(I started
writing this in a light hearted way. It
was meant to be humorous. It has ended
up being very dark. I’m sorry. I guess joking around and trying to act fine
doesn’t always work. I am doing this
post as an extended one, it has got so long.)
I’ll start with
the ugly.
When I got
pregnant this last time (my FIFTH pregnancy, how fucked up is that), a friend
of mine who also did IVF to have her twins and then had a total surprise baby 2
years later, said to me "don’t you feel proud of your body!" And I realized that
for the first time in years, I did feel proud of my body.
I’ve never had a
particularly good relationship with my body, but infertility killed what little
love I had for it. During infertility I
hated my body. I despised it. It had
betrayed me in the cruelest way possible. And I was trapped by it, slave to it. I
couldn’t do it without it, and yet it kept failing me. And then I lost Luke and Ben. My body not
only betrayed me, it killed my children.
Since the kids
were born, I’ve slowly, cautiously starting trying to build a new relationship
with my body. My body is the physical
means of me being able to care for and mother my children. Without my body, I can’t care for them. And
so slowly, slowly, I am started to build up respect for it, trust in it.
And then
yesterday happened. And in that moment I
went straight back to that place of hatred and betrayal. Once again my body had let me down, had
fooled me into believing it was to be trusted, and then betrayed me yet
again. I hated it. I felt so trapped by it. I want to run away from it, from the pain it
causes me, but I am stuck in it.
I know none of
this is logical. I might make no sense
to you, but this is how I feel. I know I
must respect my body, I know all of those good things about looking after
myself, for the sake of my kids etc etc. But in the moments of my rawest, darkest grief, I despise my body.
On Thursday I have
to go to hospital and lie with my legs in stirrups while I have my cervix
dilated and the fetus scraped from my womb. Cold, sterile. Scrape. The ultimate violation. Once again, I will bleed for weeks after wards. I don’t want to be there, in that hospital
bed. Every single fibre of my being is
screaming out not to be there again. And
yet I have to go. I wish I could disassociate my mind and soul from my body. I
can’t. I am trapped. Trapped by this
body that makes me go through this pain over and over again.
That’s the
ugly. The deep, dark ugly that threatens
my fragile hold on happiness.
Then there is
the bad.
The bad is that
I still feel so pregnant. There is no
sicker joke than looking and feeling pregnant and not being pregnant. Well, I am pregnant but it is with a dead
baby. I still feel sick, I feel nauseas,
tired. But it is a farce, a fake. I am a fake. A fake, fake, fake. How pathetic of me to believe I ever had a chance at 'normal'.
In moments like
this, moments of self-hate, it is hard not to give in to the punishing
behaviour of my past. I feel so ugly, so
fat. Fat and barren. Fatandbarrenfatandbarrenfatandbarren. I want to punish my body. Starve it. Punish it.
I want Thursday
to be here. I want this baby out
now. I want to stop feeling so
pregnant. Right now.
(They are
going to send the tissue away for testing, perhaps we will get some answers
from that. Perhaps not. I should know in about 3 weeks)
Oh dear. Perhaps that belonged under ‘ugly’ as well.
I was surprised, and not surprised when the scan showed no heartbeat. Surprised because I felt so pregnant. I know what pregnant feels like. And right up until that scan, I felt very pregnant. I was not surprised because firstly it all felt so surreal to start off with, and secondly because bad news like this no longer has the power to surprise me. Funny how those feelings, that room, that terribly still little blob on the scan all feels so achingly familiar. It's as if I never left.
I haven’t cried
much since finding out there was no heartbeat. I’ve been brave. Putting on a
brave face and joking around. Lightening up the mood so that other people
wouldn’t feel bad for me. It's ok! I'm ok! Look, I am fine, please don't worry about me! I've hardly cried at all. In fact I’ve
cried more while writing this post than I have cried since 1:30pm yesterday when I got the news.
I did cry a little
when I got this note:
Dear TERTIA ALBERTYN
Details of your hospital admission
Patient's name: TERTIA
ALBERTYN
Reason for going to
hospital: Missed abortion
Hospital name: KINGSBURY HOSPITAL
Treating doctor: WISWEDEL,
HEYLEN & LE ROUX
Date of admission: 22/03/2007
Authorised length of stay*.
1.0 days
“Missed
abortion”. I cried a little when I read
that. (WTF does that mean any way? A bit crap calling it a missed abortion.)
I cried when I
told my mother the news and she started crying. I cried even more when she said “oh my daughter, you really have had to
walk a long, hard road”. I hate that once
again, my mother is crying for me. I
keep causing my family so much pain.
I cried when
Rose cried after I told her the news.
I cried when
Marko seemed to want to hang on to the 1% chance that this might work out. (They did see a pulse, but they are 99% sure
it was mine. I got back tomorrow for
final confirmation that it is all over. My last scan before the D&C)
I cried a little
when I read your supportive messages.
But besides
that, I haven’t cried that much. I guess
you get used to this after a while. I’ve
been through worse.
Which brings us
to the good.
When I got the
news yesterday, all I wanted to do was rush home to my babies. I wanted to get home and hold them in my arms
and drink in their smell. I got home and
just held them tight. Until they said
‘stop it mama’. Buggers.
Besides all the dark
feelings above, my most overwhelming feeling is one of gratitude. I am so immensely grateful that I have my two
kids. I am so, so, so unbelievably lucky
and blessed. Words fail me to describe
how enormous this feeling of gratitude is.
This loss, more
than any thing else has reminded me who lucky I am. How far I have come, how bad things were
before and how blessed my life is now.
As hard as this
loss is, it is nothing compared to what life was like before Adam and Kate came
into my life. This loss was a brief
glimpse back into that world that I lived in for so long, that so many of my
friends are still living in. What a
dark, lonely, painful world. How lucky I
am not to live there still.
