After/during and during/after a miscarriage (since it's not really over yet), I have had so many weird thoughts and become so guarded because of them. I was guarded before, but now, it's a mix of Planning, Fear, and Resentment. Planning for what? It's NOT ME not to be sure. FEAR OF EVERYTHING. Don't ask me when my birthday is. Ever. I will roll my eyes into my head and hiss.
RESENTMENT - at myself, my Body. And also, that I didn't plan better in my late 20s and 30s.
I should've been preparing myself for Mr. Right, but I was still trying to find myself. I realize that isn't the scenario everyone should follow or CAN follow, but my Russian Roulette of a mind says that's my shit. I had a part I'm sure.
At present, I'm pretty much for sure done or fucked in a way. I've thought about this - like this is the stuff that wakes me up early in the morning. I'm 46. (tears now... ... ...). I'm being selfish wanting to continue to pursue this. This is the most haunting thought that I have. The one that makes me burst into tears and hate myself. How fucked am I, really? I think of why, all the time, do I want a child.
I want to see the joy of myself on another's face.
I want to see the joy of my husband's face on another's face.
I want to feel the spiritual connection of myself to another human being that I have never known.
I want to shape and encourage the life of someone who doesn't know their way.
I want to feel more joy as an individual.
I want to know what it feels like to be a parent.
I think of why I shouldn't be a parent too, and it hurts. There are many good reasons.
What happens if I die? If my child is without a parent at 14, 16, even 21?
At that age, although I was an only child with a single parent (my mom), I was WILD, didn't know shit, and WITHOUT HER as my anchor, without a solid family network it would have been worse. I barely made it out as it is.
It's only with prayer that I made it. (I know this to be true, but my logical mind feels embarrassed about admitting that prayer saved my life countless times. I have no doubt. It's why I made it out of Hollywood, went to USC, married a doctor, and live in a resort community.). I literally crawled out of Hollywood, frequenting places like Boys & Girls Club late night, Barney's Beanery from where I almost disappeared. All over Hollywood the same scenario. I shouldn't be alive. I shouldn't be here.
Prayer and the PEOPLE who prayed got me through the worst times ALL of my immature life to where I am now. Now, I want it all. Am I asking too much? I have never deserved anything.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
I can almost move on
Today, I started to miscarry. I would normally go silent for a bunch of months, crawl back into my hole, but I need to remember this to appreciate the happiness I plan to feel one day - when my body is right and my mind is free from grief.
Work was a complete blast. We're interviewing First Year Associates and I've been doing everything from my own work of writing assignments and insane litigation management to making airline and hotel reservations for college kids, guiding them through the firm to meet attorneys all day - all with a smile - while large clots run out of me, changing my pad every 40 minutes, and sharp cramps shoot from my anus and uterus while I hold my breath. The shit we have to suck up to blend in while trying to get pregnant, to conceal all that goes right or wrong, is hideous.
I finally got a break to call my doc and picked up my prescription after work. He prescribed Norco 5/325. I took two and NOTHING - didn't even take the edge off the sharp pain, so I took one more two hours later and four Ibuprofrin. I finally feel better.
In spite of all this, I still had one of the happiest days of my life during my brief term of pregnancy - 10 weeks, when you calculate the 6-day frozen embryo transfer and the two weeks automatically added in early pregnancy. The elation of knowing I was carrying my own child was the closest I've ever felt to God. I'm not ready to give up yet.
This weekend I'll start seeing a therapist to discuss donated eggs. I don't know if I can take this path, and in fact wake up in the middle of the night terrified about the idea, but I'm more open now. I can't keep going through this.
Work was a complete blast. We're interviewing First Year Associates and I've been doing everything from my own work of writing assignments and insane litigation management to making airline and hotel reservations for college kids, guiding them through the firm to meet attorneys all day - all with a smile - while large clots run out of me, changing my pad every 40 minutes, and sharp cramps shoot from my anus and uterus while I hold my breath. The shit we have to suck up to blend in while trying to get pregnant, to conceal all that goes right or wrong, is hideous.
I finally got a break to call my doc and picked up my prescription after work. He prescribed Norco 5/325. I took two and NOTHING - didn't even take the edge off the sharp pain, so I took one more two hours later and four Ibuprofrin. I finally feel better.
In spite of all this, I still had one of the happiest days of my life during my brief term of pregnancy - 10 weeks, when you calculate the 6-day frozen embryo transfer and the two weeks automatically added in early pregnancy. The elation of knowing I was carrying my own child was the closest I've ever felt to God. I'm not ready to give up yet.
This weekend I'll start seeing a therapist to discuss donated eggs. I don't know if I can take this path, and in fact wake up in the middle of the night terrified about the idea, but I'm more open now. I can't keep going through this.
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