Day 1 of Miscarriage 7
The nurse called and told me that my HCG levels have dropped to nothing. The pregnancy is over. I am numb. I can't do anything except sink back onto the pillows exhausted. I can't do anything today. Everything is too hard. Good thing I have chocolate hidden in my file cabinet. (I had to share with my kids.) It doesn't hurt as much as I thought. Maybe it's because I wasn't far along. I didn't have as much time to get attached. But the sad truth is, I wanted all the time I could get. This is going to hurt.
I wonder when it's going to hit me. I listen to self-improvement audio books. I work on my college application. I cook dinner. I tell my friends that I'm not pregnant after all. This is actually only half true because my abdomen is still swollen, I'm still tired and I still can't stand smells. The irony is that I've stopped bleeding, but I'm not through miscarrying. I told my in-laws that it was all over, but it's just beginning. The miscarriage will take as long as the pregnancy.
I met with my bishop so I could get his endorsement to attend BYU-Idaho. I ended up telling him everything. He was upset with the doctors for not being able to help me. He offered me a priesthood blessing, presumably, to make my body behave so I can try again and have children. He was very kind but he doesn't understand. It's too soon.
Two of my nice neighbors came over. They don't know what's going on. One brought some boots for my husband, the other brought bread sticks. He works at a pizza place.
Day 2:
It hurts so much today. I can't bear it. I'm torn between wanting to shop, and distract myself, and knowing that it won't last and the pain will come back. I also don't want to blow the budget. Restaurants and shoe stores are not going to help my financial goals.
A friend texted me a nice birthday greeting. It's not my birthday but I am appreciative. She doesn't know about my troubles. It's hard to tell people.
One friend (or maybe not a friend) offered to listen, and instead tried to point out a silver lining (which, by the way, doesn't exist as far as dead babies are concerned,) by telling me certain details about his sex life. (Insert your own expletive here.) Can I please vomit now? We are no longer friends. Good thing he lives out of town.
I used a gift card from my brother-in-law, (who lives out of town,) to take my kids out for lunch. I can't cook today. I brought salad and bread sticks home. Maybe I won't have to cook tomorrow. My visiting teacher friend, (who is also out of town!) sent me a pizza. And cheesy bread sticks. That was helpful.
I took my kids to the library and hugged them a lot. They are so sweet.
Day 3:
Today is a dreadful day. I can't sleep. My mind won't shut down.
I wish I could talk about this with someone but it's hard to do. My feelings are so raw.
My brain is stuck in a fog. I can't think the way I used to. I can't function like a normal human. I can't solve problems. I can't figure out the best way to drive from one place to another, even though I've been there a score of times. I may not even end up there at all. I can't make decisions. I can't decide whether to get up out of bed in the mornings, or what clothes to wear, or what to eat or how to get help. I can't remember how to be polite. I'm probably going to offend someone.
My closest friends, to whom I tell everything, are not available. One is out of town, one is going out of town, and one lost phone service. I wish I was kidding. Many of my other friends either live out of town or are on a trip. I don't even know how to ask for help anymore. I can't handle one more no. (I haven't gotten that many, but right now, I can't handle them.) I'm not getting support. No one has visited. No one has called. No one has sent flowers and I haven't gotten one hug.
I wish someone would come pick up my kids so I can break my heart in peace. It's odd. I'm crying because I don't get another kid, but I want to send the others away. My friend's daughters usually babysit for me but they're going on vacation. I would laugh if it weren't so sad. It's just me and the bread sticks.