Being able to
put my arms around my two healthy, living children is the most wonderful
feeling in the world, and I am overwhelmed with how enormously lucky I am to be
able to do that. I am trying so hard to
try and put into words how huge this is for me, how lucky I feel. But I can’t find the right words. Loss is hard; infertility is much, much
harder.
I am really sad
this little baby didn’t work out, but I am indescribably grateful I have my two
beautiful children. It doesn’t make it
better, but it does make it easier.
My heart aches
for every single one of you who are still yearning to have your arms and hearts
filled in the way Adam and Kate fill mine. As always, you are in my heart.
Thanks to all of
you for your support and love. I really
do feel lifted up by all of you. It
helps so very much.
I'll be ok, I am a survivor, I've been through worse. I'll be ok, because the alternative is not an option for me. I'll be ok, because I have to be.
Love to all of you.
I know you know this but being sad for your loss doesn't make you less grateful for the G&D Kate and Adam. You've been sucker punched and that is not fair. I just mean to say be as sad as you feel, K&A will still be there and still be wonderful and wanted and appreciated as if you put on a brave face (again, not that you needed me to tell you). You have a precious family and I am so sorry for your loss.
Posted by: Em | 20 March 2007 at 08:41 PM
I feel you, especially having just been through the same scenario a week ago, but I would have anyway based on your words. I totally get the feeling of gratitude for the babes. I feel it about my little guy; he makes it all somewhat bearable. I got through it by focusing on the fact that I can only change what I can change (huge for me since I basically feel as though I got pregnant by changing the odds through IVF which gives the illusion of control, somehow--ha!) and that I can't do anything about this thing. I'm glad you have people surrounding you who care and are grieving with you. Take care.
Posted by: mellie | 20 March 2007 at 08:47 PM
And love to you, dear girl. We all so, so wanted this to work for you, and are all so sad that it didn't (although the hope addict bit in me wants the pulse to be Couch's, not yours).
Posted by: e | 20 March 2007 at 08:50 PM
Hi T,
I know we have disagreed on things in the past (the whole stay at home fiasco - I've grown up a bit since then.) :) Anyway, just wanted to let you know that this post was beautiful and K & A are lucky to have you for a mama. It is so crystal clear how much you love them.
I'm sorry and I'm grieving with you.
Rachel
raqueljoy.livejournal.com
Posted by: Rach | 20 March 2007 at 08:52 PM
Thanks. You totally made me cry.
I am so sorry this little one didn't make it. Sometime I hate all of our bodies for doing this to us. We'll be with you on Thursday, and every day after that. Hang in there, Tertia. I'm still holding out for the 1% too, sap that I am.
Posted by: Anna | 20 March 2007 at 08:58 PM
Love to you and your family.
Posted by: MollieBee | 20 March 2007 at 08:58 PM
Of course you'll be okay but for now you get to be brave when you need to be brave and you get to cry when you can and when you want to. I'm so sorry this happened.
Posted by: 21stCenturyMom | 20 March 2007 at 08:58 PM
I will say again how sorry I am that this baby was not to be. I hoped so hard for you, Tertia.
Posted by: Teenuh | 20 March 2007 at 09:08 PM
Oh Tertia... I guess we all know how grateful and full of love you are for your children. It shines through every single one of your postings. But you're also entitled to sadness, weakness, anger - anything that belongs to the process of mourning. One does not and should not exclude the other. Mourning is just another facet of love. In this case the love for a child you will unfortunately never meet.
B.t.w.: You're _not_ causing your family any pain at all, just as little as you're causing pain to your "friends in the computer". Your family loves you and therefore feels _your_ pain. That's a totally different thing altogether! Do you know what I mean?
Posted by: Ute | 20 March 2007 at 09:19 PM
A bit of doctor jargon:
Abortion is a loss of fetus, so :
Spontaneous abortion is a miscarriage
Therapeutic abortion is a regular "abortion" done on a live fetus, by woman's choice- for genetic or personal reasons
Missed abortion is when the fetus dies but the body does not miscarry on its own
Sorry it sounds so demeaning
Posted by: Tanya | 20 March 2007 at 09:35 PM
Dear Tertia,
What you wrote about your body - well, I wish I couldn't understand it but I do, word for word.
About Thursday - dear God, you poor woman and anyone who has to go through such a heartbreaking mockery of an outcome to a pregnancy. The time between now and then will pass, and then Thursday itself will pass - slowly, crawling on its hands and knees across broken glass - and you will go back home to the warmth of people who love you.
It is rare and true and profoundly admirable that in depths of this you describe yourself as lucky, and that your thoughts are with everyone still yearning for that first baby. Yes, you're right, but my God to have the grace and generosity of spirit to say so - now - well, dammit, I knew there was a reason I read you.
You know, T, you're not bad. Not bad at all.
Posted by: alchemilla | 20 March 2007 at 09:46 PM
My heart goes out to you. I've been reading since I started my own ttc journey, I remember when you posted that you were pregnant with K & A. Life is cruel sometimes. I'm so sorry it's been cruel again to you. My heart is breaking for you.
Missed abortion is a shit name to call it.
I'm so, so, sorry.
Posted by: Jennifer | 20 March 2007 at 09:47 PM
I loved this beautiful, warm, heartbreaking post (except for the apology for its being dark, because if you can't be dark with your friends in the computer, who can you be dark with?).
Plus, what Ute said.
