Just the two of us 

This last week Hubbins and I have been home together. This time was so needed. When we lost Langston, I don’t think we took the time to grieve together. I went back to work 3 days later and I believe he did the same. This time we took the week off. This week we laughed and cried together. I realized this week that it is so easy when you’re on this infertility/loss journey to lose sight of your spouse…your relationship becomes a discussion of appointments and symptoms and spotting and cramping and other such sexy things. Even when I was pregnant, in the beginning the baby was kind of something we abstractly discussed. We spoke of appointments and shots and ticked off the weeks as they went by; I think on some level we were trying to insulate ourselves against anything happening….and then it happened again. This week we took the time to honor Lucas. We spoke about our feelings of anger, betrayal, hurt and most importantly, love. We loved our son. We love our sons. There were days we stayed in bed and he held me while I cried. He has lain on the couch holding a hot pad on my stomach as cramps grabbed hold of me. We spent days laughing at YouTube videos. This was all important to us, this week in our cave. We declined many of our visitors who wanted to stop by because we needed to process this for us….as parents, as lovers and as two people trying to decide on our future. We talked about trying again. We talked about next steps. We talked about how many more losses we were willing to risk.
Today to end our week together, we got tattoos to remember our boys. The details may be hard to see on his because it was pretty swollen but I’ll put a picture here. They are two kids building blocks and on the side of each is a name and the date our boys came to us. The die hard Giants fan wanted that reflected there as well as it is something he would have shared with his boys.

Mine represents that my boys hearts will always be one with mine and the L’s are for their first names.

This week we get back to ‘normal’ life; he returns to work tomorrow and I go back on Thursday. I am so glad that we took the time for us to start our healing process.

Sometimes I want to be the snarky angry girl 

Begin rant. 

There is a friend of mine on my FB timeline complaining about her pregnancy. Again. She is 26 weeks and “can’t wait to get this baby out of her” so she can “get back to life where her body is hers again”. 

It keeps popping up on my timeline because people are sending her their sympathies and wishing her a speedy pregnancy. Their sympathies.

I want to say something snarky and angry. I have drafted the perfect comment a few times in my head. But…taking the high road or whatever. So instead I will just mute her and her pregnancy that is taking so so long while I sit here wishing that I had as many more weeks as I could. 

End rant. 

Social media 

Last night, well this morning, around 3am, Hubbins and I both placed posts on our social media accounts about our boys.  

   This was a big move for both of us as we knew that it was exposing a level of vulnerability that we didn’t necessarily want. And we decided to go ahead after our conversation. 
When we lost Langston, only a few close friends and family members knew and I actually felt…ashamed. It felt like my boy was something that I did that I shouldn’t tell the world about. And as such, I had to endure people who didn’t know and who made casual remarks that cut to the core. This time when we got pregnant, again, we kept it from a LOT more people than last time. A few people had their suspicions regarding our mass dissapearance from social media and life in general. We felt we were protecting ourselves…and here  we are again.

This time, we aren’t hiding our Lucas. This isn’t a mass plea for sympathy on our behalf. This is us begging the world to know that we are parents. We created two perfect boys who could not stay with us on this earth. That doesn’t make us any less of parents in our hearts. We had dreams for our boys. We were proud. My husband, coming from a line of siblings who only make girls 😏, made two sons (this is a very manly thing to do). 

Parents of loss are begrudged so much. We give up not only our precious children; we give up all the possible memories that we would have made and this is my way of knowing that our boys will be remembered by other hearts than ours. 

Already, friends have contacted me saying that they too dealt with this loss in silence. I am hoping that our transparency gives someone hope that they are not facing this alone. 

Well now we know nothing. 

I had my followup today. Sigh. I thought I was going to be mad and raging and have all the questions. Instead I just said why and then sat there trying not to cry. Hubbins told her everything that happened. She was adequately compassionate and emphasized that everything had looked good. All cultures came back negative so infection was not the culprit. Unfortunately, if the water breaks before viability at 24 weeks there isn’t much to be done. She strongly suggests the abdominal cerclage be placed when we are ready to begin trying again and I will need to consult with MFM for that as she does not perform them. I guess I feel slightly better knowing it wasn’t a missed infection but the fact that it “just happened” isn’t exactly helpful. She has me out of work till the 18th and even then on light duty for a month. 
Today is a better day. I got up. Have eaten. Even smiled a bit at a text exchange with my supervisor. That’s where we are. 

The anger 

I go to see my regular OB tomorrow. She wasn’t on call this weekend so while I think she knows that I delivered, I’m not certain. I need her to clear me to go back to work because I can’t sit in my house slowly losing my mind. I love this lady. Loved, I guess. Now I feel betrayed. When I met her after Langston’s birth, she told me that after we would work together to make sure this didn’t happen again. I showed up at her office in December triumphant because I had gone through the work to get pregnant again (yes because it takes work for me to conceive)  and now I was in her hands. I did everything she told me to do. I trusted her wholly when she said do the procedure. When she said do it again, I trusted her. When on Wednesday, I told her I was still having more discharge and she performed an exam and said “the stiches look good” and I asked about the slight opening that I could see on the ultrasound she explained to me about funneling and said that because of the stitches baby would be ok, I stopped worrying. And now, here I am again. I need to know how this happened. I need to know why my concerns about my water breaking were met with comments that it hadn’t broken but when it had there was nothing to do. I need to know why I waited two hours once I got to L&D to see a doctor. Two hours during which the fluid that was required to keep my baby alive drained out of me only to have a doctor come in 2 hours later and say there is no fluid. I know asshat. I know. I need answers. My son isn’t here. My second son. I am a mother to two sons and have never heard either of their cries. Someone needs to tell me why. Someone needs to give me a reason to consider trying this again. I don’t have any heart left to break.