Yesterday, I thought I was doing ok. I still think I'm doing ok, in that I know it's completely normal to be up and down, but I'm not doing ok in that I can cope with everything - or anything, in fact. I sent out a couple of notes to people this morning. I had to tell a client that I wasn't going to be able to make a dinner with him this evening. That made me cry. I decided to tell my evaluator what was going on so that I had some cover for tomorrow. That made me cry. I just watched the Buffy episode where Oz comes back to Sunnydale having discovered how to stop himself becoming a werewolf, and discovering that Willow is with Tara makes him lose that ability so he leaves again. That made me cry. I got a note from a colleague saying how sorry she was, that made me cry.
I'm panicking about going to work tomorrow. I don't know how to get myself back into work mode. I'm supposed to be in a workshop all day Friday and the person who is organising it is doing a crappy job and I don't know how to intervene. H thinks I should take more time off but I don't really see how it's going to help. I can't stay off work forever. I've somehow got to find the wherewithal to cope with a normal life again. I managed to go to work after that first bad ultrasound, and yes, I cried at some points during the day but I coped with all the relevant meetings. So I know I can get through work even when bad things are happening. But I don't want to. I just want to sit at home and watch Buffy and be alone. Or with H, preferably.
I've realised something about telling people about this. No one can ever say the right thing. There is no way that anyone else can ever express adequately how awful this is, so the poor things are all doomed to failure. That note from my colleague that I mentioned above made me cry because it was so inadequate. But that's not her fault. It's impossible for anyone else to help. That's what I think I've been looking for - the knowledge that someone else really understands, I want to hear the right thing from people, to know that they appreciate what I am going through. But actually it's only some of you that can do that, those who have been through this and know what worked for you and what didn't. And even then, because we are all different, sometimes we don't get it right for each other, either.
Having said that, my brothers and one SIL have both done really well this week. I sent them three links on Sunday night and asked them to read them. One was Tertia's "How to be good friends to an infertile" classic. One was the empty arms video, and one was a leaflet from the miscarriage association for friends and family of those having a miscarriage. Both my brothers and one SIL have written back having read them with their thoughts and thanking me for sending them through. The SIL who wrote back's mother died of cancer a few weeks before my brother and SIL were due to get married 7 years ago, so my SIL wrote about that loss and how what we are going through takes her back to some of that. She also wrote to apologise about the photo incident. I wrote back and told her not to worry, and to thank her. It was a good correspondance, I'm very glad I sent the links. They are all trying really hard.
I'm off to eat some breakfast, 3 hours after I woke up, in desparate attempt to hope that it's low blood sugar that is causing these crying jags this morning. We'll see.
As you say, it IS hard, even for those of us who know infertility first hand. With my miscarriage, I felt abyssmal - and was surprised to feel so low. There really isn't anything anyone can say that will make it hurt less, except that you are not alone. Thinking of you.
Posted by: elle | Thursday, 15 June 2006 at 20:50
Thalia,
Words just don't fill this gap. I remember with my miscarriage the feeling of abandonment was so strong that taking the next breath was painful. Even with all the support of my DH, other infertile women, friends, my mother most of all, I felt sooo alone. Time is the only thing that heals this, and even healing is not the right word because it is the most painful of memories. I am truely sorry you have had to experience this.
Posted by: TraceyF | Thursday, 15 June 2006 at 22:23
Thalia, I've been where you are and I still am there in a way- there aren't any magic right words but I wish there was.... My heart aches for you, but day by day it will change, I won't say it will get better but it will become part of you....
Sorry I'm not making any sense or saying the right words, just know I'm thinking of you both...
Posted by: Meri-ann | Thursday, 15 June 2006 at 23:49
Dear Thalia,
No, words are not enough - they are not close to enough. Sadly, so many of us have been where you are that we understand - I understand - and send my love and support to you from an otherwise faceless name off the Internet.
It does get better - eventually. The pain never really leaves but it becomes more manageable and you stop feeling like you're about to be hit by a tidal wave.
You are in my thoughts, Thalia. Peace to you and please care for yourself well and with compassion.
Posted by: Kinneret | Friday, 16 June 2006 at 22:46
What can anyone say? I guess in all the darkness & pain, there has been a little light of hope when your dr told you implantation is a significant hurdle & you overcame that one so when you're ready, perhaps trying wont feel so awful. Ive had 3 miscarriages & am in the process of losing a very early fourth pregnancy & the one message i try & hold onto from other couples who have gone down this road before me is 'perseverance'. Each of these couples have said to me that many times they were despairing & thought they couldnt continue & decided to keep going & eventually they got there, there were ofcourse huge costs (emotional & other)& enormous difficulties but THEY DID GET THERE.....that has been my comfort i hold to when im desparing. Im not sure if it will comfort you in any way but i hope it can & in the meantime, take care of you.
Posted by: Womb in waiting | Saturday, 17 June 2006 at 11:03
I'm late in commenting- I hope that if you didn't end up taking the rest of the week off, it wasn't too terrible. I've been thinking of you frequently, even if I haven't been very good about keeping up with your posts.
Posted by: Kris | Saturday, 17 June 2006 at 15:29
Thalia, I'm late to catch up as well . . . I am just so very sorry for your immeasurable loss and the pain that it brings.
You and H are in my thoughts.
Posted by: beagle | Saturday, 17 June 2006 at 16:40
Thalia,
I'm so late on commenting on this, but I just wanted to say that I recently began reading your blog and I really identify with so much you have written. Since I'm late on the scene though, so to speak, I am playing "catch up" on all that has happened to you.
What a rough road you have been on. I wanted to comment on this most recent post days ago, but unfortunately I've been having a lot of fertility-related drama in my life this past week -- so much so that I'm barely functioning!
I did want to say that I am thinking of you, and very sorry for your loss -- and that I understand. I hope you that you have gotten as much rest as you can these past few days, and perhaps took more time off work.
I know I found my miscarriage completely emotionally and physically draining. Physically, it took me about two full months to recover from the miscarriage. And, well, the emotional aspect.....that is still not doing so well. But I'm trying to get through it all, and I will...eventually.
Anyway, there is really nothing I can say to ease the pain you are experiencing right now, that I know. But I will keep you in my thoughts and look forward to hearing an update from you when you are up to it.
Take care,
Vanilla
Posted by: VanillaDreams | Tuesday, 20 June 2006 at 07:53
I swear, you could be writing my posts for me. Your experience sounds so much like mine. The last week has been dreadful with the pain. Like you, I opted for the D&C, just wanting it to be physically over. Too bad my body has other ideas. A week & a half after the procedure, I'm wondering when I will feel normal again.
I am still suprised at the things people say with a loss, how they think that it could possibly be helpful. Instead of focusing on the exact words, I just try to appreciate the effort and the place it was coming from. Sometimes, I'm more successful than others.
Going back to work...I'm dreading it tomorrow after nearly two weeks away.
Thinking of you, and wishing you peace.
Posted by: Nikole | Sunday, 25 June 2006 at 19:09