Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Dead Baby Thoughts - real and ugly

In the darkness of the middle of the night I wonder how I will break their hearts...again. Will they still love me? Will they even see me anymore? or will there only be broken bits left to see?

You see, I don't dream of cute little baby clothes or warm baby snuggles or toothless baby grins. I have nightmares about what clothes to bury another baby in...cold kisses on dead cheeks...and toothless mouths that only hang silently open.

That is, I dream about those things...
...when I'm not convinced that the baby has already died and I will have to face an invasive (and painful) medical procedure to right the wrongs done by my own body.
...when I'm not already planning how to tell everyone. My husband. My boys. My mother and father. The people I work with. The people I volunteer with. The people here who have been so kind and supportive. I just don't know that I have it in me to "tell everyone" again.

I have felt too good for the last four days. In fact, when I saw the baby on the office ultrasound last Wednesday, I somehow felt like something was wrong. Saying hello felt like saying goodbye (I'm sure it doesn't take a genius to figure out how emotional an ultrasound can be after it's been used on you to diagnose both healthy and dead babies).

So yeah...feeling good has caused me a complete mental and emotional break. How unfair is that? It's all just mushed up in my brain into a big pile of crap that ALL feels wrong.

I ordered a doppler that I'm completely convinced I will not need. Can I return it for a refund if it is unopened?

I can't go to the doctor because the last time I went to see a doctor because something felt "not right"...well...we named him Travis...and I am now, quite obviously, a coward who is completely and totally afraid to face that. Because it wouldn't be that old familiar pain that I know I can deal with. It would be fresh new pain. And, quite frankly, I'm not sure I'm equipped to handle any more.

So I google "12 week miscarriage" and try to find some peace. It is what it is, right? At least I won't have to bury this one.

And I can't NOT go to the doctor because I sit and think and analyze. Not tired. No nausea. No more belly bloat. Don't have to pee six times a night. A few remaining symptoms can certainly be explained by the fact that my stupid body obviously doesn't recognize that the baby is dead and hasn't stopped producing all those hormones (that, ironically, were supposed to help keep the baby alive). I have to know.

Maybe tomorrow.

Here's hoping the nightmares hold off tonight...even though I'm not really expecting them to.


Michele said...

Oh Sweetie... How I can understand nightmares. Even now, with two beautiful healthy babies, I dont dream of colleges and weddings... I dream of finding cold babies in cribs, of babies choking on formula, of a bigger urn for more ashes, even of how to tell a surviving baby that their twin has died... Some nights, I wake up in a cold sweat, although recently, I've been holding the nightmares at bay by not sleeping until I am utterly exhausted and have no mind for dreaming.

Sending you warm thoughts and hoping the doppler and an u/s give you peace of mind that all is well... All is well... All is well... We can repeat it together and find the faith to believe.

serenity said...

I'm a long time lurker, but I had to stop and give you a virtual hug. Hang in there. Take it a moment at a time. It's all you can do.


LawMommy said...

I am sending good thoughts your way.

kate said...

Go tomorrow, or go tonight if you have to. Thinking of you & sending love.

Beruriah said...

Yeah, just go Catherine. Thinking of you, and crossing the fingers.

Choofy Mama said...

thinking of you <3

Julia said...

I get it. It's terrifying. And yet you have to know. It's a giant mindfuck, and I am wishing with all my heart that this is all it turns out to be.

Kathy McC said...

Giant mindfuck is right.

I remember these feelings when I was pregnant with Kameron. I went to the doctor in hysterics one day because I was absolutely convinced it was over...

And it's all because our gut told us this before and it was right before. But your gut *can* be wrong, too.

I can't tell you anything you don't already know. Just wanted to offer my support. Big (((hugs))). This is one of those times where sitting on the porch together in Niagara would be so great. Miss you!

marcia said...

C, I have no words...just, please, know that I care deeply, and will be anxiously watching for updates.

Shanna said...

Hugs to you. I hope the nightmares held off and you got a decent sleep and are in a brighter frame of mind today. Know you can call if you need to talk.

Pipsylou said...

just now catching up; been in my own little world.

i could have written that post.