#the ultrasound tech said i would not need to have a transvaginal one because she could see everything on the imaging from the outside

[memorymessage]

my chronically ill afab people with an ED, here is another reason to be thin: you will never need to have a transvaginal ultrasound

:)

you're welcome for that info

[whentherewerebicycles]

i don’t know why I took a photo of this I just felt like it captured something of how I felt yesterday. but right before the surgery they wheeled me to radiology for my fourth transvaginal ultrasound in 36 hours and I just did not want to be there not at all I just wanted to get it over with and I didn’t see why they needed any more pictures of my insides. the tech was this eastern european woman with a thick accent and a very flat, blunt affect and I just felt very shriveled up and tired inside and I could tell that this was not going to be a very warm experience. except I was wrong, I guess. I think she could tell I was crying silently under my mask and she started talking to me, asking who my donor was and what I’d liked about him and what he seemed like from the profile, and if he reminded me of anyone I knew, and telling me that she’d thought about doing that too, getting a donor or asking a friend, and one of her best friends had done it and gotten pregnant with twins. and then she was taking the images and I asked if the other techs were right, if there really was something in the tube instead of in my uterus, and she said yes, they were right, and she would show me at the end but only if i wanted to see. and i said i did, and when she was finished she turned the screen to me and she said look, here. you can see the yolk sac here, and you can see the little baby inside. do you see the heart beating? it's strong. and she said i could look at the screen for as long as i wanted, and i did, i watched the little pulse of the heartbeat on the screen, a little flicker of light in the dark dark dark of the surrounding image, and i cried until my mask was soaked through. and when i was done she told me i could get dressed now but not to get back into the wheelchair yet because she was going to get something for me. then she went out into the hallway and was gone for what seemed like a very long time while i stood in the middle of the room in my hospital gown and my socks and just sobbed, and then she came back with two blankets that she had just gotten out of the dryer so they were still warm. she wrapped me up in them, one around my waist and one around my shoulders, and then she wheeled me all the way back to the room even though the aide who brought me there was just down the hall.

and i was crying silently the whole time because there's something freeing about a mask, you know, where nobody has to see the awful contorted shapes your face is making, they just glance at you and then glance away because they don't know what's wrong with you, what brought you here, but it's something bad if you're so upset. we took what felt like a long circuitous route back and i just kept thinking about how many ways there are to be kind to a person in a terrible little moment in their lives. i was thinking about how no else called it the little baby, just the ectopic and the adnexal mass and cardiac activity. and i felt so guilty for wanting it to be called the little baby when i know for so many people it isn't, not that early, and i felt guilty for feeling like she had showed me something sacred, that little pulse of the heart, the little flicker of light, because politics has poisoned the well so completely it has left me bereft of the language to talk about potentiality, about the possibility of being, about the tiniest flicker of a soul. and i was glad, i am glad, to live in a place where i didn't have to be on the verge of death to get access to a medically necessary surgery, in a place where people can make choices about their own lives and bodies and futures. but also i wanted not to feel guilty about wanting a language to say what i saw and what i felt. the little baby. i want a language that honors the choices of others but makes space too for the transformative force of my longing, a longing that transmutes cardiac activity into the littlest flicker of a life, a pulse on a screen, a little not-yet being with an inner life i'll never get to know. i want a language for that too. when i went under i stared up at the lights in the OR and i thought about nothing, i thought about nonbeing, i thought about wanting to sink down down down down down down down so i could stop thinking and praying and crying. and i didn't dream but when i came up through the haze after it was over i felt alone and very cold, but i had this picture behind my eyelids as vivid as a movie, a vision of walking through the woods behind my house at dusk when the light falls at a sideways slant through the silent pine trees. and i was all alone and it was cold and clear and so quiet there, and the light was so beautiful. and i kept saying aloud to the nurse, or trying to say: i'm in the woods. don't worry, i'm there in the woods. i'm still in the woods, i think, just a little bit. and when i'm ready i think that's where i'll go, at dusk when the light slants in through the tall tall trees, to bury the thin strip of that first pregnancy test and the piece of hospital bracelet i cut off my wrist last night and the name of the little baby, my little baby, which i wrote down today on a tiny slip of paper and folded up small and will never speak aloud to anyone. maybe i don't get a language for it, or maybe that's what i asked for, prayed for, wept for: the feeling, after, of the woods so clear and quiet, of a wordless serenity. i'm in the woods. i'm in the woods. i'm there in the woods, and the light through the trees is so beautiful i find it hard to breathe.

