get in with a new grief counselor or even just start seeing my grief group coordinator once a week because she said she would be willing to talk with me as well. I have also decided that once he goes back to work I will try to be less stubborn with the whole taking meds if needed thing.

I know I need to get a handle on it because the oh woe's me pity party I keep throwing for myself isn't going to get me anywhere.

This quote seemed quite fitting to how I felt this past week:

"The tragedy of life is not death...but what we let die inside of us while we live."

I wrote that first half a few days ago. I was clearly feeling really pathetically sorry for myself. 

Then Thursday happened:

First, a blm friend texted me to let me know she was still thinking about me and that she is always there for me if I ever need someone to talk to. She has her rainbow now and I honestly thought that she moved on and forgot about me. I really thought that since she was finally in a better place in her life that she didn't care about me, my babies, and the heartache I was feeling. What a crappy friend I am. Kristin if you read this-that text meant so much to me.

Second, my friend, my coworker, who was due 4 days ago, also texted me saying that she was just thinking about me. That's always nice to hear.

Third, talked for 2 hours on the phone with a girl from Illinois who has been a gestational carrier 3 times, twice with a singleton and once with twins. She was so awesome to talk with. Definitely the type of person you want to have as your carrier. I learned so much from her and not just about the law, money, ins., and medical side of it, but also about her relationships with the intended parents. I want to be able to have a good relationship with my carrier so it was good to hear about her experiences with each couple she carried for. She even told me she would get in touch with her friend who went through the gestational carrier process a couple of years ago and see if she would speak with me about her experience as an intended parent. Erin if you read this-you totally made my night.

I also got mine and Evelynn's medical records. I tried to make sense of them the best I could. Wouldn't say anything about reading them made me feel "good" but glad I have them now.

Then Friday happened:

I finally made it in to see my Ob for my c-section/uterine rupture follow up. I was really worried about it. It sucks to go back to your Ob's office, for the second year in a row at that, after you lost a baby and have to see other pregnant women or babies and know that should be you.

I had a lot to talk to her about. I needed to get on birth control. I had to tell her about our visit with the fertility clinic in MN, that she most likely can do all my pre- egg retrieval stuff, that we have a potential carrier, and that if everything goes as planned we can do a transfer in January. I asked her about my rupture. I have been talked to about it several times but don't remember much of anything that was said. Then I had to ask the big one, the big "how do you truly feel about me getting pregnant again?"

I had asked my Peri here in Alaska that question the other week and she still highly advised me against it. My Ob on the other hand said that my Peri from the fetal surgery really thought I could have a good outcome with a pregnancy after rupture(PAR) and she thought so as well. She was so optimistic about it. She really thinks that if I were to wait 2 years, be on hospital bed rest at 28 weeks on, and deliver no later than 34 weeks, that things will work out. 

Just hearing her say that she truly believes we could have a successful PAR work out made me feel that even if I never get pregnant again it will be because I made the decision not to, not because the doctor told me not to.

We are still going to go ahead with the gestational carrier though, it truly is the safest route.

So even though my husband had to leave to go back to work yesterday, the stream events that have occurred the last two days have somehow left me with this sense of hope, maybe even a little happiness. Not sure how long it will last, but I'll take it.


  1. Becky, I think about you all the time. I wonder how you're doing and if you are having a happy, or at least peaceful day, or a stuck-in-the-muck kind of day. I wish you more peaceful ones, and I know they will come over time.

    I think pity parties are an important part of grieving. You need to feel down, and sad and angry and all that other nasty, hurtful stuff. It's your right. You've had more disappointment and loss than most. It's not nice, and it feels awful...but that's what grieving is. It's hurt, hurt, hurt...until you can begin to let it go. Burying it, or pretending doesn't help.

    I think the problem is only when you don't ever feel anything else but hurt. And from what you've written here, that's not you. You do feel hopeful, even if it's only sometimes. You do feel lucky to have had Evelynn and Liam in your life. You do feel love for your husband and appreciative of your friends. Those are important to recognize in yourself. Yes, you're sad, and down and angry...but you're lots of other things too.

    Antidepressants aren't so bad. They've helped a lot of people, including me. They can make coping during a really hard time in your life a little easier. Talk it over with your doctor or mental health professional and take them if you think you need them. Taking them doesn't mean you're just means you're hurting and willing to accept help in all its forms.

    I won't be one of those people who will promise you 'next time will be better'. I have absolutely no idea about that. I just hope that it holds more lasting joy than what has come before it, and that you are strong enough to cope and heal if it doesn't.

