And now we wait *language*

If our baby was still alive, it would be 9wks 3 days.

The really fucked up part is that its still inside of me and after one D&C and three unsuccessful rounds of Misoprostol all we can do is wait.

Today I went to my RE for an ultrasound, that I didn’t watch. I squeezed my eyes shut for the scan that seemed to last a lifetime. I knew I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t see our baby on the screen. I asked the tech to just scan and not tell me anything and I asked my RE to distract me, so we talked about the house.

After the scan the tech and my RE left to let me dress and my RE came back to report that the gestational sac has started to pull away from my uterus and that blood has started clotting in the space where it was attached. I could miscarry tomorrow or next week, but because we want to try again they don’t recommend doing another D&C for fear of damaging my uterus.

So I literally have to wait.

Fucked up is the only way I can describe what I’m feeling. Tired and depressed and anxious and sad and unglued all work, but fucked up is the only thing I keep thinking. It’s so unnerving to be in this state of limbo. It’s unnerving to remember (because my body still thinks it’s pregnant) that I’m not. It’s unnerving to roll over at night and my breasts still hurt. I still have nausea when I eat certain things and my pants are still snug around my waist.

It’s also still incredibly lonely and isolating and I’ve found that much like when my sister passed away, some people cannot handle this kind of unfinished grief. I say unfinished because while our baby’s heart stopped being sometime last week, the fact that I still haven’t miscarried means that it’s not “finished.” There’s no closure. There’s only the impending fear that one day I’ll be awakened by cramps and that I’ll have to see my body bleed. Things I was hoping to avoid with the D&C and things that are inevitable.

And all the while I have my job on my back wondering when I will return. I have friends who have all of a sudden disappeared and I have a Facebook feed brimming with pregnancy announcements and new babies and I can’t help but feel resentment and anger towards those women and families and can’t help but wail while showering.

My grief is all-encompassing, over-powering, all-consuming, raw and unfinished. It’s the only thing I think of and the only thing I wish I could get rid of.


Still Nothing

Tomorrow makes one week since we found out Bean’s heart has stopped beating. And despite two rounds of misoprostil (sp) I still haven’t miscarried.

Tomorrow I take a third dose.

Today I had some light spotting and light cramping and that’s it.

I’m honestly not sure how much more I’m going to be able to withstand.

Waiting to Miscarry

The last 24 hours has been a bit nuts.

Leah and I got into a HUGE fight because I posted about the miscarriage on FB. Mainly because I’m feeling alone and wanted to find friends who’ve been through this to talk to. Also, because I don’t think that losing a child should be a secret. When people die that’s not a secret-so why this.

We processed a lot and today is a much better day.

Except that the medicine to help me miscarry hasn’t worked yet. I took the two doses of Cytotec, had some minor cramping and light (like first day of your period light) bleeding but no tissue passing and insignificant bleeding.

My RE perscribed another dose which we’ll take in a few hours.

For those of you who’ve been through this-did it take you this long to miscarry? What can I expect?

Our Bean and an Update

Two days ago we went in for a growth scan and though Bean measured on target for 8wks + 6days they found no beating heart.

Today we’re going in for a D&C.

There’s not much else to say, except that I am heart-broken.


So I went in for the D&C, came out of surgery and the doctor told me, “In 35 years of practice, I’ve never had an unsuccessful D&C. The fetus was too far up your uterus and we couldn’t get it out.”

So now we’re experiencing what I’d hoped to avoid. I actually have to miscarry our Bean and will most likely need continued monitoring to make sure my body expels everything. I’m still high on surgery drugs and took my first round of drugs to start the processes, plus vicodin for the pain. Feeling numb.

B’sha’ah Tovah not Mazel Tov

Ah Jews and our superstitions.

I wrote this when I first starting blogging, but thought I’d share it again. As more people are finding out about Bean (thanks, Mom) I’m getting more Mazel tovs! From Jews and non-Jews alike and I gotta say, it freaks me out!

Got a new job? Mazel tov!

Quit the job you hated? Mazel tov!

Got a promotion? Mazel tov!

Became bat mitzvah? Mazel tov!

Just got engaged? Mazel tov!

Just got married? Mazel tov!

You’re pregnant? Not Mazel tov.

The website My Jewish Learning says that it’s considered bad luck to wish a pregnant woman mazel tov because “something might happen to the baby.” I’ve not heard that it was bad luck or superstitious, rather that being pregnant is sort of transitional period of waiting (which it is) and only at the birth is a mazel tov warranted. says, “Pregnancy is a potential that is yet to be fulfilled.” It goes on to say:

Conceiving a child is like conceiving an idea. A new idea is very exciting, but until it has been brought into the concrete world and actualized, it is too early to celebrate. So too with pregnancy.

