I wonder what people would think if I answered their polite inquiries honestly.
How are you?
Fine.
Actually, I feel like I'm in a fog. I'm feeling tired and blue and don't really want to talk to anyone.
How's it going?
Good.
Except for my empty uterus because I am, still and once again, not pregnant. I don't have a baby. I don't know if and when I will.
How's your day?
Okay.
Except that I am feeling absolutely unmotivated to do anything. I'm tired of taking care of other peoples' kids and don't really feel all that invested in whether or not I grade their quizzes.
What's up?
Nothing.
Except for the twin pregnancy I just had evacuated from my uterus. And the incredible growing fibroid that killed my embryos. Oh, and my dying father in law who is waiting for a new heart.
Not that I would say any of that. It's not their fault. They're just trying to be nice.
It's interesting the difference between my first miscarriage and this one. It's like, when the first one happens everyone has a story about how they or someone they know experienced miscarriage. But then when it happens again.... Their pity is evident. Their discomfort is palpable.
One of my classroom aides stopped by today. She told me it was good to see me and that she was sorry. I thanked her and told her we just were feeling pretty tired after everything. Then... there was a silence. I could tell she wanted to say something else but literally didn't know what to say. So I told her: "It's okay. There's not really anything to say." She got kind of teary and said "No, I guess there's not." She said she'd pray for us.
I thought it would be good to get back into my routine and come back. But it's not. Nothing bad happened today. The kids have been sweet- they were really worried when I missed several days in a row. But I'm just unhappy. I don't want to be here. I don't want to do any of the work sitting on my desk. I want to be home with III (who is also at work, so it's not like I could be), cocooned in our little house with our dogs and just our life.
But even then, it all permeates. I'm still bleeding, a constant reminder of what we lost on Friday. III's mom calls with updates about transplant potentials, and III hangs up the phone feeling helpless and sad. Even the dogs, who I love unconditionally, feel like a burden right now. Peanut's energy is boundless and M-dog has been a picky eater. They limit our options when trying to go away- whether it be vacation or to support family.
When I try to identify exactly how I feel, it just feels like a cliche. A hole in my heart. An emptiness in my chest. A all-encompassing ache.
We just need a vacation from our life.
How are you?
Fine.
Actually, I feel like I'm in a fog. I'm feeling tired and blue and don't really want to talk to anyone.
How's it going?
Good.
Except for my empty uterus because I am, still and once again, not pregnant. I don't have a baby. I don't know if and when I will.
How's your day?
Okay.
Except that I am feeling absolutely unmotivated to do anything. I'm tired of taking care of other peoples' kids and don't really feel all that invested in whether or not I grade their quizzes.
What's up?
Nothing.
Except for the twin pregnancy I just had evacuated from my uterus. And the incredible growing fibroid that killed my embryos. Oh, and my dying father in law who is waiting for a new heart.
Not that I would say any of that. It's not their fault. They're just trying to be nice.
It's interesting the difference between my first miscarriage and this one. It's like, when the first one happens everyone has a story about how they or someone they know experienced miscarriage. But then when it happens again.... Their pity is evident. Their discomfort is palpable.
One of my classroom aides stopped by today. She told me it was good to see me and that she was sorry. I thanked her and told her we just were feeling pretty tired after everything. Then... there was a silence. I could tell she wanted to say something else but literally didn't know what to say. So I told her: "It's okay. There's not really anything to say." She got kind of teary and said "No, I guess there's not." She said she'd pray for us.
I thought it would be good to get back into my routine and come back. But it's not. Nothing bad happened today. The kids have been sweet- they were really worried when I missed several days in a row. But I'm just unhappy. I don't want to be here. I don't want to do any of the work sitting on my desk. I want to be home with III (who is also at work, so it's not like I could be), cocooned in our little house with our dogs and just our life.
But even then, it all permeates. I'm still bleeding, a constant reminder of what we lost on Friday. III's mom calls with updates about transplant potentials, and III hangs up the phone feeling helpless and sad. Even the dogs, who I love unconditionally, feel like a burden right now. Peanut's energy is boundless and M-dog has been a picky eater. They limit our options when trying to go away- whether it be vacation or to support family.
When I try to identify exactly how I feel, it just feels like a cliche. A hole in my heart. An emptiness in my chest. A all-encompassing ache.
We just need a vacation from our life.
5 comments:
I'm sorry. Those words seem so inadequate.
I'm sorry -- this is just incredibly hard and my heart goes out to you. I'm not going to say anything platitude-y, but just knpw that your feelings of just. being. tired. are shared.
I remember the "second miscarriage" feeling you describe so well. The first time, some people call and send cards. Some send flowers. The second time, there are less. For me, the third time it really did feel like no one knew what to say, so they just didn't say much at all. It's a very lonely place to be. I hate that you're still waiting, and that no one can do anything to fix it.
xoxo
-K
I can't imagine the feelings you have...I really can't. But that vacation....you do need it. This summer. You mentioned it. Remove yourself from the reminders for a bit. It's not running away, so don't feel that. It's caring yourself, mind and body, and you both need that.
You have every right to feel the way you do. I would be sad and unhappy too! I can't believe how large your fibroid became! It sounds like it needs to be removed, 7cm is no joke!
In the meantime, take care of yourself. It's ok if everything feels sucky and overwhelming. It will eventually get less sucky...thinking of you during this difficult time.
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