I don't feel so great today. Unsettled, disappointed, depressed. Getting lasik surgery was supposed to be my consolation prize for losing the baby; now it looks like I don't get First Place or the consolation prize. No prizes for me. No silver lining, no green grass, no happy ending. They told me to come back in a week and they'll re-run the eye tests to be certain.

Thank goodness I already had something good planned for this week.

I leave tomorrow to go visit friends. My first stop is Heather, the recipient of all those squares I've been crocheting. We will have a nice couple of days of pure crafting, and I can have some precious company while I get some more work done on my afghans. My next stop is AirForceFamily. AirForceGuy has even arranged a Top Secret excursion, something that even required some sort of security clearance. I am so curious to see what it is. (And so is my husband, apparently!)

You know, I was supposed to take this trip in May, but a dead baby threw a monkey wrench in it. I am really glad that I happened to reschedule for right now, because I could use the distraction and the joy in my life.

Today will go down as a really bad day in my life: the day I felt extra salt in my wounds. But if this is the worst day I ever have to face, then I will have lived a very good life.

It just sucks today.
But my vacation will help boost my spirits.

And I'm taking the laptop, so I hope to stick around the 'sphere...

Posted by: Sarah at 12:40 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 284 words, total size 2 kb.

I can't carry a baby.
And my corneas are too thin for lasik.
I hate my body.

Posted by: Sarah at 05:45 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 23 words, total size 1 kb.

1 *hugs* Sarah.

Posted by: Emily at July 11, 2008 06:19 AM (cZoqf)

2 Wow. That is too much. But you ARE healthy otherwise, right? (I know. Dontcha hate positive thinkers?)

Posted by: Tonya at July 11, 2008 06:53 AM (KV0YP)

3 oh sarah. I am sorry to hear this. Thinking of you & sending hugs.

Posted by: keri at July 11, 2008 07:40 AM (HXpRG)

4 One of my doctors once told me that I should not hate my body. I was having some real problems, I didn't lose any babies, but I felt it had really let me down. He was right, but sometimes that is so hard to do. Right now I'm at the computer a lot because I am so bored and hating my body because it is hurting from arthritis and I can't do anything else. I love working in my yard, bending over just makes so much pain. I understand how you feel, you are entitled. I guess at 71 I just keep thinking I should feel like I'm 35, but that is how old I was when he told me that, same problem, just in the hip then. It moves around and comes and goes and I know this too shall pass. And I'm hoping your troubles too will pass.

Posted by: Ruth H at July 11, 2008 11:09 AM (FAgoX)

5 *hugs* I can't imagine how frustrating this must be for you. I am glad to see you had some fits of laughter today, though. Take care.

Posted by: Butterfly Wife at July 11, 2008 11:43 AM (u16Hw)

6 That sucks. I'm sorry. Can I buy you a drink?

Posted by: Allison at July 11, 2008 12:39 PM (jUCsS)

7 {{{hug}}} That sucks big donkey balls. I'm sorry.

Posted by: HomefrontSix at July 11, 2008 05:04 PM (IBZY9)

8 That SUCKS.

Posted by: Guard Wife at July 12, 2008 01:20 PM (ccp31)

9 货架、 货架

Posted by: at March 01, 2009 04:31 AM (+Xe1F)

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My mother and I planted a vegetable garden while she was here, and I had four thriving, big tomato plants on the back fence. I go out there tonight and find this.

Every second plant was stripped completely bare. No leaves. Huh? I move in for a closer look.

Two of the fattest, grossest caterpillars took up residence in my garden. Both totally engorged with an entire tomato plant. They were about four inches long and as thick around as a Tootsie Roll.

Blech.

Naturally, I pried them off with a spatula and dumped them over the fence into the neighbor's yard. They don't have anything planted in their yard anyway.

I'm bad.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:39 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 Growing up it used to be a contest to see who could find the tomato worm first. Sometimes it was quite a challange, and if you are very quiet sometimes you can hear them chomping away. We would usually torture them once we found them.

Posted by: Kellee at July 10, 2008 03:19 AM (w2MFa)

2 To use a very old SNL phrase, "It's always something!" Tomato hornworms should be smashed immediately, they will turn into moths that come back, lay more eggs, make more worms. An endless cycle.I don't have any here, don't need them. We have leaf cutter ants that come overnight and do the job instead of them. Went out this morning with coffee cup in hand, only to find pepper plants stripped. They will even take the little peppers. They take them to their nests to plant their fungus gardens! The only plants they haven't taken at one time is mother of million kalanchoe plant, one I detest and is a pest! and cacti. They don't eat anything but the flower stems of aloe vera, so I never get to see them bloom. They love flower buds. So do the deer. So I'm turning this into a rant. Oh well. Sarah, next time you see those critters smash them!!

Posted by: Ruth H at July 10, 2008 03:43 AM (4u82p)

3 Oh, Ruth...they were SO fat; it grosses me out to think of smashing such a fat bug. There would be smashed bug everywhere! Ewwww.

Posted by: Sarah at July 10, 2008 04:32 AM (TWet1)

4 Yeah I don't squish either. That's what RAID is for. Sorry about your tomato's. You could still start over with cherry tomato's and get some fruit.

