in loving memory of Colin Michael lost to miscarriage 08.17.00
activism\\emotional mansion\\journal v1.0\\journal v2.0\\links\\main\\mission
journal v2.0 |
mis-car-riage
1. Premature expulsion of a
nonviable fetus from the uterus. Also called spontaneous abortion.
2. The act of bringing forth before the time; premature birth.
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10 > 11 > 12 > 13 > 14 > 15
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If I could have a lifetime wish
A dream that would come true
I'd pray to God with all my heart
For yesterday and you
A thousand words can't bring you back
I know because I've tried
And neither will a million tears
I know because I've cried
You left behind my broken heart
And happy memories too
But I never wanted memories
I only wanted You.
~Unknown
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Tuesday, August 28, 2001
She walks to the edge of
the cliff and stares down into the blackness of the abyss. For a moment she
smiles, because just maybe she's conqured the mountain. Thinking back on all of
the stones she's grabbed a hold of and thrown down into that abyss, the smile
lingers. And then the sky starts to darken even as a single solitary tear runs
down her cheek. And just as suddenly as her thoughts of victory appeared,
someone she can not see sweeps her legs out from under her and she falls in the
abyss, arms openned wide.
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EntryEleven
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Thursday, September 27, 2001
Ah, my journal. How I
have missed you so. I apologize for not adding to this. For those who have been
faithful readers, I thank you. I hope that my entries have helped you to know
that you are not alone and that the feelings and thoughts that you have are
perfectly normal and acceptable.
Things have been very hectic lately. I
just took an hpt this morning. AF is 9 days late but apparently not for any
reason other than my body is going crazy. In other words the hpt showed only one
line instead of two. I have since decided that I am never going to take one
again. It is too discouraging.
It is amazing how you can believe that you
are feeling better and that the good days are far outweighing the bad ones, and
then out of the blue (although you knew it was coming all along) something hits
you hard and sends you hurtling backwards to what feels like square one. My
great big shove came in the form of a now ex-best friend (I will call her EBF
from now on). On August 28th, 2001 my good mood ceased to be. Yes, it was 11
days after the one-year anniversary of Colin�s death, but that did not seem to
stop her from trampling all over my feelings.
I had lived through the
anniversary. Imagine that. I do not know if I just pretended that it did not
happen, or what? I was quite numb for the entire day, but did not end up crying
at all. DH took the day off of work, and so did I. We spent the day together, on
an extended date. He watched me closely all day.
For a while now, I have
realized that my EBF and I do not have anything in common. We have different
philosophies about raising children (this did not use to be true). I have lost a
baby and she is just too caught up in her own little world to care about
anything other than herself. I have known this about her for years. I just
thought that she cared that is all. When she first had her little girl, I took
over all of our joint online duties to give her a break. I was working over 50
hours a week, but I figured it would be nice for her not to have to worry about
any of the extra stuff. She had a really tough time of it after her daughter was
born. She was very depressed and they even considered medicating her for a
while. She was stressed about money, as every new parent seems to be. I figured
I would give her a break and do things for her until she got to where she could
resume her responsibilities. Imagine my surprise when I kept these
responsibilities indefinitely. When we lost Colin Michael, I really needed a
break from everything. Instead she and I decided to do another site together
about motherhood (stuff about her daughter) and loss (awareness about PIL which
I really want to do). So, here I was amid my grieving adding another site onto
my already crowded plate. She said she would help with this one. How stupid I
was to believe her. You would think that if someone knows that you are hurting,
but does not know what to do for you except listen, that she would figure out
that maybe taking some of the responsibility that you had taken from her when
she had gotten pg, that she might have thought to have the common courtesy to
take these things back so that you could grieve for your dead baby. Apparently
her world does not involve helping others.
I had a break at work on
Tuesday (August 28, 2001) afternoon and found her on AIM and we started to chat.
She did not mention a word about anything to me. Just talked about stupid
mundane stuff that I have realized I really do not care about anymore. Anyway, I
checked my email while we were chatting and found an email from her. No big
deal, right?
"I'm not gonna take a nap after all. I think I fell
asleep for half an hour earlier (off and on) while [her daughter] played in her
room LOL.