[cooking-with-endo]

My Experience: A Brief Introduction

My endometriosis journey has become more difficult over the last year. I have had increasingly painful periods for many years. I did not think much of it, as I figured that as we get older our periods might not be as light and easy as they were when we first get them. I got mine for the first time when I was a wee 11 years old. I fondly remember bleeding all over the seat in my 6th grade history class one day... 

I had tried various different birth control methods, not being able to stick with any one. I have no idea if one of them helped with endo. I’ve done the pill off and on several times, Nexplanon for about a year, and I had a hormonal IUD. I’d had sciatic nerve pain, lower back pain, shooting pains in my ovaries if I exercised too long, terrible period cramps, and digestive issues, but I never put any of these things together until a few months ago.

One Thursday this past October, I was sitting at my favorite coffee shop studying for the LSAT when an absolutely horrific pain came over me on my left side. It was like nerve pain, muscle soreness, period cramp-y, just all around awful. I got so irritable because of it and all I wanted to do was take a hot bath but I had to get ready to get to work. I was working as a case manager at a homeless shelter at the time and I worked 1:30pm-10pm five days a week. The whole night at work was terrible. No amount of ibuprofen could fix what was going on. I had had pain in those areas before but not at all like this. Later that night I couldn’t even turn over in bed without being in agony. 

The next day my partner convinced me to call out of work. I really could not move. I decided to spend the day on the couch and just rest and do some research. I had my friend bring me some powerful edibles so I could just sleep through the day and hopefully get to work the next day. 

My research led me to believe I had an ovarian cyst. Now it was Saturday and the pain was getting worse. I went to urgent care where they did a transvaginal ultrasound - only to have inconclusive results. My ultrasound tech was an angel though and we bonded over vagina pains. They thought my IUD might have migrated and been brushing up against the inside of my uterus. That sounded plausible. So I went home and booked an appointment for Monday morning at Planned Parenthood to have my IUD removed. I did not take my time with decision making, I just wanted a quick fix for my pain.

The pain never went away. I had a follow up appointment at my PCP’s office, but not with my PCP. It was a male doctor I’d never met. He actually was the one who suggested this could be endometriosis. I was like, oh I guess that would make sense? I was also shocked to be taken seriously about something like this by a male doctor, so yay! I did more research and ultimately agreed with him. My PCP agreed with him too. 

Thus my exploratory journey of what-the-fuck-to-do-about-this officially began. The pain has only worsened with time since the IUD was removed, so it has become apparent to me several months later that the IUD was definitely not the issue, and it probably was not an issue at all. 

I saw a shitty nurse midwife in January who basically brushed off everything I said to her. She took me off my combined oral contraceptive, put me back on the progestin only pill, and referred me to pelvic floor physical therapy. I opted to try it, but also decided to never go back to see her again. 

I started doing pelvic floor physical therapy in February which was sort of helpful and I really loved my physical therapist. Then COVID-19 happened... so that was put on pause. We both agreed that it wasn’t a great long-term solution for me anyway. 

Also in February, I started noticing my birth control was causing awful mood swings. I have bipolar disorder II so I am familiar with mood imbalances, but this felt different. I was angry all day every day, and while working at a homeless shelter this is not really a good thing to have happen. I stopped taking it around Valentine’s Day and had the WORST period one could imagine, but my mood improved which was really all I wanted. I needed to prioritize getting through my work day and not wanting to scream at my clients or coworkers. 

After deciding to come off birth control, I decided to find a new OBGYN to talk about pain management with. The one I found for myself is incredible and I am very glad I opted to see her. She told me she would do whatever I wanted (get a new IUD, try Lupron, or get a laparoscopy) and I eventually decided to go for a laparoscopy. It was supposed to be April 29, and that obviously did not happen thanks to COVID-19. 

Fast forward to today, I am spending a lot more time than usual on self-care and self-nurturing. For me, this looks like really seriously paying attention to my body and my symptoms. This pandemic has allowed me to slow down and spend more time with myself. I am learning how to (attempt to) manage my endo pain via diet changes and exercise, as well as adapt my lifestyle. 