Posted by: Mare at July 10, 2008 05:08 AM (APbbU)

5 Yep, Ruth, remember how D. would smash them for me when he was young. Give the kid a brick and he was lethal! ;0)

Posted by: tt at July 10, 2008 06:05 AM (S/Fac)

6 I took a bunch of pictures of my beautiful, ruby-red strawberries, which I protected with bird netting last year and thought would protect them this year. I walked out the door the very next day, and they were ALL GONE. I think some critters (deer? raccoons?) came and got 'em. Oh well, at least I got pictures!

Posted by: Deltasierra at July 10, 2008 12:35 PM (7uphd)

7 I hesitated to tell you the easiest way to "terminate" the hornworms...pair of scissors...cut them in half...not as messy as squashing (and truth be told I don't look when I do it)

Posted by: Mary*Ann at July 10, 2008 07:23 PM (lnAFP)

8 Well, a jar of water works too, just put them in and hide it so you don't have to see it. Just don't let them live. I don't like to smash them directly either, put them under the mulch and step on them, that works. They are bio-degradable! ;D

Posted by: Ruth at July 11, 2008 05:29 AM (BkiKe)

9 My dad used to feed them to our (very small) dog. I watched her eat one once and nearly threw up. I thought for sure she was going to choke on that huge, thick, squishy thing. Yuck.

Posted by: Ivy at July 11, 2008 07:42 AM (A1thK)

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So I just wrote this morning about how safe and easy this deployment is. Now I'm going to write something mildly contradictory.

CaliValleyGirl just pointed me in the direction of the I Should Be Folding Laundry blog. This blogger, Beth, sounds like the kind of woman I'd like to be. Everyone speaks glowingly of her. She lost her pregnancy (twins) back in February, and this is what haunts her now:

So, on February 25th, 2008, when the nurse could not find their heart beats, I was fearful and faithful, I had faith as I took the elevator down to ultrasound, faith that these babies would soon be kicking me in my ribs. I had faith.

But then I watched the words "no cardiac movement" being typed slowly with one hand onto the screen. A piece of me died at the moment. And sometimes? I think that piece of me was my faith.

Because now I tread through life cautiously, I fear cars running into our's and injuring my children, I don't get my hopes up for our new house because I'm certain the deal will fall through, even with the closing being less than a week away. I fear another pregnancy, I fear I'll never see Brian again when he leaves for a business trip, I fear for Be Design, I have lost faith in myself and people and my surroundings.

I fear the rug being pulled out from beneath me in every situation.

I understand this "loss of faith" completely. I was carefree going into this second pregnancy, but when it too ended, a part of me worries that this will always be my fate. I actually plan to lose the next baby, figuring out who I'll call and what I'll do. I imagine giving all my baby stuff away in the future because I've never used it and the tags are still on.

And the worst of this is the nagging feeling that the loss of this pregnancy means the loss of bigger things. I've imagined my parents dying before they get to become grandparents. I've imagined losing a brother. I imagine someone breaking into the house and killing Charlie. Or me. And I often have the ridiculously morbid thought that "at least I won't be pregnant when the Army comes to the door and tell me my husband is dead." Because the only reason I can see for denying me the joy of a baby is to spare me the agony of raising the baby alone.

So I worry about my husband, not because there's anything to worry about but because I too fear the rug being pulled out from under me.

And then last night in my book, A Short History of Nearly Everything, I read about the likelihood of an asteroid hitting earth and killing us all. So there's that rug to worry about too.

Posted by: Sarah at 06:01 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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When my mom was here, I was on and on about something. I can't even remember what. She looked at me incredulously and said, "And I thought I worried about stuff."

Today has been a day of worrying.

I got an email from a friend; her sister just lost a pregnancy and had to have a D&C. They couldn't stop the bleeding afterwards, and she nearly died. Four hours of surgery and many transfusions later, she is OK.

A D&C did that. I just had one of those.

I know there are risks in everything. Hell, I am planning on having someone shine laser beams into my eyeballs soon. But this got to me, this scared me. This thing I've been trying to do for a year and a half, this having a baby, it can kill you.

So I've been a little freaked out today. And I started thinking about Sis B and her Scheduled Worry Time. So I popped on over to her site to check on things, since she'd been having some early contractions.

Baby Crush was born. Early. And little.

Wait...a 4 lb baby? A little preemie? Who needs a hat? Hot dog, I'm on it.

I'm glad Sis B and Crush are OK. One less thing to worry about today.

Posted by: Sarah at 10:58 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I've been feeling pretty mopey they last few days. No real reason, just bummed. I had this exchange with my husband yesterday:

Sarah: I'm feeling kinda down. I've been listening to The Cure a lot lately.
Husband: Oh God! Don't do that!

His exclamation was too funny; he knew right away what listening to too much Robert Smith can do to your head.

I also had a dream last night where I was trying to find a date for prom. Every boy I ever had the hots for in my life made an appearance in the dream, and every single one of them rejected me for a date. I think that says a lot about what's going on somewhere in my subconscious too.

My bio of George Washington wasn't doing much for me either way, so I left him right as the Revolution was starting and switched books. I was given a book called Stolen Angels at the miscarriage support meeting, so I thought I'd give that a try. And while I was heartened to find that many of the stories had elements that were similar to mine, I found myself coming away from the book armed with knowledge I didn't want to have. I found myself daydreaming stuff like, "When the next baby dies, I will do X differently." Not exactly positive thinking. So I set that book aside for a while too.

