Thursday, December 18, 2008

A Big Misconception

I got an email from Joe Biden today. Well, me and millions of other people. I was sitting at my desk (Yes, you read that right: my desk. Somehow, for the past two days, I have hauled my sadsack self to the office. I don't know if the effort has been worth it, to be honest. I'm exhausted.) when I noticed the flashing red light of my BlackBerry signaling a new message to my webmail account. Since Monday, whenever that happens it feels like a beam from my own personal lighthouse. A lifeline, a message of comfort from a friend who knows what's going on. Something to hold onto. Something to help me breathe. But when I opened the message, it turned out to be from the VP-elect. The subject? "A Big Misconception."

Indeed.

This week has been like one of those disturbing, vivid dreams where people, places and events that shouldn't go together are suddenly intertwined, nothing makes sense and you can't wait to wake up. Except I can't. I feel doomed to spend the rest of my days in this time and place, mourning something too early to be a real baby but too late to be just another failed cycle. I am a zombie, a shell, a shadow that walks and talks and eats and types but doesn't really register feeling unless I'm crying or talking about my miscarriage.

And yet, it still hasn't really happened. One of the things you do not know until you go through this (because, really, they're not going to describe this to you when they tell you you're pregnant -- although, with miscarriage rates what they are, I'm thinking they'd be better off doing just that) is that the options you have when they discover that your fetus is not developing ("fetal demise" is what the report on the table in front of my doctor on Monday so delicately called it -- one of the many things I am sorry I saw that day) absolutely, horrifically suck. You can either stop your progesterone and wait for it to happen naturally, take a pill that essentially puts you into a violent form of labor to expel the pregnancy or have surgery in which they suck it out of you. Oh yeah, awesome choices. Just the kind of thing I wanted to be weighing this holiday season. Mistletoe, chestnuts roasting on an open fire and how to terminate a non-viable pregnancy.

The problem, I am learning, with conception is that it can end in misconception. And that feels so much heavier to bear, so much harder to ever get over, than no conception at all.

8 comments:

kirke said...

Oh Egg - I'm sorry that you are going through this. All of those choices seem hard.

I don't want to close with anything trite, so let me just state, I'm thinking of you.

Michelle said...

Sending you lots of ((HUGS))

Amanda said...

Thanks for the comment... I actually wasn't going to go for the u/s today, but your message helped to push me that way. I'm quite certain the outcome will be the same but you've given me a little hope to cling to for a little longer. Thanks.

Those choices are horrible, this stuff just gets harder. :(

Lots and lots of (HUGS)

bunny said...

thanks for your comment. MC is awful and it feels even more so when everyone else is filled with holiday cheer. my doctor took me off meds and is letting nature run its course. while i prefer this to surgery, i feel like i am just doing more waiting...

i'm thinking of you and hoping you can find some calm in this storm.

eggdance said...

I hate that you are in this place, choosing between something you don't want to do and something you don't want to do more. I wish, like everyone else, that I had something to write that would take this all away, that would fast forward you to a better time and place, but unfortunately, the only way out of this is through it. But you will make it through.

MrsJoyner said...

I completely agree. The choices are all terrible. Where is the choice wherein I take home a live baby? I feel like I will forever be scared that a postive test does not a live baby make. I feel your pain, I really do and I am thinking about you as you were thinking about me (thank you).

barrenisthenewblack said...

I just found you through your comment on my blog for ICLW. I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm wishing you peace and the space to breathe. I wish I had something magical that would make it all better. Thinking of you.

birdsandsquirrels said...

I'm so sorry this week has been so hard. I'm thinking of you now and in the coming days and weeks. For me, there was numbness for the first week, then a frightening anger.