Becoming pregnant is an awesome and wonderful event. The miracle of conception is the most natural supernatural occurrence, the most normal paranormal experience in the universe. But as exciting as becoming pregnant is, nothing has really happened. Pregnancy is a potential that is yet to be fulfilled, a prelude to something yet to arrive, a step towards a new life that is yet to come, a spark of an idea that is yet to be implemented. We would not throw a party for someone who had a good idea but has not yet followed it through. So we don’t celebrate a pregnancy as we would other happy occasions, and we do not wish Mazal Tov to a pregnant woman. Mazal Tov is only appropriate when referring to something that has already occurred, while pregnancy is the expectation of something yet to come.

A bit gloomy, no?

I thought so, too, initially. But, I get it. And I get that mazel tov, in so many ways, is a part of American vernacular, especially on the East Coast or for folks who have Jewish friends that it’s just what you say.

And B’sha’ah Tovah is sort of hard to say, especially if you’re not a Hebrew speaker.

B’sha’ah Tovah (spelled a half-dozen other ways) is a Hebrew phrase that essentially wishes that a woman delivers her baby at a “favorable hour/time” literally, “in a good hour.” It’s a phrase that, according to The Jewish Pregnancy Book, “has an astrological connotation to it, meaning, “May the baby be born safely in a good hour when the planets are aligned in a fortuitous way.”

So does it really matter? I suppose not. But if you’ve announced a pregnancy and you got a B’sha’ah tovah from me, now you know why 🙂

B’sha’ah Tovah, to all of you. Shabbat Shalom. Love and Peace.

7wks & Cesarean Talks

Yesterday was a pretty big day for us. We closed on our house at 8AM and at 10 AM we got to see our little bean for the first time.

I’m still processing the scan.

After handing over lots of money and signing away our lives for the next 30 years we went for breakfast at a little Italian coffee shop that serves yummy breakfast. I felt fine eating it, but as soon as we left the restaurant I started dry heaving. We got in the car and I sipped on water, but opened the door to puke out of a moving vehicle for about a half mile. Yay morning sickness!

We got to the office and I felt fine.

We got into the exam room and I felt fine, and excited.

My RE came in with another an ultrasound tech, anticipating that Bean would be hard to see because of the fibroids, which turned out to be correct. One minute of uncomfortable pressure later the tech left to get the stomach ultrasound device and after sliding it around my stomach for a while-BEAN!

Bean at 6w6dSmaller and fuzzier than I was expecting to see, but there was Bean, in its little sac measuring right on target. I should have been excited, but then they took the device off of Bean and started measuring my fibroids (largest is 90mm/cm) and talking quietly to each other. I looked over at Leah and she squeezed my hand. We’d seen Bean, we saw Bean’s little heart flickering. It’s all good.

Finally my RE congratulated me and left to get us pictures and for me to get dressed.

I was excited, but I didn’t cry as I expected to. Somehow I knew something was up.

About 5 minutes later she came back in and the first words out of her mouth were, “You’re going to need a C-section to deliver this baby.”

I was crushed. She continued talking to us about a lot of ultrasounds and growth restriction and postpartum hemorrhage.

In fact, I’m crying now as I write. (Yay, hormones!)

As a birth worker, I am aware of certain phrases that are triggers for Mamas. “At least you have a healthy baby!” to a woman who had a c-section, planned or unplanned is one of them. Obviously, we all want healthy babies, and it doesn’t take away from the disappointment that many women feel when faced with a c-section. This was a conversation I was dreading after 40 hours of labor in a hospital, not at 7 weeks pregnant.

So now we’re researching fibroids and vaginal birth, questioning OBs, trying to find one that would be willing to work with us, and trying to figure out what it all means.

I’m incredibly happy Bean is alive, has a beating heart, and is making Imma SUPER sick (all good signs of a healthy pregnancy, they say). I’m also incredibly thrown that I haven’t even thought about my birth vision yet, and already it’s gone off track.

As for symptoms, I’ve got ’em all. I’m barfing at least 3 times a day, dry heaving more and nauseous all of the time. I’m EXHAUSTED and even when I sleep 12+ hours like last night when I fell asleep on the couch watching the NBA Playoffs, I still feel like I can sleep away the rest of the day. My boobs are HUGE (they were a 36DDD before I started this journey) and SORE. Like, don’t even look at them sore. The cramps have gone away, but still stabbing sensations when I wake up in the morning or change positions while sleeping.

Hormones-I’m crying at almost anything sweet or adorable. Wells Fargo commercials, to reality TV stars crying, I’m crying along with them.

We’ve told both of our parents, people we work with (I had too running out of meetings, etc. to barf), and two of our Mama friends, but we’re keeping it under wraps to the rest of the world until the second trimester.