Four years later

We are coming up on the fourth anniversary of my first due date. It blows my mind to think of it. It'll be on Mother's Day this year, which is also three days before our 12th wedding anniversary.

Four years ago, May 8 loomed very large in my mind. After the miscarriage in October 2000, we'd planted a dogwood tree that would bloom in the spring, and surrounded it with tulip bulbs. I almost went off the deep end when the tulips got eaten (by rabbits? deer?) before they bloomed that spring. Some of them did recover, and the tree and the flowers were very pretty. Of course, we sold that house two years ago, so it hasn't exactly turned into a lasting memorial. I took the picture above on the first anniversary, in 2002.

So now I'm getting ready to start my first injectible cycle with IUI next month, yet in the back of my head I'm still boggling that if I'd had that first baby, I would have a four-year-old now. I really just feel like I'm so far behind, when I look at it like that. Four years ago, I never could have believed that we'd still be unsuccessful now.

But on the other hand, I know that I've come a very long way. Maybe this is just sad, but I'm actually glad that I am able to deal with miscarriages better now. That's not to say I don't cry and rage, but I don't end up completely devastated, sitting and staring into space for the next six months, which is what happened with the first one. I know it's partly because I hold myself back from the pregnancies in those early days now, I don't let myself get very involved, I don't figure out the due date or remember it when the doctor tries to tell me, and all that stuff. Of course, the one time when it was impossible to stick to my plan was when I saw the heartbeat on the ultrasound last July, but even that one I was able to live through without losing sight of everything else. Actually, I recorded a CD with my chorus on the weekend between finding out that the pregnancy was over and having my D&C on Monday, and I've never regretted it for an instant (but I knew I'd regret not being a part of the recording after all our months of work -- and I also knew from experience that activity was better than sitting around for two days thinking of nothing but the upcoming D&C).

Of course, I couldn't have done that if anyone there had actually known that I was pregnant. For me, now, it's easier when the people around me don't know anything, when my in-laws don't know, when I just tell my mother and a couple of close friends and leave it at that. My husband and I do best when we can just comfort each other, I guess. I know everyone is different, so I'm not saying that what's right for me is right for anyone else. But I am very grateful that I found some way to deal with this, even if it makes some people feel shut out that I don't share this stuff with them (when they find out later, because you know, somehow they always find out later). They can just get over it. Maybe they shouldn't have said that stupid shit to me after the first and second miscarriages, you know?

Anyway, here's an entry from my old blog (which was private), from the due date. I doubt I can say it any better today than I did then.

May 8, 2001

Today's the day. In a way it's hard to believe it's finally here. When I found out last September that I was pregnant, the due date seemed so far away. And ever since the miscarriage, it's been hard not to keep counting down until this day. Today is the day it really seems final.

I've been feeling kind of numb since I woke up this morning. I'm not sure what I expected to feel. After all the highs and lows of the last nine months, surely I've covered it all by now. Everything I might feel, I must have felt. Except for maybe peace.

A couple of people have said to me that I'm keeping this alive in my own head, doing things that make it harder for myself to get over it. I don't think they understand what I feel like I've lost. And I can't even seem to explain it in a way that makes sense.

My therapist is maybe the one who gets it best. Not only did she have a few miscarriages of her own, but I guess she knew how to ask me the right questions. She thought it was quite remarkable that, only nine weeks pregnant, I was walking around feeling like there was someone else tagging along everywhere I went. It suddenly felt like there was an "us" instead of just a "me." Even mundane tasks were fun because there was someone to share them with. I loved it. I can't imagine that feeling is so unusual, really, but Janet seemed to think it was, or at least unusual for that early on in a pregnancy.

And once we knew the due date, I had imagined so much about what it would be like. I knew I'd be going out on maternity leave on April 24 (two weeks before the due date). I had wondered what would happen when the baby came. Would my contractions start in the middle of the night or during the day? Would Marty be home or at work? What would it be like to go to the hospital? How long would labor last?

Today I've been having flashes all day of what it would have been like if things had gone the way I expected. I might have been at the hospital today. Maybe we would have been in the delivery room. I wonder if I would have been scared?

But it didn't just end there. I was happy about my May due date because I would be at home all summer with the baby. I wanted us to go outside in the sunshine and spend time together.

After losing all of that, I'm not surprised it's been hard for me to let it go. But I really don't feel like anything I've done has made me feel worse. I was going to feel bad no matter what happened after the miscarriage, so it has been important for me to recognize how I'm feeling and just allow it.

That doesn't necessarily mean that I have to wear my pain for everyone to see (and comment on). I made this weblog private because I felt like it probably seemed too self-pitying and pathetic to anyone not in the same situation as me. Making it private was the only way I could still feel comfortable writing in it.

I'm getting through the day. And I know I'm going to be all right. No matter what. Even if this whole thing happens again, I will handle it. I will live, and I will handle it.

I was right about a few things there. The right audience for my weblog was people in the same situation as me. I'm glad I finally found you all.

And I was right about the other thing, too. Even though it has happened again, several times, I am handling it. And to still be hopeful about trying something new in the next cycle after all of this? Is an accomplishment in itself, and a testament to my resilience.