Life is pretty good. I didn't want to tell you by email, but I
really want you to know. I found out yesterday I'm pregnant. I went in to get my
meds to start AF, and they have to give you a pg test first. I'm sorry if I
shouldn't have told you this way. Forgive me?"
I think I read it a
few times before the words started making sense again. Then I made up some lame
excuse about having to go to the restroom and shut down AIM. I did go to the
restroom only I cried dry tears instead. How could she have been so heartless?
How could she have been so cruel? What was wrong with her? How could I have
trusted her? Where was she? I wanted to hurt her as much as she had heartlessly
hurt me.
After the attack on September 11, 2001 she sent me an online
card. It said that she knew I did not want to talk to her, but in light of the
tragedy she wanted to say she loved me. Well I love her too; I did not turn that
part off. She�d been my friend since my sophomore year in high school. It just
added to the pain however that it took a terrible tragedy like the attack to get
her to say anything like that, but the tragedy of the death of my baby seemed
like more of an annoyance to her. My loss seemed to be something she could
exploit. I was the friend for which she could get sympathy. The card really
bothered me, after all she said that she understood that I did not want to talk
to her, but did she understand why?
I spent a few more days
stewing. Ok I spent over a week stewing, until I had finally reached a point
where bashing her head in for her insensitivity did not occupy every waking
moment. I wrote her a letter expressing my feelings. DH proofread it and changed
phrases like "I know that you live in your own little world" to "I know that you
have your own problems." DH said it was a good letter, my sister said it was a
good letter, my friend Jen said it was a good letter, my friend Melanie said it
was a good letter. And so I sent the letter. Her reply was stupid. In it she
admitted that she did not understand me (there is such a shocker). And she said
that three of her friends had had mc�s in two months, like she deserved a
congressional medal of honor or something just for knowing them. Was it really
about who knew more people who had had miscarriages in the past few months? All
that blabber and not a single word of apology for being such a cod.
I do
not know why I was surprised. But I am still a bit stunned, or maybe I am just
hurt that she would be that big of a jerk. I know that she will write this off
as my being jealous, and maybe I am a bit, but the truth of the matter is that
if she had approached me in a different way and dared to treat me with respect,
I could have been happy for her and her pregnancy. I have another friend who is
pregnant, and I can not wait to hear the updates on the baby. I am even enjoying
shopping in the baby sections for her. Yes, it is very hard, but rewarding all
at the same time. This friend actually called me to tell me she was pregnant. We
had an hour-long conversation. She made certain that I was ok enough to hear the
news, and she genuinely cares about my grief. Maybe I am setting myself up for
another let down. After all if one of my best friends in the world could have
hurt me so badly, how could I trust another? I do not know why I trust this
friend differently. Could it be that she wrote me and apologized for EBF�s
letter. Is it because she writes me every day and tries to help in any way that
she can? Is it because she waited until I had asked her continuously for months
about her kids before she was sure that she could talk about them freely with
me? She did not want to hurt me any further. She has been wonderful.
Was
the letter that I wrote EBF a bit harsh? Probably. Was it justified? Definitely.
Did I want to end our friendship? No. I wanted an apology. Did I expect too much
from EBF by expecting her to educate herself about loss for our Pregnancy and
PIL awareness site and to try to understand me, her friend of eight years?
Apparently. Am I sorry for the letter that I sent? No. I am just sorry that she
could not be big enough to apologize for the way that she treated me and ended
our friendship instead. I am sorry that I did not see that one coming.
Top
Entry Twelve
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November 5, 2001
I can not believe that it is
November already. As of yesterday DH and I have been married for 9 months. And
as of yesterday the Arizona Diamondbacks are the World Series Champs. Of course
I have to throw this part in, even though I have not been a baseball fan in the
past. I got the chance to go to one game this season and I had a blast. Needless
to say I am more than ecstatic that the D-backs have won.
