Wednesday, February 4, 2009

The Subject I don't write about...

I melted down last night, like a two year old. I yelled about things that weren't worthy of words, I threw a few things, I stomped my feet. I was cranky and cross. I was tired. I wanted somebody to rub my back and brush my hair and I didn't want to have to ask.

I'm tired, I said to Greg, I'm tired. I'm tired of all of this. I'm so tired of trying to make a baby and it doesn't work. And the only thing all the testing has told us is that it isn't you, which means it is me. So it means I am broken. It means I'm broken and I know I can't be fixed so I'm sick of it, I'm sick of it and I'm tired of it and I want to quit.

You know what I think the problem is?
I ranted at him. I think my eggs are dead, I think they're gone, all done, used up, finished. They're no good. I'm hitting early menopause or something, maybe because I hit puberty so early. And you know what? There isn't anything you can do about that. If the eggs are no good, then you can't make a baby.

It's not possible, I said to him, it's just not possible to try to make a baby out of an egg that's no good. It's like trying to bring a dead person back to life. It's just not possible.

I stopped, then, my words echoing in my own ears. Perhaps I just had to hear them, to reconcile this fact in my head, the true source of my desperation to see another living child walk this earth. to bring a dead person back to life....

Is this it? My crazy obsession with having another baby? Is it just that, that I am constantly trying to make up for what I've lost?

If it is, all the better that I quit while I'm ahead.


Hope's Mama said...

I can understand your frustration Carol, you are owed another one. But where does it end? I wonder this myself. If I have 8 more babies, i'm always going to be one down. Our families will never be complete. It is awful. I'm not giving up hope for you yet. Not by a long shot.

Shannon said...

I'm so sorry Carol. I wish I could give you a big hug.

Cara said...

Carol you know how sad I am for you. This adding insult to injury routine should just plain NOT apply to anyone who has suffered a loss. That would, in some small measure anyway, equal the playing field.

Lara said...

I am sad with you tonight - because loss reminds us of loss and I imagine not being able to get pregnant simply and easily right now feels like a loss. I too am not ready to give up-and I doubt all your eggs are rotten.

Much love and thanks for you wonderful blog.

Kim Bryants Aunt

Gal aka SuperMommy said...

I just wanted you to know I'm listening, Carol.

charmedgirl said...

you know, my failures with trying to concieve have felt very much like more deaths to me, except i've never said it because it sounded silly, ringing away in my own head. now, with the failed ivf, seeing the picture of the two little bubbling circles they put in...i feel like i'm grieving again. i've felt, over the past few days, like i'm grieving paige again. and i probably am. and so, probably, are you. infertility after a dead baby is the ultimate hell.

Aimee said...

You know, Carol, it is like you told me...I've spent the past two years grieving, desperately grieving, the loss of three little girls close in age. I'll never have that. When we first started talking about this baby being born and probably being a boy, I asked if I would resent him at all for NOT being a girl. And even if he is a girl, resenting her for being so different in age and, specifically, for NOT being Sophie. You have shown me how I will love this baby (should he ever decide to be born!). You have made me trust that my heart will wrap itself around him for the miracle that he will be. Then, you said, my melt-downs will come not when I see three girls close in age, but when I see three girls close in age WITH THEIR BABY BROTHER. Because no matter what, my third baby is gone. No matter how many more babies I have or you have, one is always missing. Period.

That said, I don't think your eggs are dead. And I also know how it feels when the people you comfort at their time of need throw back at you the same words of comfort in your time of need. Doesn't always help, does it?? When I get scared, my husband always says things to me that he hears me say to the people in our group. I hate that!

Anyway, I hope Greg gave you a big hug, made you some tea and tucked you into a warm bed with a good book. Then perhaps he did some laundry and cleaned the whole house so when you got up this morning it all seemed new and wonderful...with the smell of fresh baked bread to boot!

Hang in there! And remind Liam that wild turkeys are like 30-50 pounds and he'll need a bigger trap. My own girls built a snow fort to catch an Arctic hare. They'll know they got him when they see just the black of his ears sticking out. (when they go out into the woods, they see rabbit tracks everywhere, so they assume that is the kind of rabbit we have here in Maine. Perhaps they are right! It is -8 today!)

rebeccaeee said...

You will be grieving for Charlotte all of your life. Maybe this is a manifestation of that. I know very few mothers who decide to stop having children with ease and acceptance. I think that we do NOT go gently into that good night, thankyouverymuch, because having children is such an awesome power and gift. That said, I'm 37, we're trying for #2 and I suspect my eggs are dead dead dead as well. Time will tell. Take it easy on yourself.

kris said...

Hmmm...I thought I replied to this last night. Just know I'm sending love your way, Carol. Fingers and toes are crossed that you find what you are looking for...

mama said...

Oh dear Carol....

I'm so sorry you are feeling such intense frustration with your body. I know that this has been trying on you, that you have want so badly to have another baby....I am not willing to give up hope, nor give up on your body or your eggs. I feel that you are maybe holding onto this too tightly. Maybe, maybe if you let your guard down a little...? I only say this because I know 2 people who were in a similar rut trying to get preggers and were so FOCUSED that maybe their bodies were holding them up. When they let down their guard....shortly after became pregnant.

What about seeing a hypnotherapist? It helped me so much towards the end of my pregnancy and during labor...maybe it can help to get into those deep places of your mind and body?

I love you with all my heart Carol. Please don't lose hope. You are so healthy and beautiful.


mamastreasures said...

This is the first time I'm finding your blog...and I'm glad that I did.

My 2nd pg ended in a stillbirth (@21 weeks gestation...just over the definition). Nathaniel, too, was perfectly formed, though not to term.

I despaired long and grieved hard. I cherish the hours that we got to hold him, touch him, drink in his feel, his smell, his features. And then, like you, we had to let them take him away...never to be seen again, except in our photos and our hearts.

13 months later we were delighted (and trepidatious) to welcome our next child into our lives. We were thrilled. And yet, I was the mama to 2 sons but in my heart I knew there were 3. I missed him deeply the more I got to know my living sons...the more I grieved.

The longing in my heart to 'make right' what couldn't possibly be ever made right, was always there.

I despaired of never feeling whole again, as well.

I wanted another baby, too. I knew that it would never replace my love or longing for my lost one. But I knew that there was more for me.

Thankfully, just when I was convinced that I was entering early menopause, I became pg in March of 2006. My beautiful daughter was born at home in December of that year and is now my beautiful 2 year old baby diva.

June will mark the 7th anniversary of the loss of Nathaniel. And while I always love him and always count him as one of my dear children...the pain isn't as intense as it once was.

Peace to you.

Dalene said...

Ugh, this is so very unfair. I think that the universe should spare us further heartache, given what we have's only fair.