Posted by: Slim | 20 March 2007 at 09:47 PM
Oh GOD How I don't want to say this.. I don't want to be one of "those" people who says "but it happened to me".. but oh oh my... PLEASE request one more scan before the surgery. Please? It just pains me to hear you say you still feel pregnant. I went to the ER at 7 weeks pregnant (had no scan before then, that was based on my last period). Bleeding, cramping. The scan showed a 5 wk gestational sack, no fetal pole, no heart beat. They called it a missed miscarriage and told me to go to my OB. So I did, hcg levels dropped from over 6000 to 375 when they should have been doubling. Decided to let it happen naturally, a week later I went back, they drew blood, and did a scan. The scan showed a 6 week fetus with a heart beat.. just a subchorionic hemmorage. My due date was adjusted 2 weeks later, and my son cames a few days before his original due date. Please, just please make sure you get one more scan.
Posted by: Kayla | 20 March 2007 at 09:52 PM
You need not apologize to anyone for going through hell. Much as we'd all rather be celebrating good news with you it's not your fault. Try to be gentle to yourself - early losses hurt and having to go through medical stuff like the D&C makes it all harder. I wish it hadn't happened and wasn't happening to you. I hope having Kate & Adam eases the pain a bit and I hope Thursday goes as easily as possible under the miserable circumstances.
Posted by: leslie | 20 March 2007 at 09:58 PM
Hm... Well I guess it shows I was reading in a hurry and missed you were having another scan. My fault. I apologize.
Posted by: Kayla | 20 March 2007 at 09:59 PM
I am terribly sorry for your loss. I cried while reading that. It isn't fair that so many of us have to suffer through infertility, loss of a pregnancy and the loss of a child.
P&PT with you and your loved ones.
Posted by: Rumour Miller | 20 March 2007 at 10:05 PM
Yes, yes, yes, to everything you wrote. The D&C is such a violation, but I could not bear to 'feel pregnant' another day.
One of the biggest slaps in the face (and there were many) is finding out that my medical records state I am a 'habitual aborter'. On the paperwork going along with our genetic testing, husband is listed as 'spouse of habitual aborter'. I know the medical terms originally were not meant to give offense, but abortion is such a charged word nowadays, why can't we choose a better term for those of us grieving babies that we would give anything to bring to life.
I am so very sorry for your loss. It should have been a miracle and it should have worked out in the end. We too had a 'miracle' pregnancy but my snippy reply is that it wasn't much of a miracle if it ended with me in stirrups, was it.
I am grieving with you. It isn't fair.
Posted by: chandler | 20 March 2007 at 10:10 PM
Tertia, I am so very very sorry for your loss.
And, so very grateful that you can hold Adam and Kate while you cry. Be gentle with yourself.
Posted by: expat | 20 March 2007 at 10:13 PM
Thinking about you SO much...
Posted by: redsaid | 20 March 2007 at 10:30 PM
I'm so very very sorry and thinking of you so much these days. I know it's hard (perhaps impossible) but try to be gentle with yourself.
You aren't causing your family pain. They are hurting because they love you and you are hurting.
Posted by: millie | 20 March 2007 at 10:35 PM
I felt a glimmer of relief when I read your words "I am really sad this little baby didn’t work out, but I am indescribably grateful I have my two beautiful children. It doesn’t make it better, but it does make it easier".
I thought of Adam and Kate as soon as I read your terrible news - I thought how lucky you are to have them - but I kept my thoughts to myself, because I felt that comments such as this had to come from YOU - does that make sense?
From anyone else it is just a platitude - because it's NOT about already having two G & D kiddies - it's about the NEW baby, who was so unexpected, but so massively loved for his or her short life.
OMG - don't you just wish you could hit the "fast forward" button in life, and get to a place where it doesn't hurt so damn much. I wish I could push that button for you.
Thinking of you all.
((((HUGS))))
Posted by: Julie | 20 March 2007 at 10:37 PM
You cried while you wrote this, I cried while I read this. Because we are dealing with MF infertility I have never felt the hatred towards my body that I have read so many of my blog friends talk about. Reading your description sounds so raw and hard. I am sorry you feel that your body betrayed you but other than the black hair, I hope you don't punish it (and I'm sure the hair looks G&D).
Posted by: jenny | 20 March 2007 at 10:40 PM
i didn't think i could shed tears so easily for someone i've never met, but by reading your book and blog i almost feel like i know you - like you're a close friend. i'm so sorry that you're going through all of this. you've been through so much already. just know that there are thousands of people out there sending you lots of love and keeping you in prayer xxx
Posted by: clarissa | 20 March 2007 at 10:42 PM
You and Marko (and K &A) will be in my thoughts and prayers Tertia.
Posted by: Becky | 20 March 2007 at 10:44 PM
I understand oh so much more than words can say how you feel about your body. I took a different route after AJ and Torie. I simply couldn't handle going through it again. I had to ensure that I wouldn't ever lay on that table to be told there was no heartbeat again.
I agree, you aren't causing your family pain. They are simply loving you as you experience your own personal hell.
Posted by: AmyElle | 20 March 2007 at 10:45 PM
Love to you, to your babies (all of them), and to Marko. I know the two of you are hurting very much.
Posted by: goodsandwich | 20 March 2007 at 10:49 PM
I can't say anything I just want to cry. You so don't deserve to be going through this.
Kate and Adam are a great reason for being they are so gorgeous.
Posted by: Barb | 20 March 2007 at 10:55 PM
Tertia, as always I am thinking of you (Can I set this so that those 5 words come up automatically like all my other details ...? j/k).
I can't believe that your last thoughts of the day were of others still waiting ...you are so amazing and I wish everyone had such a beautiful soul.
Take care, lean on someone when you need to ...the people who love you *want* to hold you up when you're struggling to do it for yourself.
xoxo
Posted by: Simonne | 20 March 2007 at 11:01 PM
Oh please do not hate you body. The body is your life. Its not the body who kills the baby its the baby itself which was not able to live. I also had a missed abortion after my daughter and before my son. It was hard, really hard and I also had to let them make the surgery. They made it the same day, because I didn't want to carry a dead embryo inside myself any day longer. During all that I never hatet my body, I felt guilty if I had done something wrong and endless sad, but my docotr said some wise words to me when I asked him why my body didn't work well and killed the baby. He answered that my body reactet quiet good because mostly these abortions happen because the baby is not okay and the body can discover this and so in its intelligent the body stops growing the little one. I don't know if that helps a lot right now. I hope my little bla did not bother you.