I have spent time recently looking into what I should be eating and what things I should be avoiding. I have never had a food allergy or any dietary restrictions, so this is completely new to me. I have developed what is most likely IBS and a lactose intolerance. Avoiding gluten, red meat, alcohol, lactose, etc. is a major lifestyle change but every day I am trying harder to be better to my body. 

I have found social media to be extremely helpful during this journey. There is no better way to learn about endo or feel less alone than to hear other people’s stories. I am going to use this page to share more about my experience. 

It is important to be accessible and realistic with sharing cooking tips or recipes. I don’t use elaborate recipes, hard to find ingredients, or cook many things that require standing for long periods of time. I also don’t want to dirty too many dishes because nothing irritates my lower back pain like doing the god damn dishes. I am learning how to utilize the crock pot, meal plan, and meal prep better. I am also using this to hold myself accountable for being more gentle with myself. It is okay to eat frozen pizza three days in a row if that’s all I can muster. It’s okay to indulge in gluten and alcohol if I feel like that’s what I need. I am a fat person and I am not here for anything related to weight loss. When possible, cooking and eating should be an enjoyable experience. The ultimate goal is just to get through the day. 

If you have read this entire post, I thank you very much. Most of my other posts will be much, much shorter and include more interesting things - like gluten free cookie recipes. 

Please send me your recipes as well! I want to hear from you. 

xx

Emma 

[tiffanyraustin-blog]

You’ll always be my baby..

You came into my life so unexpectedly and left it far too soon. I never got the chance to see you, to hold you, to kiss you, to name you. But there is one thing I did get to do since the day I found out I was pregnant, and that was loving you unconditionally.

Your daddy and I were both shocked & so excited when we found out we were expecting. It was such a surreal feeling each time we saw a positive test. But I knew far before any test. I just ‘felt pregnant’.

After doing the math and speaking with my doctor, we came to the conclusion that I was roughly 4 weeks & found out extremely early. I was ecstatic. All I’ve ever wanted in life was to be a mommy to a beautiful baby of my own. I started taking prenatals right away, doctors orders. I set up my appointment for the first ultrasound, which would have taken place when I was 10 weeks. I couldn’t contain my excitement.

Daddy and I were so happy & ready to tell our families. And just like we thought, they were filled with joyful tears. They all started planning, while I was just focused on carrying a healthy baby. It’s all I could think about, day and night.

And then things started to change about a week later. Small amounts of blood here & there, but the doctor said not to be concerned and that it was normal. They were probably tired of hearing from me, because I called at least 10 times. But I was still extremely nervous. So they brought me in at 5 weeks & 5 days. I was nervous, but feeling positive.

My mom joined me due to Daddy being stuck at work. She got to come back into the ultrasound room with me & see everything firsthand. In a matter of 5 minutes, we saw little baby P on the screen & the tears just flowed from both of our eyes. I really was pregnant & there really was a baby bean inside me. It was such an amazing experience. I was so happy and grateful.

We sent the ultrasound picture to everyone close to us. We just couldn’t contain the excitement. But that excitement quickly turned to worry by the next day. I was bleeding. A lot. Once again, the doctor said it was normal after having a transvaginal ultrasound, telling me my cervix was sensitive and could have been irritated. So I listened to Mike and my doctor and just relaxed.

By Tuesday, it hadn’t gotten any better, so I called again. They said you’re not cramping or clotting. Everything will be okay. But after being on my feet all day, I knew it wasn’t okay. We went to bed that night & I was in so much pain. I couldn’t stop crying knowing my biggest fear was coming true. I was losing my baby.

The next day I went to the doctor to see what was going on, but in my head I already knew. I prayed the whole way to the doctor, the whole time sitting in the waiting room, and while the tech was getting the ultrasound ready that maybe I was wrong. And then the words ‘Your uterus is empty’ spilled from her mouth. 6 weeks & 4 days. In that moment, My heartbeat stopped. Everything was frozen. Time stood still. I felt dead inside.

How do you move on from a heartbreak like this? A month ago today, I lost you. My little baby P. And not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. About who you could have grown up to be. About who you would have looked like. About how much we loved you. My heart is in a million pieces. It hasn’t gotten any easier. The support groups I’m in say I need to talk about it & share my story and that it will help. But I break down every time I try.