I picked up A Short History of Nearly Everything, and a wave of peace rushed over me. I had forgotten how calming it is to read about the universe. How much it puts my hill of beans in perspective. How much comfort Sagan's cosmic calendar brings to me.

I read this paragraph with wonderment:

Not only have you been lucky enough to be attached since time immemorial to a favored evolutionary line, but you you have also been extremely - make that miraculously - fortunate in your personal ancestry. Consider the fact that for 3.8 billion years, a period of time older than the Earth's mountains and rivers and oceans, every one of your forebears on both sides has been attractive enough to find a mate, healthy enough to reproduce, and sufficiently blessed by fate and circumstances to live long enough to do so. Not one of your pertinent ancestors was squashed, devoured, drowned, starved, stranded, stuck fast, untimely wounded, or otherwise deflected from its life's quest of delivering a tiny charge of genetic material to the right partner at the right moment in order to perpetuate the only possible sequence of hereditary combinations that could result - eventually, astoundingly, and all too briefly - in you.

I want to participate in "life's quest of delivering a tiny charge of genetic material" too. But today I'm centered enough to realize that it's miracle enough that I'm even here, and that my desires are tiny on the scale of the cosmos.

And no more The Cure for a while.

Posted by: Sarah at 05:24 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 Very cool quote. Talk about things that put your whole existence into perspective. I never thought about my life quite like that, but had been on the cusp of a similar idea just like that before. Weird, but that was a "pick me up" quote a little. How can I be sad (because the last few days I've been pretty down too) when someone tells me how miraculous it is that I even exist? Nice one.

Posted by: Sara at July 01, 2008 06:17 AM (SZeN8)

2 Love the quote. Boiled down to my rural upbringing, "A lid for every pot..." So funny you mentioned the Cure. I listened to them last night in the last leg of my walk. Maybe that's why all my muscles feel mopey today??

Posted by: Guard Wife at July 01, 2008 06:26 AM (lougU)

3 So The Cure...wasn't? Sorry, just had to.

Posted by: tim at July 01, 2008 07:11 AM (nno0f)

4 That's an awesome quote, I really like that. I'll have to check out that book.

Posted by: loquita at July 01, 2008 02:23 PM (X0NT2)

5 Ha! Yeah, I'd definitely stay away from Morrissey as well. I love that quote. You sound like me. I always have 4-5 books going at once, depending on my current mood. Sounds like you're recovering well. That's good to see.

Posted by: Tonya at July 02, 2008 06:09 AM (KV0YP)

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I havenÂ’t been writing about how IÂ’m doing because 1) most of the time IÂ’m doing fine and 2) I feel self-conscious about the hint I've gotten that I need to get over myself. But writing is my way of processing things, so today I could use that therapy.

When I was pregnant, I ordered more contact lenses. I hadnÂ’t been in to pick them up yet. So while I was on my way over there, I was rehearsing in my mind what IÂ’d say. I got a feel for the words before I got to the shop. But when I got up to the counter and the girl asked me why I wanted a refund, the words wouldnÂ’t come out. They were replaced by a lump in the back of my throat.

Just say it. You can do it. Just say, “I ordered these while I was pregnant, but since I lost the pregnancy, my consolation prize is gonna be lasik surgery. Ha ha ha.” Just say it. Ha ha ha.

I think the girl sensed that something was wrong, because she said, “I’ll just check the box for ‘bought too many boxes.’” Yep, one box, that’s too many. Then I felt awkward for making the situation awkward and thought I’d better explain before she thinks I’m a freak. But still the words wouldn’t come.

Most of the time IÂ’m fine, until I have to say the words out loud.

I went to a support group meeting on post the other night, a child loss group. I havenÂ’t been sleeping well since my mom left, and if it worked for Tyler Durden, I thought maybe it might work for me. The ladies in the group were really nice and made me feel entirely welcomed, but I think in some ways it made me feel worse. These are ladies who birthed severely premature babies, but babies nonetheless. They had faces and names and lived for a week on machines. They had funerals and were buried in gowns that people I knit with had made and donated. I just felt stupid mourning the little gummy bear that I lost.

I am JoeÂ’s heaping tablespoon of Perspective.

So most of the time, IÂ’m fine. But every once in a while I get not fine, like when I do something that I wouldnÂ’t be doing if I were pregnant, like mowing the yardÂ…or drinking wine. And I try to resist those feelings inside of me. I try to suppress my inner Dante Hicks, try not to feel like IÂ’m not even supposed to be here, try not to live in this alternate reality where IÂ’m pregnant and happy and shouldnÂ’t be mowing. But itÂ’s hard, because thatÂ’s the parallel universe I want to be living in.

I donÂ’t want to be getting lasik, even though IÂ’ve waited two years to do it.

Maybe I'll just start a fight club.

Posted by: Sarah at 06:01 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
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1 First, never ever apologize for your feelings or writing about them. Forget the nasties that troll around telling you how you should handle your feelings and your blog. Second, a loss is a loss even though they were at different stages. Yours is no less significant. Everything is relative to the lives we live and our circumstances. There are no rules that say you can't do 'x' unless 'y' happens. Hang in there...there will come a point that it will be better. Take the steps you need to get there and don't let it get you down if it comes with a step or two back. Sending prayers and good wishes your way.

