Damn girl, that's a lot of fattitude

The truth of the matter is, it all still feels like yesterday. I remember the music that was playing when I checked into my appointment. I remember where we both sat in the waiting room. I still remember exactly what I was wearing the day the ultrasound tech couldn’t find the heartbeat. It’s been 51 weeks and 1 day since my miscarriage. It’s been 42 weeks exactly since our doctor gave us the green light to try again. It’s been 5 weeks now that I’ve been on Clomid. But, most importantly, it’s been 1 week and 1 day since I started seeing a shrink that specializes in infertility and pregnancy loss. I am 100% not over my loss, and please don’t confuse that with me not being 100% over my loss. I don’t ever expect to be 100% over the death of my child, but I do want better coping mechanisms. I want to stop viewing my life in cycle days, fertile days, and the dreaded 2 week wait. I realize that I am still not emotionally healthy.

I did tons of research on all the shrinks my insurance plan would cover and their specialties. Unfortunately, there are only two infertility/pregnancy loss specialists in our area. One is a dude, and sure, equal rights and shit, but I have zero interest in talking with someone that can’t possibly experience what I’ve gone through. You can empathize all you want, but you will never fully understand pregnancy loss until you’ve experienced it. Get off the whole, does this mean a therapist should have to be raped before they can counsel a rape victim? soapbox because I just know what I needed. There is so much I never knew about myself, my belief system or even my own morals until my own pregnancy loss. Anyhow, the dude was out of the picture. I settled on a woman named Lisa and opened the session by just asking. I needed to know. “Have you had a miscarriage?” She’s had two. I instantly felt at ease. I felt like she could help me. I felt like she got it. I felt comfortable and safe. The hour flew by. At the end, she told me she wanted me to focus on things that nourished my soul until I saw her again. Things that made me feel fantastic and whole and just healthy.

So, I did. I spent forever in Trader Joe’s. I didn’t rush. I found new yummy things (Dark chocolate cookie butter cups – 2pp/1). I tried out a recipe I’d been working on and baked for work. (an orange pound cake with cream cheese frosting and a dark chocolate ganache with milk chocolate scroll work and orange peel roses). I spent time with my niece, Charley. Perfection. I played in my garden. I did a “Pinot’s Palette” thing with my best friend and we made our own paintings. And, since I love squash, I bought a kabocha squash and a delicta squash that I’ve never tried before. Also on the list, bubble baths and long walks. It’s all felt really good.

I think the most important thing we’ve done together is that on October 15, both Kevin and I lit a candle at exactly 7pm. He wrapped me in his big safe arms and even though I was crying, it was a different cry. I can process the science behind it all. Kevin and I never wanted a boy or a girl, we wanted healthy and this pregnancy wasn’t. My body did what it was suppose to do and it protected not only myself, but the baby that would not have survived. I usually cry when I talk about the miscarriage, but I can never put my finger on why exactly. I think I did this time. I’ve been crying for who my baby may have been. Something changes the second you see those two pink lines and know you’re pregnant. You instantly feel attached and have so much love for this little tiny pile of cells. You feel protective, worried, happy, excited, etc. You have dreams and aspirations. You want your child to do better than you, be better than you, fly higher than you.

I also cried from frustration. I’m a goal driven person. I like seeing results. I like focusing on something and making it happen. I’m detail oriented. I’m precise. I’m calculated. I’m organized. The fact that we have been trying for a 12 cycles with absolutely nothing is beyond frustrating for me. In addition, it stimulates fear. A sense of fear I’ve never experienced. People say, “well at least you know you can get pregnant!” all the damn time. Yes, you are right. I got pregnant once. On top of minimizing the loss of my child, let’s also be aware that I’ve never successfully completed a pregnancy. That is scary as shit. The fear that maybe I never will is there. Since I like to have so much control, the unknown is scary for me. When I spoke with my shrink, Lisa, I told her I want better coping mechanisms especially because if we do ever get pregnant again I will be an absolute nervous, paranoid wreck the whole time and I’d like to enjoy my pregnancy – not be scared out of my mind.

I should not have waited 50 weeks to see someone, but I did. I’m looking forward to the next few months as I work my way through counseling.

So, now I’ve been back on Weight Watchers for about a month, lost 6lbs, gotten more active, and I’m seeing someone to help my crazies.

Surely things will start to look up, right?