At least what went to my mind was, why hate your body, for years you believed you are infertile and now the body shows itself, that you re not, that he can do that! Keeping a baby will be the next step.
I hope you will cheerup after the weekend and that the surgery will be okay and fast. Mine was over in 20 min and I could go home after another 30 - 60 minutes. Let you family hug you, I send you strong thoughts and don#t forget to cry and let the baby go.
Best wishes
Sibylle
Posted by: Sibylle | 20 March 2007 at 11:02 PM
It really, really stinks that you know how to do this so well, that this miserable time is so familar. I hate it for you. And I am still so very sorry it didn't work out.
Posted by: Jo in Utah | 20 March 2007 at 11:13 PM
I have no other words. Just offering my love and support.
Posted by: Carrie Jo | 20 March 2007 at 11:30 PM
You are such a strong person. Even in your weakest darkest moments, you are so strong. I went back and read your post about Ben and Luke. This may sound trite, but God chose you to be the mother of these sweet little babies - all of them. However long the duration of their lives, you are the only person in this whole world who could be their mother. And to be trusted with the life of another human being, well, it's an honour and blessing. But you already know that. May you be the most adored mother in paradise when you are reunited with all your children.
Posted by: Jen H. | 20 March 2007 at 11:43 PM
My mom has PCOS, but managed to have my sister and I, though it was not easy. I, too have PCOS and pregnancy is, well, not happening. My heart is breaking for you, but the strength you showed in this post has once again made me realize that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Somehow, you will be okay. Somehow, I will be okay. Somehow, we will all be okay.
Posted by: Andrea | 20 March 2007 at 11:44 PM
Oh, Tertia. Again, I am so sorry. I too, have been in this dark place. Hating my body for letting me down, again and AGAIN and AGAIN.
I too, have gone home from devistating news such as yours and held my baby tight, so grateful to have him, to smell his sweet smell.
You're right, it doesn't make it better, but it makes it easier.
You're in my thoughts, Tertia.
Posted by: Laurie | 20 March 2007 at 11:47 PM
I am so very sorry to hear the bad news dear Tertia. It is just so bloody unfair; it makes me so furious. Please don't hate your body though. You have gone through so much the last thing you need is to be going through that horrible black depression again. I can understand you totally as I was very similar when I was diagnosed with Uterus Didelphys and told by an insensitive doctor 'of course you will never be able to have children'. Needless to say I went on a self-destruct rampage that lasted far too long. I eventually went on to have my darling little boy via IVF and I now feel proud of my body that it could carry him to 41 weeks and nourish him for all that time!
Your body has done a great job; it carried Adam and Kate all those months and looked after them!! Without your wonderful body they would not be here! Ok it has also let you down terribly but one must try to dwell on the positive as bloody difficult as that may be.
I hope I am not out of line here dear Tertia but are you back on the AD's? I went off mine very suddenly a while back and it was not the right thing to do; I went into a big funk for a week or so until I went back on them. I think with what you have been dealing with it would be good to get back on them??
I am sending you great big hugs; I also am emailing you privately as there is something important I need to talk to you about also.
Juliette
Posted by: juliette | 21 March 2007 at 12:00 AM
I'm so sorry you have to live through all this again. Hug those G&D kiddies and know that we here in the computer are holding you in our hearts.
Posted by: Silene | 21 March 2007 at 12:03 AM
Thank you, Tertia, for putting into words what so many of us have felt - loss and gratitude. It is a tough road to walk, but Travis was my mainstay during mine at 14.5 weeks.
Will be thinking of you this week.
Posted by: Judy | 21 March 2007 at 12:10 AM
Can I tell you I just love your mother. "Oh, my daughter . . . " It makes me cry just imagining her saying that. That is just the kind of thing my mother would say. My favorite of all your posts is the letter you wrote to your mother. I sobbed reading it. Isn't it wonderful how much you love each other? And you love your children the same way, and it really is lucky that, despite all the pain and loss you know what that love is and your arms are full. Maybe because of the pain and loss you all feel the love more deeply. That is one positive thing to focus on.
I'm sorry that you had to be dragged back into a fresh hell of infertility. But I'm glad that you have so much love in your life to get you through it.
Posted by: legalmama | 21 March 2007 at 12:35 AM
Missed abortion is a horrific term, and habitual aborter even worse. I have actually made speeches to Drs. and politicians attempting to get those words banned and replaced with miscarriage or recurrent pregnancy loss or missed pregnancy loss.
They choose to use those words, because Dr.s hate women, IMO. Your Dr. and hospital can choose to say something different. Ask them too. Tell Marko to ask them too.
And yes, I'm with Marko holding onto a tiny bit of hope for the 1% for you. Just because....
Posted by: Aurelia | 21 March 2007 at 12:41 AM
here;s to marko's 1%! maybe you ovulated later? Dont give up just yet :). Hugs.
Posted by: mindy | 21 March 2007 at 01:09 AM
Oh Tertia - your post brought me right back to last November, back to the anger and frustration and futility and back to somehow feeling stupidly responsible and defeated and empty and sick. The days between finding out the baby was dead (at 16 wks) and the D&C were endless and full of that awful sense of feeling pregnant but not being pregnant.
I'm so so sorry. So very sorry.
Posted by: DaniGirl | 21 March 2007 at 01:54 AM
I am so sorry. Thinking of you.
Posted by: Susan | 21 March 2007 at 02:00 AM
All my love to you, sweet girl. You don't deserve this.