Posted by: Susan at June 27, 2008 07:11 AM (4aKG6)

2 First rule of Fight ClubÂ… Listen to Susan, sheÂ’s got a lot of wisdom.

Posted by: tim at June 27, 2008 07:22 AM (nno0f)

3 Never apologize for how you feel. Ever. It's just how it is. Losses are hard to process, sometimes you have good and bad days. Never measure yours against another's. Each pain in unique, just like the individuals we lost and who we're mourning for.

Posted by: Mare at June 27, 2008 09:08 AM (APbbU)

4 Sarah, what is with the comments on the orig post you linked to? Whack. I wouldn't worry too much over people who tell you to get over yourself. Especially on your personal blog. Seems a bit forward to tell a person that. And nonsensical. While it brings a smile, calling your baby a gummy bear does nothing to make your loss any less worthy of mourning. I really like the way Susan worded it about taking the steps to get to a better place, but allowing yourself the occasional steps back without being too hard on yourself. Definitely a great thing to strive for. Good thoughts and loved the laugh over at spousebuzz. I remember thinking to myself how unwelcoming we are to our guests comparatively. Glad I wasn't the only one.

Posted by: wifeunit at June 27, 2008 10:42 AM (J+xCo)

5 I feel you with the crying thing. I lost a baby at 4 weeks just over a month ago. Hardly even a pregnancy really. If I had waited one more day to take the test I wouldn't even have been really sure that I was pregnant. I cried, then thought I got over it. Went to the doctor for a totally unrelated matter. Walked in thinking about how I should tell him about it while I was there, totally fine, not upset at all. I went to tell him about it and burst into tears. I didn't even see them coming! So, hang in there. And as for the apologies for writing about your feelings...you have been helping me. So don't let those negative comments stop you from writing what YOU want on YOUR blog. If they don't like it they don't have to come here. Stephanie

Posted by: stephanie at June 27, 2008 11:56 AM (UOBc4)

6 Sarah, what you have to get over is feeling that ANYONE else has the right to tell you how to feel. (So here I am telling you how to feel) If writing your thoughts on your blog helps, do it! None of us are obligated to read this. Most of us do it because he have come to like and respect you and we wish you the best. Your little gummy bear had all your hopes and aspirations any mother gives her baby. And I for one thank God he didn't have to go through any intensive care before he died. Sounds cruel I know, but that is another thing I have never had to face and am glad for it and I'm glad you didn't have to face it either. BUT, that doesn't make your loss any less hard to take or any less wrenching for you. Write all you want, we can handle it.

Posted by: Ruth H at June 27, 2008 11:56 AM (4eLhB)

7 Something I was told when I was going through grief was this: Grief is ALWAYS 100%. You don't ever 75% grieve for someone. I will also say if that group makes you feel worse, find another one. Might there be one for people who have been through miscarriages? Do you know anyone you could ask?

Posted by: Val at June 27, 2008 01:11 PM (6RyTP)

8 Do not get over it... a gummy bear it was not. It was a baby. In your heart, and mind he or she was the FUTURE. Your future with this baby....that is worth mourning over.

Posted by: awtm at June 27, 2008 06:53 PM (Vd+VZ)

9 I agree: It doesn't matter when someone loses a baby--the result is the same. It doesn't matter if your baby was hooked up to machines or only visible on a sonogram. It was the potential, the future, of this new life that you were robbed of. You have every right to mourn or be sad about that being taken from you. Don't let anybody make you feel bad about that, including yourself.

Posted by: Ann M. at June 28, 2008 05:34 AM (HFUBt)

10 Ditto to all of the good and kind words posted here. Your blog,write about what's on our mind, that's the Sarah we love.

Posted by: MaryIndiana at June 28, 2008 09:59 AM (Sc9ll)

11 Sarah- It's ok to be not fine. I think that sometimes we tell ourselves that we have to hold it all together... for your readers, for the store clerk, for yourself even... but in reality, why? I am person who is always trying to keep it together... and if I think about it, I don't really know why. Perhaps I am afraid of the repercussions of not doing so... which in my case, would mean that maybe others would think I was nuts, or pity me. I owe it to myself to just let go sometimes, and so do you : ) Also, even though my situation is totally different... I get you with the parallel universe... It is very difficult to live with one reality when you want so badly to have another.

Posted by: Hope at June 28, 2008 10:32 AM (SgiEp)

12 I agree w/everyone else 100%. You feel however you need to & write about it with wild abandon. If someone doesn't like it, send 'em my way--I have a lot of pent up aggression right now that I'd like to work out. Let me take this comment down the second path of your post by telling you -- giving this gift to yourself will change your life. Don't underestimate the joy found in seeing an alarm clock in the morning without your contacts or glasses. I know pales in comparison to your heart's true desire, but I also know you deserve to do something this special for yourself. I had my eyes lasered while Hubs was deployed and it was an amazingly good decision. This will be good for you too.

Posted by: Guard Wife at June 28, 2008 12:16 PM (ccp31)

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I've been quoting John Prine a lot these days, haven't I?

You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,
throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"
but it don't do no good to get angry,
so help me I know

For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
wrapped up in a trap of your very own
chain of sorrow.

