Swirling

I haven't blogged for a while... anybody still here to notice?  I have started about 50 posts, all of them cheerful and talking about Christmas.  We had fun... 

But I am having a hard time coming up with a cheerful post because, well, it feels like not being honest.  My thoughts are all swirling around one thing... an elephant that is only in my room. You can't see it, but it is huge. So, since I can't write without talking about it, I decided to talk about it.

Remember when I wrote this post about how content I am with my three Ethiopian kids?  Well, it was true. But what I didn't know was that when I wrote that blog post I was three weeks pregnant. Yup. So... that was pretty cool. I took a test at the urging of my husband (he didn't like how I was nauseous for a week and a half and crying all of the time). I told him it would be negative. I was wrong. 

I have been pregnant before. I loved it. It didn't end well. The first time I had what is called a missed miscarriage. The second time it was ectopic and my Fallopian tube ruptured, necessitating emergency surgery. So I was cautious. I didn't really tell anyone if I could help it. My mom knew, because I needed someone to be soothing. My office mate, Dixie, knew because I all of the sudden stopped eating anything except for crackers and I was falling asleep while typing. She kind of guessed. I didn't really tell anyone else, because I know from experience that 'untelling' people really sucks. There are all the sad, pitying looks when they think you aren't looking. And people who want to know all of the details even though you can't talk about them without crying. And the people who don't say anything and pretend everything is fine, which may be worse. I can't blame people... who knows what to say when shitty things happen? I sure don't. But it is awkward and painful. I didn't want the pity because it tasted so very bitter. 

I knew I was pregnant for a week. Long enough to call the doctor and beg for the earliest possible appointment. Long enough to get a blood test done, which showed great hormones for being about 6 weeks pregnant. And then I got excited. Nathan and I started cautiously talking about names and how we would tell the kids. Who'd have a hard time and how we would help them out. And then, on a cold Sunday morning in the middle of December, I woke up with pain. Not just a little, a lot. Nathan was at the gym working out and I told him he needed to come home because I was scared it was happening again. I was right. I passed out in the bathroom trying to get dressed. We woke up the kids and drove to the hospital 40 miles away. I passed out twice on the way.  I made it as far as the emergency room check in before I couldn't really function anymore. I got an ultra sound that, let me tell you, is extraordinarily painful when one is hemorrhaging   A ssympathetic, middle aged lady told me that my uterus was empty and that I had a massive amount of blood in my abdomen. The took me to the OR and I woke up to see blood slowly dripping into my hand through my IV. No baby, no more Fallopian tubes. 

At first I was too close to being in shock to be sad. Just in a lot of pain.  Then I had the disconcerting experience of all of the pregnancy hormones vacating the premises at once, leaving me a weeping, shaking pile of craziness sitting on the couch.  And now here I am.  Thoughts swirling so fast that I can barely see through them for long enough to concentrate on anything else. Another loss. A baby... with a heartbeat and developing beautifully, I am told, but in the wrong place.  Another little person missing from our lives. 

I am okay now... although I really, really wasn't for a while.   I am tired of feeling feeble, but I still have super low hemoglobin and I am out of breath after walking up a flight of stairs or from my office to my mailbox.  I need a nap after about 5 hours of being awake or I can't function. But I am getting better all the time. I had good medical care and survived. I have three beautiful children.  I have a family that loves me. That doesn't diminish the feeling of loss, but it does make it much more bearable. I do desperately want another baby, but we live in a world of many options. My doctor is recommending that I do IVF. I am undecided, but thinking about it. I recognize that the fact that I know (after a few years of saving up money) that I have that option, is a tremendous thing. I am very blessed.  And very sad. And that, my friends, is an elephant.