Posted by: Brooklyn Girl | 21 March 2007 at 02:01 AM
I wish I had healing words for you but I don't really. As a survivor of childhood abuse of many kinds, a rape in my late teens, several miscarriages, and a perinatal loss due to cord around the neck, and one incredibly healthy toddler, I think I am pretty close to understanding that push and pull with your body. But I still don't have anything consoling to say except that I wish you some peace, and I hope that you find a way to care for yourself and let others care for you, so that you can start to reform that relationship again. Hang in there.
Posted by: Shandra | 21 March 2007 at 02:16 AM
“You can’t be brave if you’ve only had wonderful things happen to you”
– Mary Tyler Moore.
I too am holding out hope for you and the 1% chance. It feels so real still.
Posted by: Deb | 21 March 2007 at 02:23 AM
((friend)). we love you.
Posted by: tess | 21 March 2007 at 02:23 AM
So so sorry you have to go through this. And just for the record, I'm with Marko and his 1% until you tell us otherwise! Will be thinking of you tomorrow.
Posted by: Whitney | 21 March 2007 at 02:26 AM
Yeah, I hear you on hating your body's betrayal. Hell, the average cow can conceive, gestate to term, and produce milk, but my body had trouble with those mammalian basics. I also came out of the semi-hard-fought pregnancy not just with a child (now 6 and healthy), but also with permanent health problems.
You know, the kids won't say "stop it, mama" if you're holding them when they're asleep. Hugging your sweet child(ren) always helps when it's a rough day, I know.
Tertia, you're a bit of an asshole for making us all cry, but that's okay. We like you.
Posted by: Orange | 21 March 2007 at 02:47 AM
I think the betrayal thoughts are perfectly rational. DESPITE the fact that you have two beautiful children at home, it's perfectly reasonable, given the road you had to take to get even those two, that you'd feel betrayed. The woman's body is so fickle: on the one hand, you marvel at how it created and carried these two phenomenal creatures. On the other hand, it drug your ass to hell and back before you had K&A and then, lo and behold, smacked you around one last time, just for good measure. How can you not be angry? It's a hard place to be -- both infinitely grateful and yet, heartbroken. And that's OK....
Best to you tomorrow. May the nurses not be too chipper (hated that with my D&C's...come on! this isn't good news, you morons!). Besos y vaya con Dios.
Posted by: TexMex | 21 March 2007 at 03:03 AM
I am just so sorry you are having to go through this and be back in that dark palce all over again. I had thought you'd earned a lucky pass this time around (but silly me for forgetting IF doesn't work like that). Much love and strength to you. You're still my hero.
Posted by: threeminutepalaver | 21 March 2007 at 03:07 AM
Oh, Tertia, my heart goes out to you. I have been in a similar situation several times and I understand completely. For a long time I was so angry at my body, especially my poor ovaries...as if they were releasing crappy eggs on purpose.
I wish you didn't have to go through this. but I'm so glad you have such a fine family and circle of friends to support you and Marko through this.
I'm half a world away, too far to offer anything more tangible than good wishes and prayers. But I clasp your hand.
Posted by: Rhonda | 21 March 2007 at 03:09 AM
Tertia,
I haven't commented on your blog in ages, but please know that I am so sorry for what you are going through. Sending you many, many warm tight hugs and understanding thoughts and prayers. As I hug my now 8 year old daughter, I am very grateful and blessed as well. It doesn't make the hurt go away but it does make it easier.
Thinking of you......
Posted by: Sheri | 21 March 2007 at 03:13 AM
Holding you and your family in my heart,
Posted by: Louise | 21 March 2007 at 03:18 AM
Oh Tertia how I wish I could just reach out and hug you my dear friend. I wish I could take this damn pain away from you and through it all you still find it in your heart to remember infertile women. I am so overwhelmingly grateful that you have Kate and Adam to fill your heart with love forever. You are in my heart T.
Posted by: Charmaine | 21 March 2007 at 03:20 AM
Hi Tertia, I'm very sorry for what you're going through. The last thing I want to do is add false hope, as I'm sure your doctors have done every check possible. Protocols seems to vary so much from place to place. I too had a missed abortion, or blighted ovum, on my final IVF attempt last year. BUT I had to wait an extra two agonising weeks - on the 9th week - for the final scan which showed no heartbeat. The first scans were just to check it wasn't ectopic. I was told that earlier than that would be inconclusive, too early to see a heartbeat anyway. I went in for that scan thinking I would prove my Doubting Thomas RE wrong, because I felt SO pregnant - my stomach was huge, I had bad morning sickness etc etc. To carry on feeling sick once I knew there was no point to it was the final insult. I had to wait another week for a D&C.
Posted by: meredith | 21 March 2007 at 03:21 AM
I am a total lurker here. Adam and Kate were born the same year as my son and I fell like I have watched them grow up. I hadn't checked your blog in several months but happened upon it a week or so ago and read your (shocking!) news. I am in the process of TTC with secondary infertility and your news really gave me hope that *magically* these things can happen. Anyway, my infertile friends always tell me how lucky I am to at least have one child. And it is true - at the end of the day I go home and squeeze my son and it brings immense comfort. However, with that being said, there is nothing that takes away all of the pain of it all. It just BLOWS. I wish the best for you and your family, hope Thursday comes quickly for you, and hope that better days are ahead. Hang in there T.
Posted by: Ellen B. | 21 March 2007 at 03:21 AM
Tertia
Life is so unfair sometimes.
Bless you and your family.
Posted by: Mary | 21 March 2007 at 03:37 AM
Oh, dear. I've been hunting down my old blogs (I abandoned them all for over a year while facing down my own infertility crisis) and have just managed to work out why I can't get to Karen. She's gone password protected! I thought my computer was being a wally, but no!