Last miscarriage, I was angry. This time I just feel numb. And defeated. Reality is starting to sink in, and I'm sad. My husband said it best: Now we're just that much further from meeting our son or daughter, the child whose name we picked out during the Clinton administration and who won't be born until well into the next administration. So much time, wasted.

I feel like the last year and a half has been an hourglass, and I keep watching the sand slip through but there's nothing I can do to stop it.

I am Joe's ticking biological clock.

Last week when I dropped my mother off at the airport, I felt sad that she might not get to spend enough time with her grandchild. This week, I choked up because there is no grandchild anymore. What a difference a week makes.

Another week I can't put back into the hourglass.

And you carry those bruises
to remind you wherever you go.

Posted by: Sarah at 10:55 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I saw an ad the other day: 50% all buttons. So I went, of course, my first trip out of the house in days. I was standing there with about ten cards of buttons in my hands when a mother and probably 3-year-old daughter walked up. The mother told her daughter that she could pick out one card of buttons. The little girl ooohed and aaahed, asked "Ich unn you like, Mommy?" and got super-excited about picking out her buttons. I watched with a big smile, and finally said to the mother, "You know, someday she's going to be like me, doing the same thing when she's 30."

And I thought, maybe having a little girl wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she'd love buttons too.

I'm doing OK. I have one hang-up though: I don't want to stop wearing maternity clothes. I picked out so many nice things, and comfortable things. I want to wear them. I want to grow into them. But I won't. And I don't want to take them off. Like my heart panics when I think about going back to wearing regular clothes.

I'm starting a trend: non-pregnant crazy ladies who wear maternity shirts.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:03 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I wanted to give a shout-out to my poor in-laws too. Last December, my Christmas present was supposed to be maternity clothes and baby stuff. My poor mother-in-law had to go out at the last minute and re-shop for me after the miscarriage. And this week, she sent a big box to me for our wedding anniversary...of maternity clothes and baby stuff. She put it in the mail before we got the bad news, so she felt terrible that that's what she had sent.

At least she didn't send a dead bird!

I taught my mother-in-law to knit about the same time we started trying to have a baby, so she has been making little baby things all along. She started a blanket for Baby #1 and then stopped abruptly and put it away. When Baby #2 had a heartbeat, she pulled it back out and finished it. And mailed it to me this week. I know she probably thinks it's a burden to me, but it really is quite lovely and I'm happy to have it.

And we'll put a baby in it someday, I promise.

Posted by: Sarah at 12:59 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I look all squinty and goofy in this picture, but my dad looks great.

My dad is not the most emotional guy, but he's been very sweet these past few days. My mom has kept him updated on what's going on, and he's been loving and nice. When I talked to him today, I ended the conversation by saying, "OK, well have a good day!" and he made sure to interject with an "I love you" before I hung up the phone. That's not my dad's normal instinct, so it was very sweet. I know he loves me; he just doesn't say it all the time. But it was nice to hear today.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. Sorry I kept Mom away from home today.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:53 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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1 What a great photo. Your dad & my dad would get along, it sounds like.

Posted by: Guard Wife at June 16, 2008 08:13 AM (ccp31)

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When I woke up, I had in mind all these reasons that today would suck. But today is half over, and it's not turning out half bad. I don't feel that sucky. I feel at peace.

The miscarriage is over. I took the medicine yesterday morning after I wrote that blog post, and I miscarried the baby in the early afternoon. Stacy, who's been through this before, warned me that I might not want to look. But as soon as he came out (yes, I took to calling him a "he," even though it was far too early to tell), I knew that wasn't the right choice for me. I held my little baby in my hand and was able to look at him and love him. I marveled over the little buds where his arms would grow and the tiny umbilical cord, as thin as thread. And I didn't want to let him go. But I had to say goodbye, and so I did.

It was the closure I needed; it was the closure I didn't get with the D&C. It was a little funeral, a ritual, a passage I needed to go through. I am very glad I had to do it this way.

And so he's gone. And I'm OK.

What I mourn right now is my future. My deployment was going to be filled with baby milestones and a growing belly to mark time. Now it seems empty. There will be no joy to fill the next seven months, no baby to keep me company, and no new definition of family to look forward to when my husband returns.

It's just me, in the house, alone. And that's part of the reason that, even though the baby was dead, I didn't want to let him go. I didn't want to be left alone.

I didn't want to give up my future. Because now the future is uncertain again.

Posted by: Sarah at 06:42 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Overall, today was not as painful as I thought it would be. I am sure the percocet makes the difference though. The pain is manageable.

When my mother went to extend her plane ticket, the only choice was a week later. I didn't really think I wanted or needed her here another full week. I thought I could do this on my own. I don't like when people see me in pain, or see me cry, or see me struggle. But my mother insisted that she was staying a week.

I am really glad she did.

She was a big help today, especially when the going got tough. And it got pretty tough a couple of times. But she was here, and she was right on the same wavelength as I was. It was nice.

I am glad I didn't go this alone.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:57 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 I'm so sorry. I just thought I'd check in and then I read the news. I'm crying over here. I remember what my miscarriage felt like but to experience two in a row? Pure agony. I'm so sad for how you feel right now. I didn't realize you couldn't have two D&C's in a row either. Happy that your mom is there. Thinking of and praying for you and husband.

