Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep...
It's like some sort of nasty chant that runs through my brain. In that halfway place where you turn over to get more comfortable, it becomes louder until it finally wakes me. And sometimes there are variations...with other words thrown in to make me feel like throwing up.
Last night's dreams were about doctors.
I was in this medical building with twisty and turny hallways, filled with automated people movers that went up and down in the little kind of hills that make your stomach drop down to your toes. Of course, I was the only one there, but I was still completely and totally lost. I couldn't figure out which direction to go until Steve mysteriously appeared and showed me the right office door. (Gee, there are no feelings wrapped up in that message, huh?)
Of course, once inside, I had to talk to this woman and give her my complete medical history...every painful detail...right down to the color of the wallpaper in the delivery room Alex never saw.
Then that nurse/doctor disappeared and I saw who I thought was the head honcho, only to have to repeat everything I had already told the first gal.
He was soon replaced by four women, one who resembled Ivette from Big Brother 6 on CBS, and one who looked like the receptionist (that I thought was my friend but now can't seem to stop talking about me). They laughed and laughed and laughed...and I couldn't get them to listen to what I was saying. They were telling me that all my babies would be born dead and I was a joke to even think I could be a mommy to more than one.
Then tonight's fun and excitement...a spelling test...with words like chorioamnionitis and bacteremia and fetus (which according to Jill, I'm spelling wrong anyway). But it wasn't just once...I had to spell them over and over again. I woke up almost saying them out loud.
And now I can't sleep again.
This upcoming doctor's appointment is going to kill me. I've never had real health issues in my life. Everytime I've ever had to deal with anything medical, it's always been, "Right then, we'll fix you up and you'll be on your way." I've never had to face a reality that could mean changing the entire rest of my life. I've never had a real problem getting pregnant. I got pregnant on the fourth cycle with Alex. My problem is just having a healthy baby, apparently. So even though I've never had fertility issues, I'm now sitting in pretty much the same place as women who do experience fertility issues...the prospect of a future with no baby.
I know I should be greatful for what I have. Sam is a beautiful, smart, amazing, perfect little boy. OK...so that's a bit over the top, but it's my blog and I can indulge my fantasies if I want. And Alex can always be perfect, even if felled by some nasty bacteria from my body. But there was supposed to be more. Oh crap, there I go with supposed to again.
And then tonight Steve and I were chatting in our lawn chairs as we watched Sam play with the big stick he found (oy, that kid is going to give me gray hair). I asked him if there was a part of him that doesn't even really want to try again. There was complete silence. I said, "Well, the silence is deafening." He said, "No, there really isn't. I know what this means to me. Another loss would be hard..." Right then is when I stopped listening. Another loss would be hard?!?! After almost three months, he still doesn't get it. It wasn't a loss...it was my Baby Alex. I know I should accept that men don't really bond as much until after birth...but give me a break. Like I'm a gumball machine...put in a quarter and a baby pops out. And you can just keep trying until you get the grape one you have your eye on. Another loss would destroy me. I would never come back, in any way, shape, or form that resembles a normal human being.
You know, my grandmother is mentally unstable. And I don't say that in the loving way you often refer to people who are goofy. No...she is tea-with-Jesus ill. And I wonder if there wasn't something major in her past that made her lose her grasp on reality. Was there something like this that just broker her spirit so badly that she could never recover? I know she suffered her share of heartache and hard times as a young adult...but was there one thing that caused her to suddenly lose control?
It's funny how this blog started with tongue in cheek...Everything is Under Control. That's just not funny at all now.
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6 comments:
I'm just sorry that you have been hit with the prospect of infertility as well as everything else:( It's not the king hit that Alex's death was, but it certainly has the the power to erode your sanity and your faith in yourself as a functioning human being - as a functioning woman.
I hope your future isn't devoid of more babies and that any potential problems will be repairable. But I understand your fear of what would become of you in the event of another baby's death. If only there was a way to get to a reasonable answer but I fear it will be down to gut instinct and sheer bloody minded courage and determination on your part.
Sometimes I feel as though I understand, and then I read one of your posts and realize that I have *no idea* of the pain you've been through. I'm sorry...
((((((Cathy))))))) I have you in my thoughts as you get closer and closer to your dr appoointment.
I KNOW you are greatful for what you have. But I also understand that Sam is never going to be enough. It doesn't change how much you love him and adore him, but it's just doesn't make everything ok. There is nothing wrong with that.
I truely hope there is another baby in your future. But the thought of there being no more is very very scary.
"chorioamnionitis". Guess what? That word came to haunt me too. I got my medical records, and read them over and over. And in the pathology report for Caleb's placenta, there was that word staring me right in the face. It was NOT the cause of death, and in fact, there was never a sign of it AT ALL. Even on the pathology report there was a comment about it not being significant etc. but at the same time, there was that word. I wish we never knew that word existed.
And what is it with boys and their sticks?????
I'm so sorry Kate. As always, you are in my thoughts and prayers.
Love you!
Your feelings of brokenness resonate really strongly with me, and I do find it amazing how there are people all around me who must have gone through awful things too and yet you can't see it on the outside. You walk around looking completely normal, but you feel so deformed on the inside. It's very strange, and never something I would have imagined.
Forgive me if I'm missing something...if I didn't read previous posts carefully enough...but do the doctors think this bacteria might jeopardize future pregnancies? I guess I'm asking if your fear of infertility is just that...a fear...or more of a reality? I wanted to tell you that although I got pregnant with Charlie after only our second cycle trying, I had immense fears that I would not get pregnant again...so much so that I was reading numerous books about adoption. I don't think this is a really uncommon fear, although I suppose it seems strange on the surface.
I just wanted to let you know that I'll be thinking about you tomorrow.
Huge Hugs.
And BTW, Angie loves sticks too, so it isn't a boy thing. I'm not sure what the fascination is (except that sticks are multi-purpose) but it definitely isn't a gender thing. :o)
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