    All my best, always.

  2. I am not stretching anything when I say I think about you every day. It is not lost on me that Evelynn should be 8 weeks old tomorrow and all of the things you SHOULD be experiencing. I think about how you are pumping Evelynn's milk and what an amazing gift that is, but how I wish it was for Evelynn. I'm so sad that you aren't writing of the challenges and joys of parenting a living rainbow baby. I think a out how hard it must be just to start each day and how crippling grief is. I think about you, I think about Evelynn and Liam and your husband and I hurt for you all. I remember, I won't forget, that is my promise to you.

  3. I'm still thinking about you too and wishing you well. I love you quote, it rings true in many ways.

    Sending you love from across the pond.

  4. Literally think of you daily, prob three or more times a day. Wondering why, how, etc. Still blows my mind that you are going thru this again. And I'm just so sorry. I cannot imagine the pain.

  5. I never know what to even say, but I still think of you daily as well.

  6. Even though we don't know each other.... I still think of you too and keep looking here on blogger for your updates.


  7. Like everyone else above, I, too, think about you every day. My husband even asks me for updates about you, and mentioned you before the lights went out last night. Even though we are all so far away, we hold you up in our hearts.

    And the thing is, from my perspective, you deserve a pity party now and then. All of us do. Grief is messy and complicated and takes the time and the path that it takes. No one can make it go away, and for God's sake, this second round is so new for you. I don't think it matters that you've done it before. You grieve today not only for Liam, but for your rainbow, a double dose of innocence lost, the potential loss of being pregnant and having it go right under your watch. As my counselor likes to remind me, sometimes this is too much to bear, and it's ok to sit with the weight of that sometimes.

    Another thing to consider is that there is a fine line between grief and depression, and all of us BLMs are extra prone to PPD. I myself was diagnosed 6-months post-loss, and I thought I had a good grasp on where I was emotionally. It pissed me off to be diagnosed, but at the same time, the relief of weekly counseling has done wonders. If you need the support of a counslor or need to use meds as a tool, that is every bit ok.

    Be gentle with yourself, and feel the love and hugs across the miles...

  8. My husband deals with grief so very differently that it is truly like he is from Mars and I am from Venus. Sometimes it still threatens to tear us apart, maybe it always will but we have and will persevere and I think that is the key. Noone has a crystal ball and your right they cant tell you the future, I dont like those assumptions either. I do know that you are entitled to as many pity parties as you want, to be as crazy as you want, to be sad, to be depressed, - to feel whatever it is that you feel It is all part of grief and there is no right way or no wrong way to deal with that.Hope is a shining light and I do find that it keeps us going.I think of you and your beautiful babies all the time.xoxoxo

  9. I don't think you were feeling pathetically sorry for yourself at all. Given all that you have been through it's amazing how well you are doing and how strong you have been (even though I'm sure you don't feel like it). I'm glad you had even the smallest bit of hope and happiness and hope that more and more creep back into your life.

  10. I searched out your blog this morning, another father's day, because I was thinking of you, your husband and your beautiful children. I wish you peace today and always.

  11. Becky, I think of you every day as well. I am tearing up right now as I type this. There is no reason in this world that makes sense as to why this happened/is happening. I am thrilled that you have found hope and a shred of happiness, and I am so glad that you recognized it and are hanging on to it. It sounds like you have a good head on your shoulders, and are doing what feels right for you on your journey through your grief. You are such a great mom to your two sweet angels and honour them every day with your love.

    Sending you love from Canada,


  12. Thinking of you and hoping that even the littlest bit of hope can creep back into your heart at times. Sending you love, mama and thinking of your beautiful babies, Liam and Evelynn.

  13. I think of all you everyday. Many Hugs.

  14. I've been lurking here, but was really touched by this posting. I have been thinking of you & your family as well. I wish you so much strength as you continue on this journey.

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  16. I found your blog a few weeks ago, just after you had lost your beautiful Evelynn. I think about you very often. I do not think that any mother who has lost a child could read your story, see the pictures of your children and then ever truly forget about you. It makes me so very sad and so very angry that you have lost both of your children. There are no words, but I guess everybody is still trying to find them.
    I'm with Emily that it's not possible to promise you that next time it will all go well. It should all have gone well the first time and it should all have gone well the second time. Life isn't fair, as you know far too well. But I do hope with all my heart that some day soon you will hold your third child and that that child will stay with you, alive and well, forever and ever.


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