Monday, August 27, 2007

The Saddest Girl To Ever Hold A Martini


Today marks two years since the loss of my first angel. At this time, two years ago, we were told that our betas were not doubling and a miscarriage was imminent. Our ultrasound showed a sac that was two weeks behind where it should've been and no fetal pole could be seen. If I didn't miscarry on my own, they could give me a shot of methotrexate or do a D&C. Sure enough, my spotting turned to heavy, bright red blood. My baby was gone, just as quickly as he/she had come. My firstborn - who I never held. I never got to see their face or tell them how much I love them.


At the time, we were not actively TTC, although we were "not preventing" for most of our relationship. As a matter of fact, I had just started birth control pills the month before to regulate my cycles. I was going for 3 months without a period and since we had just become engaged, we wanted to make sure I was ovulating regularly before officially TTC. Imagine our surprise when we found out we were expecting. Pleasantly surprised - thrilled actually - but we were not planning on it happening so soon. At first, we wondered what everyone would think. We weren't yet married (although it was in the works) and we didn't want to have a shotgun wedding. I was finishing up my last semester in college. The timing wasn't great - but is it ever great? Things could always be better, right? After we had time to process our future, the fear melted away to thoughts of being parents. Giving birth to a baby. A piece of each of us, created through love. The other stuff just didn't seem important anymore. And we began to make plans - preparing for our little one. Those dreams were obviously short-lived.

Even though I only had a week to bond with my baby, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I shed so many tears that I couldn't even leave the house without being stared at as though I were a domestic abuse victim. Thoughts of my lost angel consumed me. I thought that maybe he/she was taken from me because they weren't planned. So many people told me that "it just wasn't my time" that I began to believe it. I felt guilty, as if we should have been more careful. Maybe we should have used condoms in addition to the birth control. Then this wouldn't have happened. I got the whole "something was probably wrong with the baby" speech. Again, I felt guilty. I felt that I somehow caused our baby to have a chromosomal defect by taking birth control. And then the kicker "well, you weren't that far along". As if that made one f--king bit of difference. It was like because it happened so early, it didn't count. I felt guilty for grieving over my loss at 3-5 weeks (who knows exactly when the baby stopped growing) when there are women out there losing babies in their second or third trimesters or beyond. Obviously, most of those comments came from fertiles.

Eventually, I came to accept my loss. It was a fluke, the doctor said. These things just happen sometimes and there are no explanations . I never expected it to happen again. Now, two years later, I am grieving over another loss.

And I still feel guilty.

We were actually trying for this baby. For 15 months to be exact. We were a good bit further along with this pregnancy so I had more time to bond. DH even had time to bond. We nicknamed the baby "Snowflake". Our betas were much better and we even got to see a heartbeat this time. And if all was well, we'd be finding out the gender this week.

I feel guilty that our first baby was a bit "jipped". DH wasn't as close to our first so he didn't grieve as I did. Yet he grieves tremendously over Snowflake. We didn't get the same support from family and friends that we did this time around. I didn't blog about my earliest loss. I almost feel as though I don't acknowledge him/her enough. As if my most recent loss affects me more or is more painful. This probably sounds ridiculous but I honestly feel that, in a way, our first angel has become secondary. We don't even have a nickname for him/her. And I feel like shit because of it. I don't want our angel to be looking down and thinking we are playing favorites. I wish I could hold him/her and show them how loved they are. How I wish things could be different and we could be together again.

I suppose comparing the two losses is like comparing apples to oranges. While they are two babies that I have lost, they each have their own special place in my heart. Neither spot is larger or deeper than the other. I miss my babies the same, even if I grieve differently for them. I wish I had them both here with me. I wish I had a 15 month old baby and another on the way. I wish I could press my first angel against me and smell their hair - you know that baby smell. I wish I could be chasing after them as they start becoming mobile. I wish I could live out the dreams I had two years ago. I still see things as they should've been - memories and visions that never truly existed except for in my heart.