Daddy as well as my family have been an amazing support system for me through this tough time. I’m still trying to cope. I’m still trying to heal. I’m still trying to get back to me. But you will never be off my mind. You’ll always be a part of me. And you’ll always be my baby ❤️

[kienova66]

Prompt request? Momma!May taking care of pregnant Jemma?

Fitz frowned, arms crossed over his chest as Coulson lookedat him imploringly.

“We really need your help,” Coulson said, voice level andfitted with the appropriate amount of pleading. Fitz clenched his jaw, notwanting to go out in the field but he knew it was either consent or have toexplain why he was reluctant.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I just need to speak with May first.” TheDirector nodded, going back to the file in front of him as Fitz left the room,trying to quell the unease in his stomach as he moved towards the gym, knowingthat he would find May in there, probably with Daisy. His suspicions werecorrect, the Inhuman taking on a punching bag while May quietly moved throughher Tai-Chi. She opened her eyes when he stopped in front of her, shifting hisweight from one foot to the other.

“Fitz,” she said, carefully transitioning into the nextmovement.

“I… um, I have a favour to ask,” he rushed. She raised aneyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “I’d prefer to speak to you in private,” headded, glancing over to Daisy who was just pulling her headphones out. Sighingand dropping her stance, May directed him to the opposite end of the room witha shift of her jaw before she started walking.

“What’s this favour?” she asked when they were out of Daisy’searshot, eyes flicking over where Fitz was nervously massaging his hand.

“I… I need you to look after Jemma. Coulson has me going outon a mission and she’s… she’s not been well and, uh,” he rambled, feeling hischeeks heat. “She’s going to be furious that I’ve spoken to anyone but Ifigured if anyone can keep a secret and keep calm it’s you.”

“Fitz, is something wrong?” May questioned, her expressionshifting slightly as she put a hand on his elbow, watching his face. Fitzfought with himself for a moment before sighing, eyes slipping shut as a breathshuddered out of him.

“Jemma’s pregnant,” he started, barely above a whisper. “Shespent the entire night being sick and she’s exhausted and hormonal and she’sterrified that something’s going to go wrong and that she’s going to lose thebaby. She’s only eight weeks along, she doesn’t want anyone knowing. But I can’tin all good conscience leave her alone but I couldn’t tell Coulson and –”

“I’ve got this,” May assured him, stopping him before hecould become slightly hysterical. He took a deep breath, nodding.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling softly at her before duckingout of the gym to go gather the equipment he needed. May watched him go, tryingto contain the wave of affection that washed through her at his concern for hiswife. She showered quickly, dressing before heading off towards Fitz and Jemma’sbunk, ignoring the look of curiosity from Daisy as she left. She knocked softlyon the door before sliding her key-card through the control panel andoverriding the lock before slipping inside.

Jemma was curled up on her side, an empty trash bin next tothe bed. She was pale, dark circles beneath her eyes even in sleep. It was inthe dim light that May saw the young girl that had first stepped on the Busyears before, albeit she looked more tired than bubbly, but the worry linesseemed to have diminished in sleep and the ghosts behind her eyes wereshuttered away. Planting herself in the chair by the desk, she grabbed a discardednovel, flipping it open and starting to read.

She stayed reading quietly for a few hours before Jemma madea discontented noise, squirming around. Carefully, May crossed the room to siton the edge of the bed, stroking Jemma’s hair off her face. The scientistgroaned, rolling her face into the pillow for a moment before blinking up ather.

“May, what are –”

“Fitz sent me,” May explained, watching the slight panicfill Jemma’s eyes. “It’s okay Jemma. I’m not going to say anything to anyone.”Instead of placating the girl, it made her sit up, pulling her knees up to herchest and pressing her hand to her forehead as a wave of dizziness passedthrough her. Jemma breathed through her mouth for a moment, eyes clenched shutuntil she had control of herself.

“He shouldn’t have said anything to you either,” she snarled, sudden tears appearing in her eyes. “Afterall… this… this could be nothing. There’s no guarantees. I told… I told him Ididn’t want to tell anyone because… because if- if something happens I couldn’t–” She dissolved into sobs then, trying to curl even further in on herself asshe pressed her face into her knees.