Does anyone know how I can get myself invited back? Can I get myself invited back?
Ug.
Posted by: Simonne | 21 March 2007 at 03:38 AM
I'm so glad you can find solace in your two miraculous little wonders. While you will never be "over it," you will always have someone to fill your arms, love, and cherish. I wish you and yours all the best.
Posted by: Heather | 21 March 2007 at 03:39 AM
If we were friends IRL and I was in S.A. I would come over, bring a bottle of good Chardonnay and just sit with you because there are no words.
xoxo
Posted by: Suzie-Q. | 21 March 2007 at 04:04 AM
Hi Tertia,
I just discovered your blog a few days ago and I think you have a true gift for writing. For whatever it's worth, you and Marko and Adam and Kate and Couch are in my prayers tonight, specifically listed by name. I'm so sorry.
Posted by: Sarah | 21 March 2007 at 04:05 AM
Hey, just wanted to leave you a hug.
Also, I might be just holding on to hope, but I was reading this site www.misdiagnosedmiscarriage.com and thought about you.
I am sorry that you are hurting. A person I know had her first U/S they saw NOTHING. 3 weeks later they saw TWO.
I know I have no role in asking you this... but
Please do not rush into a D & C. Our bodies have a way of taking care of things for themselves.
Posted by: Lucy | 21 March 2007 at 04:32 AM
Think of all you have done for other infertile women just by being honest and straightforward about your problems, your feelings, your emotions, and your heartbreaking losses. This post (and the entire blog, for that matter) is proof positive that you are ANYTHING but fake. You are an inspiration, whether or not you want to admit it. We will love you and support you (even though we don't know you - how fucked up is that?!) no matter what happens.
Take care. I'll be thinking of you tomorrow (which for me, is right about now).
Posted by: Jamie | 21 March 2007 at 04:51 AM
Tertia, I'm so very sorry.
A long hard road is right...
Posted by: Jennifer | 21 March 2007 at 04:53 AM
Tertia, you write beautifully. I am still so sorry for what you're going through. On Thursday I'll be thinking of you and hoping things go as well as they can. The totally crappy, insensitive, and substandard care I got was horrid and just made me feel even worse. Where do they get these people that ask a woman actively miscarrying a child how she is doing or what is wrong? What kind of clinic doesn't have proper instruments to take care of such a procedure or a wheelchair to drive me down the hall? They all looked at me like I was making it up. How humilitating. I hated the doctor with his bad scratchy and coughing voice who continuted to talk about my "abortion," had his family picture with his 6 kids plastered on the wall, couldn't figure out from the ultrasound if the "tissue" (baby) had passed or not, and then left me waiting forever to do the D & C and sent me up to a ward that wasn't ready for me. When I went in for the followup appt he asked me how my "bleeding problem" was. What?? Then he told me I almost died before the D & C because my blood pressure got so low (I knew I wasn't making it up that I really didn't feel well), and that he was sure we'd get pregnant again, yeah, whatever dude. Not fun. Luckily the anesthesiologist was awesome, actually she probably saved my life. Big hugs to you.
Posted by: Heather G | 21 March 2007 at 04:54 AM
I can really relate to hating your body. I was PISSED OFF at my body when I was going through infertility. I vowed revenge. When I finally got my take-home baby through IVF, I still held a grudge. As soon as he weaned, I found little ways to rebel against my body. I'm still doing it. I drink too much red wine and coffee. I eat like CRAP when I used to eat so healthily. I don't exercise. I take a pill for everything. Just this afternoon I ate 12 homemade Nestle Toll House cookies in one sitting. I can get away with this in the short term because I'm thin and have a high metabolism, but in the long-term, my health will suffer. Right now it feels good to do whatever the hell I want to the body that made me wait so long and go through such anguish to complete my family.
I can certainly relate to feeling grateful every second for the two lovely, healthy children you do have. I'm starting to realize, though, that everyone has a picture in their mind of the ideal family. At one extreme are the Duggars, who have shorties crawling out of the woodwork, and at the other are couples who don't want kids and consider themselves a complete family of two. Luckily for me, my DH and I both think the ideal number of kids is "an heir and a spare," and we are happy with two. The fact that we have one girl and one boy is just icing on the cake. My dream finally came true.
It seems like infertility's biggest challenge is reconciling the pictures in your head with reality: pictures of the ideal family, the ideal woman. I felt like less of a woman when I was going through infertility. And if I was less of a woman, that made me less of a wife and less of a mother. So many of my dreams were threatened.
Anyway, I'm so sorry for your loss and hope you can make peace with it soon.
Posted by: Carol | 21 March 2007 at 05:07 AM
Everyone else has said it better than I could- but again, I'm so sorry that you have to go through this, and I'm so sorry it's such a familiar place for you. How I wish there was something that could help. My thoughts and prayers are with you, for what it's worth.
Posted by: shauna | 21 March 2007 at 05:11 AM
You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers.
Posted by: Melody | 21 March 2007 at 05:34 AM
I'm so sorry to read this, thinking about you so much. PLEASE just do one more scan, 1% means there is a possibility, however slight.
Posted by: Nina | 21 March 2007 at 06:11 AM
I so get everything you've said. Sitting here on the couch (after having a new hair job today to try and make myself feel better) feeling fat and empty, waiting for my D&C next Monday. Yet, I hear my son's music playing in his room and I am overwhelmed with gratitude for his life and presence. Before I had him, the ache to be a mother was so deep that it consumed me. Now, I can throw my arms around him, or rock him to sleep this evening, and the pain is manageable. Thank you for writing about all of these things that most people don't want to talk about.
Posted by: Joy | 21 March 2007 at 06:12 AM
What a emotional post. I'm so gutted that this pregnancy didn't work for you (amazing, considering I don't even know you).
Thank you for putting your heart and soul on the line once again.
