Trying

I have a follow-up appointment with the midwife a few weeks after the D&C. The appointment is supposed to be with the surgeon, but he is stuck at the hospital for something. I wait in the room for about twenty minutes before a midwife sticks her head in.

“I’ll be in with you in just a second,” she says. “I’m gonna fill in.”

She comes in a few minutes later and runs through a checklist of questions. Am I still bleeding? Any pain? No and no. She clears me for intercourse. I’ve already filled out the postpartum depression screening (did you know you can get postpartum depression after a miscarriage?) and I assume she’s already looked it over. Sad? yes. Depressed? No.

Grief Right Now

My womb is so empty.

I ended up still needing a D&C. For days after miscarrying, I continued to cramp and pass large golf ball sized clots. The baby was gone, yes, but there was a buildup of blood they said could lead to infection. So I went in for surgery last week and had my womb scraped clean.

I’ve never been in an operating room like that before and I admittedly got pretty scared. But then I woke up in another room, no memory of anything at all, just waking to the knowledge that all remnants of that pregnancy were in a trashcan somewhere. Before the procedure, I had to fill out a piece of paper where I designated what I wanted to be done with the “pregnancy tissue.” I knew I had already fished my baby out of the toilet, so it didn’t really apply to me, but it made me sad for all the others who have to fill out that same form.

What Should’ve Been You

I know something is wrong.

The midwife can’t find the heartbeat with the doppler. He moves it around and around, and I start to get nervous. He moves to use the small ultrasound machine next to where I am laying. I am 12 and a half weeks pregnant. I’ll hit the second trimester in a few days. He should be able to detect the heartbeat with the Doppler by now. He should. He reassures me that sometimes you can’t but the ultrasound will be quick. He squirts some jelly onto my stomach and moves the wand around.

Sick Day

Auden has a stomach bug today. It started last evening with vomit all over the bathroom floor, but after a good night’s sleep, I thought we were in the clear. Not so. More vomit this morning.

As I’m learning lately, little kids tend to get sick a lot. And with two little kids, sickness grinds all plans to a halt. Sick kids means all plans have to be canceled, that we can’t leave the house, and that I have to be very flexible with anything I’d hoped to get done.

Goose Egg

I’m usually overly-cautious in stores with my kids. The parking lot is the worst part, though. It starts when I get them out of the car seats when we arrive—I’m a nervous nelly about it all. I have to do one kid at a time, so while I’m getting the second kid unbuckled, inevitably the first kid has to stand by me and wait. I’m always so nervous that the first one will walk away towards a car while I’m distracted getting the second kid out of the car seat. We all hold hands as we make our way into the store and then I immediately get them buckled into the double seater cart. Getting back into the car when the shopping is over also makes me nervous, because again I can only buckle one kid at a time, so one child has to wait in the cart while I buckle the first. I’m paranoid about the cart rolling away or that another car won’t be paying attention when backing out. But if I get them both out of the cart at the same time, I’m worried one will wander towards a car while I buckle the first. See what I mean? Basically going into a store is a whole juggling act just to keep them safe. I probably overthink it way too much.

On one particular shopping trip, all I needed was some toilet paper. It was going to be a quick in and out, but I still had both boys with me.

“Can I walk in the store? Auden asked.