Posted by: Tonya at June 14, 2008 04:33 PM (g+gHl)

2 I'm so glad your mom is there and is a comfort to you. One of the biggest lessons I've learned over the past few years is how to accept help. Thinking of you and your hubby.

Posted by: Sis B at June 14, 2008 05:28 PM (0ZS+T)

3 Please remember you are never alone. You are one of the bravest women I have the privilege of knowing. I think about you and Russ on a constant basis. You are in my heart and in my prayers. I wish I could run next door and give you a hug. I hope to see you soon. j

Posted by: jennifer at June 14, 2008 05:54 PM (5Srz/)

4 I am extremely grateful that your Mom is there.

Posted by: Allison at June 14, 2008 06:24 PM (T/z1O)

5 I'm so glad your mom is able to be there for you. I'm sure it makes things a little easier. Thinking of you here.

Posted by: Tania at June 14, 2008 07:52 PM (61DKW)

6 I'm so glad your mother is there with you. I would be so worried if you were alone. Yes, you're strong. But no need to test your limits any further. You have been constantly on my mind. *hugs*

Posted by: FbL at June 14, 2008 10:02 PM (HwqvF)

7 I just stopped by to check in and read of your loss. I am so sorry. You and your DH will be in my prayers for a long time. Thank goodness your mom was able to stay with you. My heart aches for you all.

Posted by: Mary at June 14, 2008 10:35 PM (3k4VW)

8 Team Sarah's Mom!

Posted by: MaryIndiana at June 16, 2008 09:56 AM (Sc9ll)

9 I am so sorry for your loss. Thank goodness your Mom was there to be with you.

Posted by: Barb at June 17, 2008 11:04 AM (iaV9O)

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Let's celebrate life.

These are growing in my backyard.

We can have a miniature dinner.

Posted by: Sarah at 11:08 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I wrote over at SpouseBUZZ about the headache of trying to reach my doctor yesterday. One thing I forgot to mention was that, when the doctor was advising me on whether to have another D&C or to use the medicine, he said something to the effect of, "One thing is that surgeries are expensive, not to you but to the taxpayer, if that's of any concern to you." Now there's a man after my own heart!

As I sit here in agony today, I will keep reminding myself that I am saving the taxpayers money. I know that probably sounds like sarcasm, but I mean it in all seriousness. Every little bit helps.

And to call this "medicine" seems odd to me. It's more like poison. You put it in your body, and your body says, "Oh no no no, we need to get this out." It twists and contorts and ravages you.

Abortions are D&Cs and not this medicine, right? I wager we'd see less abortions if people were forced to go through this.

And I've only just begun.

Posted by: Sarah at 07:53 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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When I was in college, I had a pet goldfish that I loved. And the inevitable happened, as it always does. One day he started doing that dance with death: float to the top, sink to the bottom, turrrrn slowly onto his back, right himself forcefully, over and over. I couldn't watch it anymore, and I knew I needed to put him out of his misery. I took him out of the water and held him in my hands as he lived his last few minutes. And it took all my willpower, everything I had, not to put him right back in the water.

This is the stupidest analogy in the world, but it's all I can think of this morning. That poor fish, struggling in my hands as I sobbed. And the awful, frightening feeling I had knowing that I wielded so much power. And that I also had the power not to do it. I could put him back in the water and wait for nature to take its course, or lightning to strike him, or anything that would take the decision out of my hands.

My baby is already dead, but this morning I have to take a pill that will make the baby come out of me. I have to do it. My power. The D&C was passive -- the doctors did all the work -- but this time, I have to make a conscious choice to begin the process. And I'm immobilized.

I don't want to do this.

I want to throw the fish back in the water, save the decision for another day.

But I can't.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:33 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Well, shit.
This baby died too.

Posted by: Sarah at 10:10 AM | Comments (41) | Add Comment
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1 I'm truly sorry to hear that Sarah.

Posted by: tim at June 12, 2008 10:21 AM (nno0f)

2 Oh, Sarah. I'm so sorry to hear this. My heart aches for you. I cannot imagine how you are feeling. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your husband.

Posted by: Sandi at June 12, 2008 10:35 AM (PzeGZ)

3 I was checking back hoping for happier news. I am so sorry to hear this. Wishing you strength as you deal with this and hope for your dreams of holding your child to come true without more loss.

Posted by: wifeunit at June 12, 2008 10:37 AM (J+xCo)

4 I'm so sorry. No words for it really- just achingly sorry.

Posted by: Crys at June 12, 2008 10:40 AM (dqGUK)

5 Oh, no. I'm so sorry, Sarah.

Posted by: JT at June 12, 2008 11:27 AM (SLnGk)

6 You are in my thoughts and prayers, Sarah. I'm so sorry to hear this.

Posted by: Vypergirl at June 12, 2008 11:33 AM (qe77L)

7 I am so sorry to hear this - you are in my thoughts and prayers.

Posted by: Toni at June 12, 2008 11:49 AM (OoGre)

8 Fuck. Is there anyone who can make the drive to the airport with you? Insert more profanities here.

Posted by: Sis B at June 12, 2008 11:53 AM (0ZS+T)

9 Don't worry, Sis B, my mom cancelled her ticket for tonight and is staying a few more days with me.

Posted by: Sarah at June 12, 2008 11:58 AM (TWet1)

