Sunday, September 13, 2009

Oh, here's the grief

The grief train has hit me like a ton of bricks today. I sat on the couch this morning sobbing hysterically. My dog, instead of being comforting, started barking at me. Awesome. My husband and I sat there together and held each other while we cried for our baby. That's how it's been off and on all day today.

We've been trying to figure out how to memorialize this pregnancy. I've purchased myself a pendant I found out etsy to remember a lost pregnancy and a super long chain so I can wear it close to my heart. I think I'm going to make a collage or something to keep in a private place with the few mementos that we have - the embryo picture prior to transfer and the picture from our 6 1/2 week ultrasound. I'm not sure what my husband is going to do.

I feel like I'm living in a horror show. Everything is such bullshit, and I don't care about anything. I so want to have a baby and I'm so afraid that I won't, but I need the hope right now. I was just at my parents for dinner, and my dad went on for 15 minutes about adoption. That almost killed me right now. I still see my baby, like I last saw him on the ultrasound on Friday morning.

I can't make any decisions right now. I can barely function today. I was proud of myself for showering. I'm taking off Monday and Tuesday for sure. Tomorrow I'm going to spend with my mom, and I'm hoping that's not a mistake.

I'm sure this is a very rambling post.


  1. I'm so sorry, Amy. You are right to give yourself some time before making any decisions. You need this time to grieve. Thinking of you.

  2. You're right - it's just so completely unfair. I'm glad you are taking some much needed to time for yourself. Hang in there.

  3. Thank you for your comment on my blog. I'm so sorry for your loss, Amy. It was traumatic enough for me to lose my baby this week and have a D&C two days later. I can't imagine having the physical trauma of the bleeding and then a D&C with no mental preparation. Like you, everything looked perfect for my bean right up until the end (9w4d).

    I don't know why it's so hard for some of us. It's heartbreakingly unfair. All I suppose we can do is put one foot in front of the other, wherever that winds up leading us. I will be following your journey and cheering you on from the sidelines.

  4. Sending you a big hug! Wishing that you did not have to feel this pain. I am so sorry that your dad caused you more pain (hugs)

  5. Don't make major decisions right now. Give yourself time to be numb and get used to it. I don't think I got anything useful done in the first few weeks after my miscarriage. It got so bad that I picked up book one of a completely escapist series and read all through seventeen. They weren't that good, but they got me through the day. At work I kept finding organization projects because I could not do anything that required thinking.

    Give yourself lots of hugs. And I hope the dog comes around. What does he think the purpose of a big, snuggly dog is for?

  6. Amy I am so sorry . . . like Noodlegirl I too suffered a miscarriage this summer (8w3d). I think your idea for a collage is awesome - in fact I'm now thinking of making my own. Give yourself time and take everything one breath at a time. Right now, that's all you'll be able to do. I'll keep you in my prayers.

  7. I am so sorry for your loss. I had a miscarriage last month about as far along as you and the pain was so acute. My heart just ached for you when I opened your blog this morning. Stay strong and take gentle care of yourself.

  8. the grief also struck me worse the day after.
    I'm so sorry. you are right in taking time for yourself. tell your mom and dad what you need from them. tell them that you don't need any suggestions or solutions. you just need a loving and safe place to grieve. you just need someone to care.
    I told that to my mom and it worked. she's been helpful, instead of her usual trying to suggest stuff self.