Posted by: pepper | 21 March 2007 at 06:19 AM
What a emotional post. I'm so gutted that this pregnancy didn't work for you (amazing, considering I don't even know you).
Thank you for putting your heart and soul on the line once again.
Posted by: pepper | 21 March 2007 at 06:19 AM
I know you aren't preachy, but God bless you. If you lived anywhere near, I'd be bringing you some wine, and some hugs.
Posted by: Cathy | 21 March 2007 at 07:47 AM
I am a long time reader Tertia. I had tears running down my face while reading your beautiful post. I am so sorry for your loss.
You have such a gift for putting emotions into the written word.
Posted by: Sherry | 21 March 2007 at 07:52 AM
you know, i wasn't crying until i read your mom's words.
and then, the part about holding A&K. i get that way whenever i encounter any sad news about babies/life... i squeeze my son. luckily, he can't quite say 'stop it mama' yet, but one day when he does, maybe i'll pretend i didn't hear :)
love to you, T. love and strength.
Posted by: heathersak | 21 March 2007 at 08:00 AM
I could say "I'm sorry", but it would be just another I'm sorry. Truthfully, I'm angry at god because of this. This pregnancy filled me with hope for you. I got caught off guard and dared to hope good things for you because it would have been PROOF of good things for all the other infertiles out there.
My condolences to you and your family, most especially of course to you, but also to your mom who is really trying to figure out how best to hold her baby.
I'm sending my comfort and love (I know it seems inadequate and it is).
Becky
Posted by: socal | 21 March 2007 at 09:37 AM
FWIW hoping against hope that it wasn't *your* pulse. 1% is not much, but it's better than 0%. I am so, so sorry.
Posted by: Anne | 21 March 2007 at 11:35 AM
Dear Tertia,
I am so sorry about your loss. I can commiserate with you because something similar happened to me. My husband and I tried for a long time to get pg. but when it finally happened, it turned out to be a blighted ovum. I was crushed and so angry with my body that I felt like having myself sterilized, just to get some kind of control back. The words "missed abortion" on all the medical documents seemed like insult added to injury, as if I had wanted to get rid of the baby! However, our bodies were probably not responsible for these early miscarriages: for some reason nature is very inefficient in making babies; naturally, 20 - 30% of all medically confirmed pregnancies are miscarried due to incorrectly combined DNA, mismatched chromosomes or whatever. In any case, you know that you can get pregnant now on your own. Maybe it could work out for you in the future, as it eventually did for me. Whatever the case, miscarriage is a terrible thing to go through and you have my deepest sympathy.
Posted by: Dianne | 21 March 2007 at 11:51 AM
Tertia, what a beautiful post, it made me cry - heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. You are a wonderful writer & mum, and have wonderful people around you. Wishing you all the best.
Posted by: Nina | 21 March 2007 at 12:07 PM
Aw, honey. I'm just so sorry. I'm glad that you have Kate and Adam to comfort you, but I so wish that things had turned out differently.
I'm glad that you have your family and friends around you to help you get through this. I'll be thinking about you on Thursday.
Posted by: Sara | 21 March 2007 at 01:32 PM
I'm surprised, actually, that your doc gave you D & C as your only option here. I was as far along as you when I was told that it wasn't a viable pregnancy. They gave me three options 1) D & C...not recommended because of the scarring it would leave 2) let things take care of themselves, and follow up with an exam to make sure or 3) take cytotec up the coochie, which brings about a miscarriage at home. It was a week from Thanksgiving, so I went with 3. It didn't feel great, but at least I was at home with my husband and it wasn't so clinical. If I had to go through this again I would wait and see what happens. Since my miscarriage, so many women have come out and said that within a week or two the pregnancy had actually progressed...I think my doc may have been hasty. I hope yours at least put you on progesterone until Thursday, just in case. If the last scan confirms that this pregnancy isn't viable, ask about option 3...it is a lot gentler on the body, and the psyche, than a D & C.
Don't hate your body too much. It gave you two beautiful children, at the same time! which is amazing no matter how you slice it. Also, you look great in it.
Posted by: Chickenpig | 21 March 2007 at 02:12 PM
i also want to reiterate that you do have other options besides the d&c. perhaps letting the baby pass in it's own time would be easier than letting your body be scraped out (seems less of a violation to me)? or even just medically inducing the miscarriage, rather than having a scraping... it's your decision of course, i just want to make sure you know about your options. i had a late loss (23wks) so i had to give birth to her and found that the pain of giving birth actually helped me psychologically.
Posted by: debi | 21 March 2007 at 02:53 PM
You don't know me but "L" and I have been friends for some time and she directed her visitors here.
I can only say how brave your post was and how very sorry I am.
Posted by: ann adams | 21 March 2007 at 02:58 PM
Interesting, Tertia, how each of us deal with the failures of IF and pg loss. I went a different direction than you did in finding something to blame. I decided to blame society, in general. My IF was clearly due to age; I just happened to be one of those lucky gals that couldn't get pg after about 33. Before that, I had no problem. It didn't wait because "I wanted a career" or "I wanted some me time" or all those other stupid reasons the media likes to throw out. I waited because it took me that long to find a man mature enough that I wanted him to be my husband and father to my children. Frankly, most of the guys I met in my late teens/early 20's, when women are the most fertile, were overgrown babies themselves. Not only was I not interested in them, but finding a wife and starting a family was the LAST thing on their minds. So by the time I met DH, at 28, and got married at 30, I was on the tail end of my fertility.
Probably most of the eggs that didn't fertilize, and those that did and self-aborted, were perfectly good eggs 10 years earlier. I never considered it a failure of my body, but a failure of society to realize this and encourage us to "wait" to get married. Ugh. Anyway. The price so many of us pay for the "freedom" of our 20's is the struggle to build a family in our 30's and 40's. A high price, indeed.