10 Oh, no! I'm glad your mom decided to stay with you a few more days. I'm so sorry; I wish there were more I could say. *big hugs*

Posted by: Emily at June 12, 2008 12:08 PM (jAos7)

11 I'm so very sorry, Sarah.

Posted by: Anwyn at June 12, 2008 12:51 PM (dzxw9)

12 I am so sorry. Its heartbreaking.

Posted by: kati at June 12, 2008 01:15 PM (mrnzz)

13 I am so sorry Sarah.

Posted by: Reasa at June 12, 2008 01:17 PM (2W7Iu)

14 I'm so glad your mom is with you. And I am heartbroken for you. Will it do any good for me to tell you my sister in law lost three before one live birth? No, it won't. But I'm telling you, as long as you can get pregnant there is hope you will have a baby one day. My prayers and hopes are with you and your hubby, and thankful your mom is there.

Posted by: Ruth H at June 12, 2008 01:19 PM (BkiKe)

15 I am so sorry to hear the news. Glad to hear your mom is staying with you for a few days longer.

Posted by: Cindy at June 12, 2008 01:22 PM (aqF7w)

16 I am so sorry for your loss.

Posted by: Maria at June 12, 2008 01:30 PM (2rnKP)

17 I am so so sorry.

Posted by: MaryIndiana at June 12, 2008 01:43 PM (Sc9ll)

18 It's just not fair. I'm so sorry.

Posted by: Val at June 12, 2008 01:43 PM (6RyTP)

19 it sucks, it's not fair, you will make it through. did not make sense for me until it actually happened. thoughts are with you, sarah.

Posted by: kristie at June 12, 2008 02:21 PM (I4yBD)

20 I am so sorry for you and your husband. Thankfully, your mom is there with you and can bring you some comfort. I am so, so sorry.

Posted by: Susan at June 12, 2008 03:11 PM (edTDc)

21 I am very sorry and very sad. I am relieved to hear that your mother was able to stay a little longer to be with you during this time.

Posted by: CaliValleyGirl at June 12, 2008 03:36 PM (irIko)

22 Oh no...how rotten...

Posted by: Kiki at June 12, 2008 04:24 PM (OnpeF)

23 I am sorry too.

Posted by: dutchgirl at June 12, 2008 04:38 PM (vUJtL)

24 So sorry Sarah.

Posted by: Nicole at June 12, 2008 04:41 PM (sBJ2p)

25 I'm so sorry and my heart breaks for you.

Posted by: Susan at June 12, 2008 04:57 PM (bwlsC)

26 I'm so very very sorry. I was so hoping this would not happen.

Posted by: sharona at June 12, 2008 05:18 PM (BeRta)

27 So sorry. I've been there, too, during a deployment. Bless your mom for staying.

Posted by: Amanda at June 12, 2008 07:11 PM (IwSIO)

28 Sarah, when I read your news, I cried. I cried for you and for your babies. I cried for the fact that you will never get to hold those two babies. I cried because my heart remembered the horrible, ripping pain that came when reality set in and I realized that my babies were gone. I cried because you will now have yet another two days that come and go and are difficult in your life. I cried because I understand. When the anniversary of my first miscarriage came this April, I was heartbroken. The anniversary of the second is just this week, and it scares me. Even though I am pregnant and slowly, cautiously dealing with this one, I grieve over the two that I lost. I hate it when people say that there will be more babies...what about the two that you lost? I hate it when people tell you how they know so and so who had this many miscarriages and had a baby later, because that doesn't help you RIGHT NOW. You do not have a baby in your arms, you do not have any guarantee that it will ever happen for you. No, it doesn't make you feel better to hear all of those things from those "well-meaning" people. Please know that I am NOT one of those people. I am one of the people that understands where you are coming from. I have been there, and I know how it hurts, and how little things don't mean anything. I remember after my first loss, and I called a friend to tell her and all she did was cry on the phone with me, completely sobbed, for about ten minutes. Out of all of the words that I received, out of all of the so-called "advice" that was given to me, that phone call is the one that I remember, it is the one that stands out in my mind. She just cried with me. She felt my pain with me. I've never met you, but I'm crying with you. I'm feeling your pain with you. My heart is actually breaking with you.

Posted by: Stacy at June 12, 2008 07:46 PM (sH2lU)

29 I'm sorry. (The first words that come to mind were a bit more profane) Words of encouragement: My in-laws were married at 19 and 18. She gave birth to my wife at 29 and they were "trying" for all but 2 years (1 in Vietnam and 1 where they were taking precautions). After that he got snipped so my wife is an only child. Please don't give up hope. (Or force your husband to get snipped after only 1. )

Posted by: Brian at June 12, 2008 08:28 PM (TWI8c)

30 I am so very sorry to hear this. My thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family.

Posted by: Lee Anne at June 13, 2008 03:31 AM (SHkIe)

31 I'm so sorry. Prayers for peace and healing going up for you.

Posted by: MargeinMI at June 13, 2008 04:03 AM (1MXzx)

32 I'm so sorry. I'm glad you're mother is there. I'll be praying for you.

Posted by: Tibby at June 13, 2008 04:31 AM (S/Fac)

33 No words. I'm so very, very sorry Sarah.

Posted by: Stephanie at June 13, 2008 06:12 AM (kzbE/)

34 *Sigh* No words can possibly express how sorry I am for you.

