22 May 2009

wisdom -1

So my wisdom tooth was taken out today- taking odd advantage of my non pregnant state to get it done and over with, 
and I have to say, I am a Big ole chicken about things like this. But today? Almost no anxiety- just wanted it done. And I have to say I wonder about the life I leading that something that would have had me in a blind crazed panic just does not even register on my life trauma Richter scale any more.

One less thing.

And me, now I have a gaping hole in my mouth with raw edges to keep my tongue occupied. 
And the bruise on the back of my hand in a new place, next to the bruise that just finished fading from the D&C. 

I've had the opportunity to read some blogs lately that deal directly head-on with the experience of miscarriage-- one a recent entry about a loss several years back-- and one written about a miscarriage back in 2006, but a really honest account of what not to say that nearly broke my heart. 

I admit I have not been seeking stories-- I have been googling pregnancy after miscarriage, hCG levels after D&C, I have not been looking for shared pain, or affirmation, or anything that brings me back to the realization of what happened. BUT. The universe is a strange place. 
It might not give me what I want, but sometimes it gives me exactly what I need to hear. I stumbled on one post, was given a gift of the other-- and I am so sad to read them but so glad I did. It is hard to explain what I mean, I guess. It sounds awful but it is affirming. Someone else said it, experienced it, felt it, and there is such relief in the "yeah, me too" feeling of it.

But oh how I fight against it. With busy-ness, with near amnesia of forward thinking and planning.

See, I am a coper. I cope. Once the worst part of initial grief has passed, I press on, I look forward, I want to be ok. And when grief surges, I feel cheated-- Hey! I was ok! I was all, look at me, I am COPING!  But yeah, coping and grieving can coexist. Coping does not mean grief is done having its way with me. Today marks 2 weeks since the D&C.  It feels like nearly a lifetime. But it isn't. We all know how long 2 weeks takes. It can be a blink or an eternity.

And now as I wait for my body to equilibrate, I wish I had a window into what is happening in there, will I ovulate this month, when might I bleed, can I get on with it or do I need to wait. Is my cervix closed. Am I beyond the threat of infection.  

Ahh patience. I suck at you.


Sprogblogger said...

Actually, Kate, you sound pretty wise, pretty patient. And yeah, I know exactly how you feel. It's affirming to do the 'me too,' thing, but damn, I'm coping. Lalalalalalalalala!!!

Ahem. Forward looking is how I cope, and it sounds, how you cope, too. Hoping for much to look forward to, for both of us.

Anonymous said...


Like you I initially avoided the stories of others, but I think this is why support groups work, because being part of a community and knowing you are not alone helps.

Your statement about trying to move on and being upset by the waves of grief that come and go is so TRUE. I would get so upset w/ myself when after two days of being fine I'd want to hide under blankets and cry my eyes out. I wanted to move on. I've accepted now that part of mnoving on is also not judging yourself when the pain is too much.

Ive honestly found that when I was suppressing my pain it was more painful. Like a leaky dam struggling to explode. a few times I just lay in bed put on sad songs and let myself cry. I let it all out without judging myself nad it helped.

Ofcourse no one should let themselves get so consumed with it that they lose themselves completely. I think you have the right attitude, but just be patient with yourself. We're all human and our pain is the basest and perhaps truest part of our humanity.

Anonymous said...

Just ((HUGS))

onwardandsideways said...

I too am a coper. Although I think of it as being a 'survivor.' I always survive. Always. Not surviving scares the shit out of me.

I am glad you found those posts. Putting words to the pain can be so helpful in moving forward.

Thank you again for your sweet comment. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the support.

I know the waiting and the wondering and the what ifs and the will I evers are so hard to keep out of your head. I know this so well.

I wish you peace and clarity and deep breaths that clear your body of all fear, with heaping doses of courage and strength.

IF Optimist, then... said...

I'm sending you as much love and positive vibes from far away Seattleland to help you and your husband in this difficult time of healing.

Joannah said...

I'm a coper too. Couldn't stop crying on Monday. But now I'm over the shock and fear. Just ready to do what it takes to move forward.

IVF 40+ said...

when I m/c the first time and the physical and emotional pain was overwhelming I was told grief is an action as much as an emotion -its slamming doors, crying, fighting with those we love, running too hard at the gym or not at all. Grief is the all consuming tempest and we, the rational self, just have to hold on tight to those around us.

We (the collective bloggies) are really strong and won't let go till the clouds part.

K said...

Ahhh. It's all a cirlce. Or a cycle (yeah, no pun intended). Grief and cope and hope. They all sort of run together in an endless sort of way. Without one, we would not have the other. It's managing the whole process that's hard. You're doing it though. Kudos.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for posting the links to those blogs, I had already seen the current one (which touched my heart) but the earlier one with the list of what to not say was great. I keep remembering my SIL having a m/c years ago (she has 3 kids now) and I just never said anything. I felt bad at the time but I didn't know what to say, and they were 2000 miles away...
But I did the best I could then, and now I know better.

Kate said...

Hey there. This is Kate who wrote the second post. I am not sure how you found me, but I found you via Sarah--perhaps your path was the same. I am so sorry for your loss. It is heartbreaking and so fucking unfair. Although my path to that pregnancy was different, I can so much relate to this feeling of having lost something that was so miraculous--a pregnancy that defied the odds of a crappy cycle. I don't think this is something you ever get over. The disbelief gets replaced by anger, anger replaced by sadness. But sadness remains. Time dulls it but can not wipe it away. You are in a horrible place right now, and I am sorry. I remember this place so clearly, even though it's been 2 1/2 years. I am so sorry. I will be thinking of you--and reading up on what I missed. Take care.