“Oh Jemma,” May breathed, shifting until she could wrap anarm around Jemma’s shoulders. Although she stiffened at the contact, it wasonly for a split second before she was crumping against May’s chest, cryinginto her shoulder.

“I don’t want to lose this baby,” Jemma wept, her entire bodyshaking. May stroked her hair, keeping her close as she watched Jemma place ashaky hand on her belly, jerking it back after a second. May frowned at theaction but didn’t comment, trying to pacify the woman in her arms with silentaffection. When Jemma had calmed slightly, May sat back, looking at her.

“What scares you about this?” she asked softly, watchingJemma bite her lip, eyes still watering.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, sniffing as she looked downat her hands. “Everything.”

“There has to be something particular?” The question madethe younger woman pause, frowning as she tugged at a loose thread on theblanket before she let out a long exhale.

“I want this May. So much. And… and with everything that’shappened to us… what if this is just something else we’re going to have takenaway? I’ve been starved and tortured and to the future and a different planet.What… what if my body can’t handle this?” she hiccupped.

“You’ve survived all that for a reason. You’re one of thestrongest people I know.”

“Thank you,” Jemma muttered, unsure how to take thecompliment as she rubbed at her nose, the jumper she was wearing one that shehad stolen from Fitz.

“Have you talked to Fitz about this?”

“He… he’s trying to be optimistic,” she confessed. “I just…I don’t know how to listen to it right now.”

“Jemma, have you had an ultrasound yet?” May questioned,watching the girl shake her head. With a decisive nod, she slipped off the bed,tugging the blanket around Jemma’s shoulders. “Right. We’re going to fix that.”Jemma looked at her with confused, red-rimmed eyes before the pilot swept outof the room, heading to medical. None of the techs seemed brave enough toapproach her as she wandered over to the portable machine, grabbing a fewattachments before she left as quickly as she had come.

Jemma was sitting again when she got back, blowing her noseand trying to dry the still falling tears from her face.

“May –” she started, jaw snapping shut when May lifted herhand.

“I haven’t done this since I was fresh out of the Academy,so you might to have to talk me through it.” Jemma blinked at her.

“You… you had to give someone an ultrasound? May… this isn’tan abdominal ultrasound, it would have to be –”

“Transvaginal, I know Simmons. I was undercover at a labonce,” May explained. “Get yourself sorted out, I’ll turn around.” The wordsleft little to no argument and despite the blush Jemma felt filtering onto hercheeks, she stripped her pyjama pants off, tugging the bedsheet over her lap.

“We… you don’t have to do this,” Jemma muttered. May gaveher a look.

“Jemma. You’re going to be panicking until you know thingsare okay. And I know it won’t alleviate all your fears, but this might help, ifeven for a little bit,” she explained, sitting at the end of the bed andflicking the machine on, attaching the transducer and prepping it accordingly.Jemma scrunched up her nose at the reality of the device, spreading her legsand staring up at the ceiling. “You ready?” Jemma nodded, eyes closing as shetried to breathe through the discomfort, keeping her body still as thetransducer slipped inside her. “Jemma, breathe,” May encouraged, noticing howthe other woman was holding her breath. Jemma let out a shudder, tears slippingfrom her closed eyes as May turned her attention to the machine in her lap.

“Is – is there a heartbeat?” Jemma asked after a few minutes,her voice breaking on the query. May smiled, flipping the audio on.

“You tell me,” she whispered, the whooshing sound thumpingaround the room. Jemma let out a sob, her hand coming up to cover her mouth asthe baby’s heartbeat surrounded her. “Little one looks alright to me.” May heldup the screen, showing Jemma the blurry image of the embryo. Jemma’s shakinghand came to press against the monitor then, stroking over the picture of thebaby.

“Hi,” she breathed, a beaming smile crossing her face as shetraced the little figure, a laugh exploding out of her when it moved, squirmingaround. “Oh, hi.” She didn’t notice Fitz standing in the doorway, a dumbstrucklook on his face as he blinked, unable to stop his own tears when he realisedwhat was going on. May glanced over at him, jerking her head slightly as anindication that he should move. He was across the floor in a second, droppingto his knees next to the bed as he kissed Jemma’s temple, his hand joining hersagainst the monitor.