I have been in
a state of numbness these passed few weeks. I don�t know how to describe it
really. I haven�t thought too much about Colin (which I feel * very * guilty
about), I�ve just been going through the motions and I guess trying to re-group
myself. AF finally came after a 71-day absence. Maybe this means that again, my
body can attempt to get back to normal? I am so tired of not having at least my
cycle be normal. I guess I had figured that if it became normal again, than I
could get back to not so much a sense of normalcy but maybe a place where I
could function as a human being once again. It�s not happening and this one
point is so frustrating for me. I am quite certain that my thoughts on this
matter are unintelligible anymore, but it all made sense in the beginning. If at
least my body can lean more towards the normalcy I experienced before we lost
Colin Michael, than maybe it�s not a baby-killing machine after all. But it
hasn�t gotten back to normal before the miscarriage. Instead it�s playing a
child�s game, taunting me with what I want from it and then never giving it back
to me. Of course getting mail from all of the mailing lists I got on when I was
PG haven�t helped me either. I don�t know why I haven�t called these people and
told them to stop sending me things for Dr. Suess books and Pampers, but I just
can�t seem to get myself to do it. Call it my own special brand of continued
self-inflicted torture, I guess. Somehow though, it also gives me a bit of hope,
for the future. And yes, that too makes me feel guilty. How is it that I can
look to the future? What kind of an evil mother does that?
Life at work
is the same old boringness. Since my department opens mail we�ve been to a few
training seminars on how to recognize suspicious packages (You mean boxes w/
wires sticking out of them could be bombs? Wow, that�s not obvious or anything.)
And they�ve given us gloves to wear while opening the mail. I think it�s a good
thing in light of everything that�s happening, and I don�t think that it�s an
unwarranted reaction. When the anthrax started getting sent through the mail, DH
pretty much wanted me to go to work in a full Haz Mat suit. Of course, I�ve
never been one to give into pressure and panic about the big threatening things
(nope, I prefer to sweat the small stuff) and I didn�t see it as such a threat
anyway, so I just told him that I would think about wearing gloves and maybe a
mask eventually. Gloves are pretty much mandatory at work now, which is fine. It
makes sense, after all. I just didn�t see the point of going to a complete
extreme of fear over something like this. Yes, it�s scary, but you can�t spend
the rest of your life hiding in your bedroom closet. You have to get out and
experience and yes sometimes even enjoy life, because what�s the point
otherwise?
The other day I heard about a woman who was pregnant who had
anthrax. That makes me so terribly sad. I don�t think that there�s anything I
can do necessarily, but my heart breaks at the mention of it. I have a tendency
to just want to hug people and make things better for them. Sometimes I wish
such people existed for me in real life. I have met many wonderful women online
and I always hear the same thing. They wish, and I wish that there were more
opportunities for mothers of loss to meet with others face to face in a
non-judgmental environment. It seems sometimes that the mothers who are grieving
a year or more after the deaths of their children are shunned even in the loss
world. How na�ve of the beginners to think that we should be over the loss of
our babies and returning to what was normalcy before our pregnancies.
So
much has happened for us since we lost Colin. We got married, bought into the
hype and �sold our souls� in other words, we got cell phones; I have a new car,
and have had two jobs since we lost Colin Michael. One job was terrible and the
wages were sub-standard, but it paved the way for my current job, where the
salary is better and the benefits are wonderful. Also I have an opportunity to
go back to school and get the Masters I have always wanted to get. One of the
ladies in my office has offered to help me decide on the degree program that
would be best for me and to kind of mentor me through the whole thing. She is
very close to getting her Ph.D. in a computer related field and has even offered
to let me work in her area a couple of hours week in the future if needed. I
have always wanted an opportunity to work on computers and to have the proper
training to do so. Actually I believe that I will go into web-development if
possible. I have taught myself html and love it, and I always said that I wanted
a job that I could go to in my pajamas. We�ll see if that ever comes true, but
with DH being a firefighter, I would like a more flexible job, so that I could
spend time w/ him on his days off.
I�m not sharing all of this to say
that life is better w/o Colin Michael because it most certainly is NOT better
w/o him. I know that we wouldn�t have been able to get all of the stupid toys
that we now own, if we�d have had him. You see that�s what I�m saying. Would I
trade my car, cell phone, job, school, and this entire alternative reality life
that I�m now stuck in for a life with my son? And I say �In a
heartbeat.'
