Thank You

There are simply too many of you to name. Thank you for your comments, your support, and your love. So many of you have written about me on your blogs -- its humbling to think that you find me worthy of even mentioning on your most personal spaces. I thank you for directing support my way -- without it, I don't know where I'd be right now.

Mo has been wonderful. We've talked, really talked, without judgement for the first time in a really long time. We're communicating much better throughout this, our second loss. Having my parents here has helped tremendously -- they both took off work on Wednesday and came to the hospital with me and Mo. They stayed with us the whole day, just hanging out at the house while I slept. It made me rest easier knowing that Mo wasn't alone.

We're finding that the second loss is very different from the first. It's both easier in some ways, and harder in others. It seems multi-layered in a way that the first one wasn't. My first miscarriage was like a sucker-punch in the gut -- just shattering. I think this one is less of a shock...and yet it brings with it so many more questions. One miscarriage can often be written off as a fluke -- but two in a row? I'm not so sure. After initially balking at having the tissue from the D&C tested, my new OB (whom I'll call Dr. Compassionate, because he really was, considering he met me for the first time Tuesday) finally agreed at Mo's insistence. I'm grateful for that, because I desperately want answers, even though I know that any answer will not really be an answer at all.

I am physically in a lot less pain this time around. After miscarrying naturally, contractions and all, the first time around, I knew immediately that I couldn't wait for weeks to do that again. Especially seeing as how the baby had already been gone for two weeks, with no signs of impending miscarriage, it would be likely that my body would still need a D&C eventually. I just couldn't imagine continuing to walk around pregnant, and yet not, sick and in pain and waiting for this to end. And yet a part of me still feels guilty for this decision. Mo kept asking me, what if the ultrasound was wrong? What if their machine just wasn't working right? I saw the pictures -- they looked exactly the same as our last u/s photos. I KNOW the diagnosis wasn't faulty. And yet, and yet.

I know from experience that, in time, I will feel better. I will eventually channel my anger into something healthy -- my house, my classroom, my plans for the future. I will get to a place where I am ready to try again. But right now, I'm just sad. I miss my babies, whom I never got to hold, but whom I loved already. My faith in any sort of master plan, or even of the existence of God, is shaky at best. But there is a part of my soul that hopes, and prays, that my children know how much I love them, now and forever. They will always be a part of me.

As will all of you. Thank you for holding me up, for being there, good times and bad. I love you all.