Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Passing time

It's amazing what a little trauma can do to a girl. I've spent the last 8 days panicked that I'm going to start bleeding heavily again - simply because no one adequately reassured me that I wouldn't. Not the OB, not the discharge nurse, not the nurse who called on Monday to do a cursory check-in (and I do mean cursory - I could tell she was barely listening to my frenzied requests for reassurance).

I'm sure that I'm fine. I'm sure the light bleeding/spotting that's still going on is totally normal (I bled/spotted for a total of 18 days after my first miscarriage and D&C) and won't turn into anything more than this. Not at this point.

But the thing is, I've hemorrhaged twice since that first D&C four years ago. I'm no longer blissfully ignorant. About anything at all.

I suppose the good part of all of this is that I've been far too preoccupied with my uterus and what's coming out of it to think too much about what I've lost.

It comes in waves. But I push the waves back with my persistent preoccupation with my own health. I can't think about the babies that are no longer inside me because I have me to worry about now. I don't have to wonder and worry about them anymore. I know where they are. And I know where they aren't. It's me I'm not so sure about.

Friday was a bad day. I zombied my way through the morning and crashed spectacularly in a heap of sobs around noon. I cried like I haven't cried since Thomas died. Maybe even before that. I have 5 babies to mourn for now, and that kind of sorrow requires a flood of tears I was shocked by. I didn't know I could cry like that and still survive.

I don't know how we do it, we parents who have lost children. I could have kept crying until I died, so intense was the sorrow and rage. But I didn't. I cried until I felt I could stop, then I did. I ate lunch, showered and carried on with my day.

Since then I've managed to keep the focus on me. I'm sure it's a defense mechanism. I'm not stupid. I know I'm just fooling myself with this pathological preoccupation with spot watching.

But this is just the way it is right now. Grief is a weird and messy thing, and the one thing I've learned is that you just have to let it play out the way it wants to. Putting parameters on it and trying to make it something other than what it is never works.

So I'm spot watching until my heart can bear to think about our two little tigers again.

14 comments:

Artblog said...

Big huge hugs from me, so very sorry... :(

Denise said...

((((hugs)))) - I'm sorry that the medical staff didn't ease your mind. You would think they would show more compassion if they knew your history.
I'm not sure if your province has the Nurses Hot Line or not but they are very good at answering questions here. It might be one way to put your mind at ease about the spotting.

niobe said...

Grief is a weird and messy thing, and the one thing I've learned is that you just have to let it play out the way it wants to. Putting parameters on it and trying to make it something other than what it is never works

Just wanted to let you know that these words have helped me. Thank you.

B said...

Trauma is the word.
I don't know that many people know the pain of loss that you have lived in the way that you do.

I hope you have some time to sit in your beautiful garden with your beloved and cats.

I cry for you.

wannabe mom said...

I am sorry that grief continues to have you in its ugly grips, and that you have to deal with the loss of your babies on top of worrying about what your body is going through right now. I hope that you are able to get some answers, soon. Hugs to you.

Angela said...

I wish there was something I could say or do.

Wish these stupid internet (((hugs))) were real.

Sherry said...

A heap-load of warm hugs coming your way once again ...

tonya said...

I am so very sorry for your loss. I have had three myself, so I can relate to some of what you're going through. I also got insanely lucky in that I now have two kids (just forewarning you in case you check out my blog or profile).

Hoping your body begins to heal soon. I know that the spiritual part takes a LOT longer to recover (if that's even the right word). You are in my thoughts.

kate said...

Big ((((hugs))))...

Chili said...

Thinking of you! {{{HUGS}}}

kimberm_71 said...

(((hugs)))

meg said...

"I have 5 babies to mourn for now, and that kind of sorrow requires a flood of tears I was shocked by. I didn't know I could cry like that and still survive."

I understand this so much--I have done that crying. I'm so sorry about your losses.

MB said...

Hugs...

Patience said...

I just want you to know I'm thinking of you... x