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Entry Thirteen
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November 14, 2001
My life, it pretty much reads
like a soap opera. In grief, especially the grief over losing a child, you learn
that just when you are starting to have better days and think that you might be
able to smile for the first time in months, something happens to completely
throw that option out of the window of your mind. I don�t know if I was a
complete bitch in another life or what. Is karma dictating that I should be
miserable for the rest of my natural life? I don�t know anything about karma,
actually. All I know is that what goes around comes around. Or so they say. I
can not think of anything I have ever done that would warrant the death of my
son. I can not think of anything I have ever done that would cause EBF to come
back into my life, exactly when I�d realized I could live without her. I know
she�s a vapid person. I have always known this. I guess I shouldn�t have
expected her to keep her word this time, because she never really has in the
past. Whether it�s lack of memory or just lack of consideration, we will never
know.
When she got my letter, the one that apparently ended our
friendship, she said that she would step out of everything we�d done jointly and
hand it completely over to me, stupid idiot me, thought she�d stick by that.
Instead she has rejoined a list serv that I run and is posting, with her new
email addy that says something about her kids and a new sig that has the name of
her baby and the edd. Might I mention that the name she has chosen to name her
son (Rane) or daughter (Reine) is a form of a name that I chose and used to
create a character for an RPG that we had planned to run together? I created the
character, she was going to play her, but not really surprisingly she never did.
So, I�m completely insulted by that. I almost can�t believe her blind audacity,
except I was her best friend for eight years, so I really can believe that she�s
that stupid.
Ok, I have to admit that bagging on her like this is making
me feel better, but it�s not right. I know it�s not right. And neither is the
torture she is trying to put me through. It�s like she�s trying to win a
popularity contest that doesn�t exist. It�s completely childish. I guess it�s
true what that song says �Only stupid people are breeding.�
Moving on. I
can�t wait for the holidays. This past weekend my youngest sister, husband, and
I helped my mother out by decorating containers for her for Christmas. We had a
lot of fun, with ribbons, and bells and puffy paints. It was nice to go home and
help out. I just recently learned that my father worries about me as far as
losing Colin is concerned. Ok, I�m sure I knew it all along, but it kind of hit
me by surprise. I told him about my being published online at KotaPress and gave
him the email addy; telling him that it was an excerpt from my online journal. I
guess I never mentioned to him that I do this site complete with a journal. I
had thought I had. My dad has always been big on showing off my online work.
He�ll take my URLs to work and show everyone he works with what I�ve done. He�s
even been instrumental in talking co-workers into going online with their small
business, so that�s neat. Anyway, I have always shared these things with him, so
I never realized I actually hadn�t this time. He said he was glad that I was
doing something to get my feelings out, because he worries about me. Of course
then he did the male thing and said he worries about all of his kids. He has
three out of the house. I�m the only one who is close to home, however and my
other sister and brother are both in the Navy and stationed in California. He�s
still got two kids at home, one is a freshman in college and the other is a
senior in high school, so he�s close to getting the �empty nest� syndrome going.
Anyway, it was nice to know that my dad cares, even if he really doesn�t know
what to say.
I have been getting a bit of feedback from the visitors to
this site. I can�t tell you how much it warms my heart to know that people are
visiting and finding comfort here. I know that I have a very angry streak, and
I�m trying to tone that down, but I�m still glad that I haven�t scared that many
people away. I just got a survey back from a mother of a girl who has lost her
baby. It was so wonderful to hear that she talks to her daughter and others
about her grandson. She also brought up a common concern. That concern is that
she wished her daughter had more people to talk to about her loss. The loss
community is so vast. I�m so glad to have found all of the wonderful people that
I have, but I also agree that we need to do more. It is not right for women to
have to suffer alone. This is not the 1890�s where stuff just happens and you
accept it and never mention it again. We have found that women 20 years or more
removed from the losses are still actively grieving, because you don�t just get
over the death of a precious child. Forget that you had plans and dreams for
them, for a moment. Forget that you would have loved them six toes, three arms
and all, and women who let complete strangers baby-sit their kids (and then are
surprised when their 10 year olds are raped and killed) are allowed to procreate
over and over again. It is completely wrong for babies to die.