“Jem,” he croaked.

“There’s a heartbeat Fitz,” she told him, voice catching asshe kissed him, smiling the entire time.

“You should record this,” May gently suggested, watching asFitz fumbled for his phone, turning on the audio capture as they all sat insilence for a minute. He used the camera to record the screen after, trying tokeep the shaking in his hands to a minimum but failing. “Alright, Jemma, I’m goingto take this out now.” Jemma nodded, eyes closed as she turned her face intoFitz’s chest, wincing when May removed the transducer. “And now I’m going toleave you two.” She grabbed the equipment, sweeping out of the room.

“Thank you,” Jemma whispered as Fitz climbed onto the bedwith her, gathering her into his arms as he passed her his phone, letting herplay the video he’d taken of the ultrasound. “I know I said I didn’t wantanyone else to know yet but… May… she was perfect. Thank you.” Fitz kissed hercheek.

“Think she’s going to let us have the baby call her grandma?”

Jemma’s laughter boomed around the room.

[blackuni1986]

I went for the pelvic exam on Friday November 6th. They did a transvaginal ultrasound, since the tech could not find my uterus by a regular ultrasound. It showed a 1.6cm cyst on my right ovary, the same ovary I had dealt with a cyst on previously years ago.

Then the assistant did a pelvic exam and it hurt like hell. She was glad I was getting nitrous for the procedure because it was so painful.

Also mentioned, I have 'congested pelvis disorder'. I never heard of it before. She said the veins around my pelvis were enlarged and that the Dr could fix them during hysterectomy.

That evening, I suffered alot of pain from that exam. We got PF Chang's and I love that damn ginger beer!

Saturday morning, we were off to find the recreational marijuana dispensary to get some things for me to have after the procedure that day. Thankful that I did.

Meeting the Dr for the first time, I loved him. Nurse started the nitrous, it just felt like oxygen. The Dr started on me, did a cystocopy to confirm the interstial cystitis, and was telling the nurse that it was spread all through my bladder. I guess one they did earlier that day was not as bad.

I had tears running out of my eyes, he started the d&c and hysteroscopy. 0 out of 10 recommend having this done without being under sedation. I felt everything, he said that he couldn't really tell what condition my uterus was in because all of the scarring from the ablation I had last year. But said he still needed to get a sample of cells to send to the lab.

After, We discussed the hysterectomy, and he suggested doing the da Vinci robotic surgery because it would be more effective and precise.

We left the Dr office and went to get food before heading back to the hotel. I was bleeding alot, I ate one of the indica gummies we picked up. It kicked in about a half hour later. So glad that we went to the dispensary. I don't think I would have made it through the weekend without it. At the hotel, I was nauseous I couldn't eat right away. We watched The Office for hours. Brad took ate a gummy as well and I finally ate my burger from earlier. So much pain that evening but finally got some sleep.

We head home on Sunday. Kinda uncomfortable ride home, but could have been worse.

Took Monday off to recuperate.

Went to work Tuesday, it was hard to sit, then I got really nauseous mid day and started gushing,my period was here. What the fuck I was sick and in so much pain. I wanted to go home early but was trying to catch up from being off work.

Wednesday I worked from home, still hurt like fuck.

By Friday I was starting to feel better, and my period stopped also. My body is doing weird shit.

Right now I'm sitting here on Saturday, with an upset stomach, we hard dinner and I feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest/back/stomach. It's hard to breathe, I feel like my uterus is going to fall out.

Got a call this week that I had a urinary tract infection. Picked up antibiotic and started it.

Had a mammogram on Friday also.

Have a follow-up to go over results from d+c next Friday. Will do another update then.

#endometriosis #adenomyosis #interstitialcystitis #congestedpelvisdisorder

[youarealltrollops]

I just need to get some stuff off my chest and it's long and bad. I tried to come up with all the triggers but damn. It almost hits them all.

I have always known I was everyone's least favourite. My dad had my older sister, and my mom my brother. It was obvious to me since I can remember. But it wasn't just them, my aunt's and uncles either didn't like either my brother and I or preferred my brother. My grandparents favoured my brother too. For about 4 months I was my other grandma's favourite grandchild when I was 4. But she got remarried to a man who hated me, so I wasn't allowed to see grandma anymore.