Thankfully, Mel has opened up the virtual lushary. I've already had a blue angel but tonight, I'll take a chocolate martini. Since I've had too many sour punches in life, it is time for some sweetness. I believe I'll be the saddest girl to ever hold a martini.*


*I'll buy a round for anyone who can tell me what movie this came from - AND the actor/actress to say it.

18 comments:

Baby Blues said...

Penelope Cruz said that to describe Cameron Diaz in Vanilla Sky. (Sorry I Googled.) Oh Kristen, I'm holding up my Martini with you. 'To life... because it's just frickin unfair.'

Anonymous said...

"One chocolate martini, please, barman," so I can drink with you. I am so sorry about your losses, for snowflake and for your first precious baby.

JJ said...

Ill take a martini too! I am toasting your incredible strength today, and so sorry you have to relive the loss...

Samantha said...

I'm sorry. For me, one loss blends into another, so grieving for one person's death becomes a grief-fest for every loss before it. Perhaps now, in missing Snowflake, it is making you think of your earlier baby and bring back the fresh grief. I wish there was a keep out the guilt.

Caro said...

Raising a margarita to you and sending a virtual hug.

Searching said...

I'm so sorry for all the hurtful/unhelpful comments you got with your first angel. A baby is a baby, YOUR baby, no matter how long or short of a time you had to bond with him/her. It still hurts and it's never fair. I'm so very sorry about both of your losses. You'll be in my prayers today.

deanna said...

Just wanted to stop by and let you know you're in my thoughts.

Here's to strong women.

hope548 said...

I'm so sorry for your losses. I know they'll always be with you and in your heart. I'll drink to your peace!

Gemini Girl said...

Sending you a virtual hug as well. It never helps to hear that everything happens for a reason. We all know it, but it does not make it any better. Your happy day will come!

Unknown said...

K - Here's to you and the hope that sometime soon you and DH do get to enjoy the sweetness over the sour . . . you so deserve it.

I'll be thinking of you today . .

Christy said...

I'm so sad for you on this very sad day. You do express yourself so beautifully. Hugs to you.

Anonymous said...

Hi Kristen:

I am so sorry to hear about your first and second loss. I know it is devastating. I too experienced two miscarriages in a row with my first and second pregnancies. So many of the things that you say in your post are things I thought and felt. All of it is normal. I hope you take care of yourself and your DH takes care of himself during this time. Let your family and friends help you now. The one thing I found that truly helped me was the passing of time. The pain became more manageable. And having already experienced the first miscarriage I had mentally prepared myself for the possibility of it happening again. Not that you can ever really be prepared for something like this. Your friend in Illinois.
Amy

Carrie said...

For what it's worth, I feel guilty too, for differentiating between losses. Why do I feel so much more towards one that another? It's hard to go through all this and then feel guilt too.

I'm sorry it is so tough for you right now, I wish I could offer more than words xx

Mirabel's Parents said...

i'm so sorry, kristen...i did not know today was, well, today, when i messaged you earlier. HUGE HUGS.

Anonymous said...

Kristen, I'm so sorry yo are feeling this way. Please don't beat yourself up over this too much. All of these feelings are so normal and incredibly natural (at least, they'd better be, or I'm in real trouble).

Hang on. Drinks and friends are coming!

Mrs. Piggy said...

Yay, now I have a new blog to follow...love your writings...your losses sound similiar to mine...nothing like seeing a heartbeat and then getting "comfortable" (as an IVF person can get) then losing the baby...so frustrating and heartbreaking...looking forward to following your journey

Grad3 said...

I just wanted to say I know. Not to sounds korny but- After I lost my best friend two years ago, and a lot of grief therpay later, I really believe that love transends space. You made up half of your Angel and half of Snowflake- that means they feel your continued love too. They know how much you wanted to meet them and how much you still think about them.

Cheers, to the saddest girl to ever to hold a martini. May your strength continue to inspire us ~Hugs~

Jen said...

You don't think you have a name for your first baby? Seems like Angel to me. :)