Every
time I hear of another mother who has lost her much-loved baby, I want to cry
all over again. Sometimes I do. And yet every day I read more stories about
mothers whose much wanted and loved babies die and wonder why the others are
allowed to get pregnant in the first place. The mother who decided she needed to
go home really quick to pick up socks and left her 9 month old at a train
station with a vagrant she�d just met, and was then surprised when the baby was
found dead later, angers me. The father who killed his two-month old son by
pressing hard on his head, because the baby�s head didn�t have the exact same
shape as his, angers me. The crack-addict who is 8 months pregnant, and who has
to be jailed for the rest of her pregnancy to keep her off of drugs, angers me.
The girl who concealed her pregnancy from her family and then threw her hours
old son in a plastic bag and then into a dumpster, where a neighbor later found
him barely alive, infuriates me. These are stories that make me wonder what
happened to all of the wonderful mothers who have lost babies. How do the
undeserving get them, and the ones who are so filled with love for their
children even 50 years after their deaths are denied. How can we comfort those
who will come behind us and make those who�ve never had a loss
understand?
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Entry Fourteen
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Monday, December 24, 2001
Well, it�s Christmas
Eve . . . again. I don�t remember much about last year. I think I was still in a
bit of a daze. I remember just being there and not feeling much. This year
however, Colin Michael would have been nearly 9 months old for Christmas.
Instead we traded in the car we wouldn�t have if he�d been born and got an
extended cab 4x4 truck. I guess you can put baby seats in the back, but it all
seems so final. Like someone�s saying. �See, because of this car you will not
have children because they will never fit into your life and you will just have
to get use to only having yourself and your husband to care for.� I know that�s
not what buying the truck was about, but sometimes it just feels so hopeless.
My family is home for the holidays, which is nice. I have been talking
to my sister a lot these last few days. She is in the middle of a divorce and
has been through so much crap for only being 23. She�s so much wiser than I am
in so many areas. I guess that�s the beauty of sisters. They can always help you
in the areas you need. She has suggested that I keep a journal by my bed, and
write in it. She has done this and it has helped her to discover the areas she
needs to work on and what she really needs to do to be happy. She says that
since I have a tendency to push traumatic events into the back of my mind and
ignore everything, and forget everything and just not feel, I really need to do
this. Hopefully I remember to actually buy a journal to do this, because I think
it really will help me get over my numb stage.
I�m so tired of not
caring about anything. At work and in life it seems like I�m just going through
the motions and nothing means anything anymore. I get up in the morning, take a
shower, get dressed pull my hair back and walk out the door. When I get to work,
I turn my computer on and spend 8 hours entering data and researching and
answering phones calls that crazy people make. I do this in silence because
apparently you can�t multi-task in my line of work, as we aren�t allowed to
listen to the radio, talk, or breathe because of this fact. I put up with the
40-year-old lady stealing up to 75% of my printouts off of the office printer,
and just re-print stuff. And then I go home, watch TV, eat dinner and stay up
until I can�t stay up anymore.
How exciting is my life? Do you ever feel
as though you�ve lost your purpose in life? I think that�s where I am now. All I
wanted to be when I grew up was a good wife and mother and successful in
whatever career I chose. I don�t think that I�m a very good wife, though my
husband would tell you otherwise. I obviously am not a good mother. And I�m
doing the struggling thing with my career as I�m trying to figure out what I
want to be when I grow up. Only thing is that I�m so close to grown-up or way
past grown-up and that�s a bit terrifying.
Add to the normal holiday
stress is the fact that I am on cycle day 54. I�m very moody and I�ve been sick
and everything. I know most would say that I must obviously be pg. I haven�t
temped a lot of this cycle, but I do know I haven�t even ovulated and I�m just
grumpy because of work and things not being right. I haven�t been eating
properly, which is making me sick, and I�m just falling apart, I think. Besides,
Patrick would know if I was pg, and he hasn�t said a word to me about it. In a
perfect world we�d have our son and this wouldn�t be an issue. In a perfect
world if I were pregnant I would be able to take a pregnancy test and find out
that I am pg before Christmas and it could be a happy Christmas present to my
husband, as opposed to a scary �present� to him if I am, or when I ever will be
pg. In a perfect world I wouldn�t have to worry about being at work on Christmas
Eve, because I wouldn�t be working at all. I�d be at home with my son and
husband or at my mother�s house baking cookies, where my siblings would be
entertaining my son. In a perfect world I would be independent still and not
completely emotionally dependent upon my husband, as I am now so much of the
time.