Posted by: David M at June 13, 2008 06:13 AM (gIAM9)

35 Sarah - I am sorry. I wish there was something to say or do to take away your pain, but if its any comfort, I am thinking of you, your baby & your husband. keri

Posted by: Keri at June 13, 2008 06:15 AM (HXpRG)

36 Oh, Sarah. My heart aches for you.

Posted by: FbL at June 13, 2008 06:28 AM (HwqvF)

37 I had the same thing happen. And I haven't won the lottery, either! You know that I am thinking about you and crying for you, too. I'm so sorry.

Posted by: Allison at June 13, 2008 08:05 AM (OH0du)

38 Sarah, I am so terribly sorry for your loss. My sympathies to you and your husband. I think you are smart enough to already know what I am about to tell you....but I'll say it anyway. Take time to grieve this. A lot of very well-meaning people who love you will step up and try to distract you. I know that because if I were with you right now I would grab you and take you to lunch and out for manicures and pedicures and tell you ridiculous Princess Crabby stories until your sides hurt - trust me, I do enough asshatted things to fill a book. That's because when we see your pain we want to help. And that's good and your friends and family are wonderful. They are right that it's not good to wallow. But on the other hand, it's not good to ignore it. It hurts and like any other pain, it's not wise to ignore it. It will never be gone. Time will dull it. But it will never be gone. I lost my first pregnancy in February of 1980. My sons are wonderful, but they are not replacements. Their names are not his name. You can do this. Anyone who reads your blog knows what a strong intelligent woman you are. They also know that you are not alone. You have a wonderful husband and family and all of us - your imaginary friends out here in the blogosphere. We are here with you too. We are grieving with you, just as we will rejoice when the good times come. Love, Maggie

Posted by: Maggie at June 13, 2008 08:47 AM (OKqpv)

39 You are all in my thoughts and prayers.

Posted by: Vonn at June 13, 2008 06:33 PM (gNLi0)

40 I'm saddened for your loss. I'm not sure what else I can say that will make your pain recede.

Posted by: Patrick Chester at June 13, 2008 08:37 PM (MOvul)

41 damn. I'm so sorry. nothing any of us will say is going to help, but know that we are here and send you love and hope. LAW

Posted by: LAW at June 14, 2008 02:05 AM (A7iUf)

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Last night I dreamt I was learning to nurse. I sat on the sofa next to my husband, with a baby boy in my arms, and we watched David Spade's Showbiz Show on TV. Now that's the life! (Also, I told you my dreams were boring.)

My mom and I decided we weren't going to do anything this morning, just stay in our jammies until she has to go back to the airport. But nature had other plans for me. I have a little bit of bleeding this morning, and what with being sick and all, I thought it best to get checked out. So we're headed to the hospital again.

The nurse asked me all sorts of questions on the phone, including whether I'd had intercourse in the last 24 hours. "Not even in the last 24 days!" I joked.

Off to get checked out. I'm not too nervous, but then again, I wasn't nervous the last time I sat for three hours in the emergency room, and that one didn't turn out so great.

We'll see. I'll update you later, hopefully before I drive the 164 miles again this evening.

Posted by: Sarah at 04:14 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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As my mother and I drove to the airport tonight, we made a joke about an annoying thing my grandma used to do. My mom chuckled and then said, "You know, I wish I hadn't let little things like that bug me so much. I don't know, maybe that doesn't make sense." But it does make sense to me. My mom and I haven't always had the easiest time getting along. We have different personalities and lifestyles, and I have my dad's impatience. But in recent years we've learned to do OK together and get along on our trips.

I said goodbye to her at the security gate and then started to walk away. And by the time I got to the car, I was crying. My mom is getting older, and I get nervous sometimes that when we say goodbye, it could be the last time. Her health isn't the best, and our trips are infrequent.

My neighbor in Germany, her mother died while she was pregnant. That bothers me. I think about it often and worry, worry that my parents are old and might not have as much time as I'd like with their grandchildren. And we live 900 miles away from them.

It weighs on me at times. And I cried when I said goodbye.

I cried when I dropped my mother off at the airport but not when I dropped my husband off for deployment. How's that for a special kind of crazy?

**************

I drove 82 miles to drop her off and composed this blog post in my mind on the 82 miles back. And as I pulled into the driveway, I got a call on my phone that her flight has been cancelled due to weather and she can't leave until tomorrow night. I'm headed back out to the car for another 160 miles. Ick.

I mean, gosh, I didn't hate to say goodbye THAT much!

UPDATE:

Recommended reading: Val's post

Posted by: Sarah at 02:52 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Yesterday my mom, my friend, and I went on an outing and we stopped at a mom-and-pop restaurant that was a bit of a dive. I jokingly referred to it as a Choke and Puke, one of my favorite Smokey and the Bandit lines. We all three got the same thing, and the food was pretty good.

Yeah, we're all paying for it today. Choke and Puke, indeed.

I thought it was morning sickness at first, that karma had come around and hit me good for writing a blog post about how great I felt. But then my mom got sick. And a call to my friend revealed that she was no better off than we were.

Food-related sickness is no fun. And really no fun when you're pregnant and can't take anything for it.

I just hope it clears up by the time we have to drive to the airport tomorrow.

Posted by: Sarah at 10:56 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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