Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Lightning strikes twice.

I’ve started this post about a hundred times, and it’s strange that I’m even hesitant to type it. I’m never at a loss for words from these fingers. Never. I’ve always maintained that this blog is for me. It’s my outlet, my therapy. So this one is really for me. Not you.

First, I’m sorry to my closest and best, who will read this and wonder why I didn’t tell you in person. Here’s the thing: I can’t. I genuinely cannot speak the words.

I had another miscarriage.

On Tuesday, July 17, Joe and I went for our 8 week ultrasound. Everything looked great. 1 baby. 1 healthy, strong heartbeat.

On Wednesday, I designed our “We’re moving!” postcards. They were super cute, and signed “Love: Joe, Kristi, Alex & Baby Van Wormer (coming March 2013!).”

On Thursday, we went to dinner as a family—at Alex’s favorite, Buffalo Wild Wings. He calls it the “macawoni restaurant.” We talked about which room he wanted, and which room the baby would get.

On Friday, I started bleeding. Joe took me to the emergency room. We’d been down that road before, so I knew the look in the ultrasound tech’s eyes when she discovered the unthinkable. She didn’t even have to say anything.

I’m not totally sure where to go from here. I was half laughing, half crying on the way home from the hospital, questioning to Joe how lightning could possibly strike twice. He offered a perspective of grace, saying, “Maybe lightning struck once, and Alex is simply our greatest blessing. Maybe he’s the miracle we weren’t supposed to have.”

Even with that, it’s still hard to understand. I know I’m not alone—but still, with miscarriage rates at 4.2% at 7 weeks after a heartbeat is heard, that’s a pretty inaccurate lightning bolt. A lightning bolt that I’m really, really pissed at.

What seems even more unfair and cruel is the physical process of the actual miscarriage itself. Last time, I didn’t have to experience the shittiest parts, because everything was removed surgically. So the “aftermath” was really just some light period bleeding. Nothing, really.

You would think that God would have a little more mercy for the process, you know? I’ll talk about it here in gruesome detail because I don’t think many women (or doctors, for that matter) do. I realize that the body is expelling something, so it’s not going to be easy or pain-free. But my GOD it hurts. It hurts like the fury of a thousand gnomes clambering at your pelvis. When you go to the bathroom you see and smell things that cannot be unseen or unsmelled. And then, to top off this entirely shitty and painful process, you then have to actually pass the mass that used to be your baby. And look at it sitting in the bottom of a toilet. And then flush it down that toilet. Forever. And if you are lucky enough to do that last part at work like I was, you sit in the bathroom shaking for 20 minutes until you have to courage to hit that asshole of a toilet handle and walk away. That might seem like an extremely callous way to put it, but it’s the honest and painful truth.

And then, somehow, I prayed. Well, it was less of a prayer and more of an interrogation with God. I genuinely cannot understand why considering the circumstances He couldn’t make the physical part of this process easier somehow. The emotional part I can get through. This baby simply wasn’t meant to happen. Strangely, I can very easily wrap my head around that. And maybe I’m in the minority with that acceptance, but it’s simply how I feel. The physical reminders are simply unnecessary if you ask me. I give them the big, fat middle finger.

So here we are again. It’s a whole new set of emotions and I am absolutely furious that I have more babies in heaven than I do on earth. I honestly never thought I’d be here, in this place. But with time comes healing, and I know we’ll see the other side eventually.

I’ll repeat what I said last time: Forgive me for being so bold as to say I don't want your sorry. So don't give it to me. Instead, send a smile, hug, or a large Diet Coke from McDonalds. And if you put a little rum in it, I won’t tell.


Lindsey Wolfe said...

I just took a long pull of my McDonalds diet coke in your amazing honor. *HUG*

Mrs. C. said...

I'm so sorry for what you are going through. I don't have kids yet and so I can't imagine the pain you are in, but your words bring tears to my eyes and an ache in my heart. I'm at a lack for words that would comfort you right now. Know that you're in my prayers. *hug*

Kim and Steve said...

Hugs to you.

Katherine said...

I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I love you Kristi!
I think it is so awesome that you are willing to share something this personal with the world.
One of the hardest things about loosing a child for me was looking around at all of the other families who seem to build their family with ease and feeling like I was the only one. Or, knowing that someone had lost a child, but thinking I was weird for grieving. You are providing something great to other women who have experienced or will experience loss and I love you for it! You encourage me to be a real on Adaline's blog!

fallgirly said...

I have been reading your blog religiously since we were both pregnant at the same time. My girl was born on May 15,2009. I cried when you had your miscarriage. I have been unsuccessfully trying to conceive baby 2 for over a year. Every day I read updates on your house and wonder if you are going to announce another pregnancy and was shocked to read this post. I am so sorry. Unlike you I have never had a miscarriage so I can't imagine the pain you must feel. I just know the emotional of wanting. I too thought it would be so easy with baby 2 and just like your hobby mine tries to console me with how blessed we are with one. It doesn't really help much but I know he means well. Have you done any testing? Fertility wise? We started it but each appointment is so incredibly expensive and my insurance doesn't cover it. I just continue to hear of more family and friends good news and smile and try not to feel broken.

Christy said...

I have been glued to your blog since the days of swollen feet & hilarious prego updates. I fell so hard that I'd print out your stories & take them to work holding my gut as I said, "You HAVE to read this. I love this girl. Absolutely hilarious." I've watched all the extreme cuteness photos you post of your handsome boy & I'm not going to lie....each time I see a new post I secretly hope it's your "baby #2 on the way post." You have an incredibly awesome perspective on parenting & your family is so lucky to have you. You are such a strong voice to your blog followers & I have no doubt your story touches MANY lives. God has a plan & although we don't always know it, it always works out. Thanks for sharing. I will sip my rum & diet coke for ya tonight. )