It�s just a sad time of the year. I know I should be happy for so
many things, like my family being together this Christmas, and I am happy for
those things, but I�m also so sad for the things that should be and the loved
ones who should be with us.
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Entry Fifteen
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Monday, March 04, 2002
Exactly what can I say to get
you all up to speed? I just re-read my Christmas Eve post and can�t get over how
completely hopeless I was. I mean I was nearly dead inside. I was worried about
so much and nothing made sense, and everything was wrong.
Some bright
things have popped up on my horizon for once. I had had an appointment in
October with a doctor who was not my normal doctor (due to a mix up with my
insurance). That appointment was ridiculous. The lady barely looked at me in the
five minutes she graced me with her presence and simply told me to lose weight.
She ignored that I�d taken two pregnancy tests in the 2 weeks prior, had only
had low temps in the last few weeks and simply ordered a blood pregnancy test.
Surprisingly it came back negative. A week later, I had an AF. Thankfully I was
able to change my insurance to cover my actual doctor and in early February I
scheduled and appointment.
Between my October and February appointments,
I had noticed that I�d started getting hair in places I didn�t normally have it.
My cheeks, sideburns, stomach and the hairs on my arms started getting really
dark and long. I am Italian, so my sister and I have always had moustaches, in
the girl sense of the word. But as a light-haired Italian I only had to bleach
that moustache once every few months. Now suddenly it was getting darker quicker
and I was starting to feel like I was turning into a man. Add that to my need to
always be fighting with my husband and I was certain I was going insane, and
that my body was rebelling against me. My doctor talked to me in my early
February appointment, and concluded that my hormones must be out of whack, which
is what I had thought was possible. A girl at work was convinced that I had a
thyroid problem, much like hers, and so my dr. ordered some hormone blood tests.
She put me on five days of progesterone to bring about the AF I hadn�t had since
October. The first day of taking the progesterone I was feeling better. It was
amazing how good I started to feel once I got some girl hormones pumped back
into my system. The aggressiveness and need to just fight to fight and argue to
argue subsided rather rapidly. In fact I cried in response to frustration for
the first time in months. That was the break through for me. LOL. Crying instead
of wanting to punch someone in response to frustration. Who knew I would be so
happy to be a blubberer? On February 28, 2002 I was officially diagnosed with
Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. My doctor is still doing a blood test on my kidneys
to see if I can handle going on Glucophage (metformin). From what I�ve heard and
read it will help me to lose weight, so I�m looking forward to that. It will
also help with fertility and it will help regulate my hormones and insulin.
These are all very important things for those of us with classic signs of PCOS.
I hated going to the dr. and each time having gained so much weight and not
knowing what was causing it. Now I know what was wrong, and it�s so great to
know. Whoever coined the phrase, �knowledge is power� was completely right. I�m
just so happy to know what is wrong w/ me finally, because now that I know I can
start to manage it, instead of just sitting there wondering what is happening to
me. My dr. wants me to continue my exercising and to watch what I eat a bit
better. I have read that diets low in carbs are ideal for those with classic
signs of PCOS, so I�m going to try and get on one such diet. If only I didn�t
love pasta so much.
This diagnosis is bittersweet. While it is
absolutely wonderful to finally know what has been beating me up, it is
heartbreaking news because I now believe that my lack of hormones, or messed up
hormones may have caused me to lose Colin Michael. My initial hpt was very light
and when I had to get my test done for the doctor, it took the entire five
minutes to come through as pg. At the time I thought it was because I�d just had
a liter of water to drink, but now I think it was because of my lack of
hormones. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. My mother was
throwing up nearly from day one with all five of her kids. I had light nausea
normally around 12 or 1am. I had the same reaction when I was on bcp�s. I just
thought I was lucky, because this was obviously going to be an easy pregnancy.
How wrong I was. Anyway, as I said, it is bittersweet.
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