So I don’t think I mentioned here on my original home blog that I was nominated as a BlogHer Voice of the Year for a post on my other blog. But I was, and it was a huge honor to me, and I can’t believe so many people read my words and were touched by them. Because BlogHer is practically down the street from me this year (okay, a couple of hours away, but you get the idea), I thought I would go and meet some fellow BlogHers. In the process of all of that, some of you might have noticed that WordPress front paged me. And then they asked me to speak on a panel at their booth.
What it all boils down to is this: I’m going to BlogHer. I’m hanging with WordPress, and if you’re going to be there, I’d love to meet you too. I’ll be talking at the WordPress booth on Saturday at 3:30 in the “Talking Shop with BlogHer Voices of the Year.” Their schedule is here: BlogHer 2014 Announcements. And if you’re interested in seeing the post that was nominated from the other blog, it’s here.
I had my HCG tested last week–I guess nearly two weeks ago now, and it was at 10. I spotted for nearly a week, and I have finally started my first post-miscarriage period, so I’m guessing my levels finally finished falling last week. It’s awful, but it also means I’m recovering, and I’m another month closer to trying again. It’s a strange place to be. On one hand, I’m glad to be moving along; on the other, having a period at all is just a reminder that I’m not pregnant and won’t be for awhile. There is no making this easy.
Mostly I am staying busy right now. It’s the end of a school semester, so I have stacks of grading and students in crisis to soothe. As tasks begin to wind down, though, I’m finding the grief creeping in more and more–pain for both my lack of pregnancy and, naturally, for my boy. I know the summer and the moments of free time are initially going to be hard, that a lot more pain that I’ve been pushing away is going to come crashing down on me, but I also know that having the time to care for myself is going to mean greater chances of pregnancy sooner. I have to cling to that and to the idea that time for self care will ultimately save me.
I wanted to introduce you to a cool little website that has come across my radar: FemmeJac.com. They specialize in clever lesbian clothes and other gear, including some really lovely family art (ceramic photo frames, etc.). I told them I would send some of my readers their way after they so generously offered to send us one of their frames in memory of our BG, so check these ladies out! :)
Some of you have been checking on me, wondering how things are going, so I thought I would share a quick update, which is to say that not much is going on. I’m no longer bleeding; in fact, a few days ago I felt like I might be headed toward ovulation. I’ll have my blood tested tomorrow to see where my HCG levels are. We’re hoping for under 5. I never thought I would hope to see low HCG numbers, honestly, but that seems to be my experience with life. I never imagined a lot of things. I’ve been staying incredibly busy with teaching and my other work, which is helpful at times until I have a few minutes to breathe, and then I fall apart. I’m just hoping time will slip by quickly. That’s all I can hope for right now.
I’m also working on doing all I can to keep the ole body healthy and happy. My primary care physician recommended maybe trying an anti-inflammatory diet just to really clean things out and promote a fertile environment. I’m inclined to listen to her; she’s usually right. She also recommended an interesting supplement for my anxiety/grief, which I hadn’t heard of before. It turns out (unbeknownst to her) that it is also showing to be helpful with ovulation and improved egg quality in some small studies. Those are some promising side effects, and it’s easy enough to take a supplement a few times a day. I’ll be going back to acupuncture again this week as well. It helped last time; I have no doubt it will help again.
And we wait. And wait. And wait.
In the meantime, life keeps passing by. J and I celebrated our sixteenth anniversary this week. I contributed to the festive nature of the day by catching a cold. We did precious little but go out to dinner. We cried a bit. We laughed a bit. We marveled at how long we’ve been together, how old we’re getting, how lonely it is without a child, how lucky we are to have one another through it all. We have been taking turns falling apart about this miscarriage, taking turns holding one another up. It’s no small feat because both of us have so little left to give right now. Still she manages to console me through the worst of it, and I try my best to be there for her during the worst of it. It’s something we’ve both grown rather skilled at, but we’re both tired of nursing one another through grief.
Today we both did our best to avoid the world of children in their Easter finery searching for eggs, smiling with delight over too much chocolate. I worked all day. J worked on some art. I somehow landed in social networking land a couple of times to find photos and videos galore that bowled me over with the reminder that the whole damn world seems to be swimming in beautiful kids, and my wife and I have none. We celebrated exactly two Easters with BG. He dyed eggs once. It was wonderful. But I won’t lie; it’s painful beyond belief to see other families doing the same. And I hate this holiday. It’s my least favorite. And still it hurts because having a child even made this holiday fun. Oh I miss it.
So that’s how I am. It’s a fairly miserable time here. I’m doing my best to find my way back, to avoid succumbing completely to grief and hopelessness. I’m hanging onto hope that I will get pregnant again soon and will be headed back toward having a child in my arms. I’m trying. It’s hard, but I’m trying.
Hi everyone. Long ago I promised some password-free posts, and because events had turned a certain way, I kept things private for awhile. You see, back in February, right around BG’s one-year anniversary (actually, probably the day of), I got pregnant. And I was pregnant for two whole months after with varying degrees of anxiety until last week at an ultrasound at ten weeks gestation, I learned that what we thought would be our baby, an embryo we had named Goblin for its Halloween due date, had stopped growing and had no heartbeat. Over the past week, I have miscarried the pregnancy. It has been just as awful as one might expect.
I’m sharing this because already I have found that writing about it is therapeutic, just as writing about BG’s loss has been helpful, and if it can be helpful to anyone else out there who has lost a pregnancy, well, I don’t want to hide it. I’m opening up one (maybe more) of the posts from the past few days. There will undoubtedly be more.
Anyway, that’s where we are. We’ll try again. We won’t stop until we’ve got a baby, but J and I are positively gutted.