I've been thinking of you a lot. Sometime there are no answers.
Posted by: Andrea | 21 March 2007 at 03:06 PM
I'm so sorry it has turned out like this, and yes, the phrases that (some of)the medical profession use are terrible. Like so many commenters before me, I understand the hating your body for letting you down. After 3 miscarriages, I felt my body was useless. One thing that did really help me was doing a physical challenge that I thought was beyond me - a 60km hike over several days carrying all my own kit, inc. tent, food etc. I wouldn't normally be big into hiking, but doing the challenge and realising that my body was stronger and more capable than I thought was a tremendous boost and helped me 'make friends' with my body again. Give it another couple of months and you may find that doing a physical challenge (white water rafting/climbing/walking/bungee jump - whatever takes your fancy) can help. Or maybe that's a daft idea and more wine drinking (and I certainly did plenty of that as well!) is the way to go. Take care of yourself.
Posted by: Sky | 21 March 2007 at 03:31 PM
This post embodies your amazing heart and soul. Although you are hurting so greatly right now and feel that contempt for your body - those of us on the outside still see the strong, amazing, and wonderful Tertia. The love you feel for your children is shown through the tender words you speak of them. Through your words we know what an amazing mother you are to them.
You'll be in my thoughts Thursday.
Posted by: Tammy | 21 March 2007 at 03:50 PM
Tertia - You are a strong woman. I hope with time you are able to rebuild your relationship with your body. I hope that you are able to find peace in the upcoming days. You are in my thoughts.
Simonne - Karen closed down her blog after her adoption because she was busy with her daughter and was harassed a few times too many in the comments section. Hopefully some day it will come back.
Posted by: Jennifer | 21 March 2007 at 03:55 PM
Dear Tertia,
I'm still praying for you, no matter what. And I'm like Marko hanging onto that 1% until the end. Please don't take that the wrong way- I figure everyone needs a little hope, and the fact that you still feel pregnant plus that pulse...
Big big hugs,
TwennyTwo
Posted by: TwennyTwo | 21 March 2007 at 04:13 PM
I agree with Ute. Your family (mother, Rose, etc.) loves you. They are not crying FOR you. They are crying WITH you.
And don't apologize for crying. Crying is a good thing. I am crying with you too.
Posted by: sheilah | 21 March 2007 at 04:57 PM
oof.... that's a lot to deal with.... thinking of you.
Posted by: sarah | 21 March 2007 at 06:13 PM
Roller coasters are rarely fun in real life. Your story going back and going forward is very heartwrenching and yet comforting. I believe you when you say you'll be okay; sending love right back at you. Thanks for sharing, as always. Hugs.
Posted by: AmeDame | 21 March 2007 at 06:26 PM
Another voice for waiting and making sure. The normal course of miscarriage is no longer feeling pregnant-->bleeding-->ultrasound showing no heartbeat. Many, many women who were told that the baby wasn't growing at an early routine scan, who decided to wait for a natural miscarriage, have gone on to have a baby. If you aren't having bleeding and cramps, then you're not miscarrying yet.
Posted by: Shamhat | 21 March 2007 at 07:02 PM
This is a frightening but informative site about misdiagnosed miscarriages
www.misdiagnosedmiscarriage.com
(even if only half the stories are true, scary)
Posted by: Andrea | 21 March 2007 at 08:11 PM
My heart goes out to you and your entire family. Whether they work or not, I will be praying for you. {{{hugs!}}}
Posted by: 3littlepigs | 21 March 2007 at 08:23 PM
Tertia, I am so so very sorry that this is happening to you. It's so incredibly cruel and unfair. I'm sorry that it brings you back to that dark place.... a place you shouldn't ever have to visit again. Many hugs and prayers are being sent your way.
Kay
Posted by: Kay | 21 March 2007 at 08:26 PM
Yes, my daughter is also one of those 1 per cent children, but I have a feeling that if this applied to Tertia as well, she would already have posted a new entry here today...
Posted by: Ute | 21 March 2007 at 08:27 PM
Now is probably as good a time to delurk as any. If reading supportive messages helps so much, I will write one more, wishing so badly I could do something more tangible to help.
My own fertility issues were so minor (metformin was my wonderdrug, and though I was given only a 50 percent chance at one point, the good 50 percent made it) that I was reading your blog with empathy, but not with true understanding. Then PROM happened, and respiratory distress syndrome, and infections, and as I sat pumping in the NICU, there opened up before me like an abyss this incredibly dark place that I had read about and that only some mothers (and some would-be mothers) inhabit. Knowing that I wasn’t alone, that amazingly strong women like you and Julie had been there and come back to tell the tale helped me so much in making my own way back from the edge. You even touch the life of people who don’t read your blog – the infertiles we are friends to in RL. I try to offer support the way you have educated us to do, trying to listen, to say the right things and avoid the wrong. It’s still hard, but it’s easier because you taught me.
I read your words and hug my preemie hard (there must be an awful lot of babies who got extra strong hugs today all over the world because of you) and wish there was more I could give back to you, now that you’re in the dark place. Spending the night close to Kate and Adam, and going back on AD’s asap like previous commenters have suggested sound like awfully good advice, I hope both will make things easier during the days and weeks coming up.
Posted by: Leo | 21 March 2007 at 09:27 PM
T,
(in tears again) I am so very sorry. My heart goes out to you. keep on hugging those busy two year olds and know you are loved by so many.
Posted by: katrina | 21 March 2007 at 10:35 PM
Jennifer - Thank you for letting me know. That's what I get for going underground ...
I'm so, so glad though that her adoption went through. At least that worked out for her. Bummer about the harassment though. I hope she at least gave them a cyber kick up the ass before she went!!
Posted by: Simonne | 21 March 2007 at 11:05 PM