When I was 10 years old I was hit by a car. Which was and is super traumatic. The nurses on duty kept going on about how sad it was that I wouldn't be able to have a baby. That weekend my grandparents came down to see, my brother. Because his birthday was 11 days before I was hit. Even when I was almost killed people favoured brother.

When I was 13 my grandpa died. He had a triple bypass and never woke up. I was not allowed to visit him because of allergies that year. Finally on the last day I begged enough that they let me see him, from 10 feet away.

At the funeral my mom held my dads hand. My grandma held my brother's. And I was alone. Behind them. I remember so clearly feeling alone and shattered. During the service I leaned forward because it felt like my heart was going to come out of my chest. And my great aunt grabbed my shoulder and yanked me straight. Because I was not allowed to grieve because my brother and him were so close.

As a side note my brother blames me for my grandfathers death. Still. 12 years after. Sometimes it's a fight to remind myself that it's ridiculous and that I couldn't have killed him.

That same year I had a "friends" mother yell at me in front of my male teacher that I was a slut because I have big boobs. I was so bullied..

When I was 15 I met an older boy who asked me out. He spent the next 3 years abusing me. Telling me how awful I was and describing how he cheated on me. He even brought me to the other girls he was sleeping with. They told me how ugly I was and that I was obviously dumb. He beat me and eventually started raping me. I made the mistake of telling him my greatest dream and he made so much fun of it.

I was assaulted at school and called racist. This girl got a huge group of kids, like 40 and caught me alone. Someone actually took a video of it and showed it to a friend. The only reason I didn't get expelled. the girl who assaulted me said she did it because I called her the n word. In it you see me trying to remain calm but that I'm terrified. I just stood there asking her to go away and leave me alone. the she turns and punches me. My head hit the brick wall then she's on me. I start screaming and telling her to get off me. Because of that video there's proof I didn't say anything racist. And that's the only reason I didn't get expelled. For the rest of high school people would stop me in the halls and quote the video at me and make fun of me for not hitting back.

At 16 I ended up pregnant. I lost over 50 pounds in one month and had the worst experience with it. The doctor at the hospital, I'd gone in because I was vomiting blood and still getting negative pregnancy tests. I will always hate him for the way he came into the room with the biggest smile on his face to tell a very sick teenager that she was pregnant. When I told him I wanted an abortion he got made and sent me for an ultrasound where they made me listen to the heart beat (not the law here) and then had a transvaginal ultrasound where the tech shoved it in with no lubrication, and jabbed around. At the actual abortion the doctor who performed it held up the bloody mess and said "there's your baby. I hope you're happy"

My mother knew and has never treated me the same since then. Which sucks. My period since then was 1 day long and barely one tampon. Before that was 2 days. I've been to countless doctors who laugh at me.

I graduated that year, a year early because of the torture of the other kids.

Since the abortion I have never wanted sex. Because I don't want those feelings ever again. The guy I dated started raping me. Finally I broke up with him. He started stalking me at my University and following me around. I ended up going nowhere alone because of him.

I started dating a girl after and he found out. He texted my mother that I was dating a girl. So yet again my relationship with my mom was wrecked.

She broke up with me by sending me a a song bridge over troubled water. And then blocking me. As a way of getting over her I would play cards against humanity online and I met some really wonderful people. Including my ex.

Hes Jewish and finally something in life clicked and I have wanted to be Jewish since. But that's been a whole mess.

I moved to my hometown in part to hide from the guy I dated in high school and to pursue conversion, while there I met my husband.

While in my hometown I started treatment for my depression, anxiety, sleep issues, and we were going to make a plan for adhd and test for autism.

I worked a horrid job. I was called the "RR" by a manager (for r-word receptionist) and another manager was hugely anti semitic towards me. She one day come in from a smoke with a handful of ashes and blew them in my face telling me that it was my ancestors. Finally because of my treatment i started standing up for myself more and more. So I got fired. The boss, who had been my mom's boss told me "there's a million reasons why were doing this but were not going to get into that now." Then he offered to be a reference for me.

My other grandpa had a stroke. The kids my parents took in when I was 18 needed someone to take care of them so my parents asked me to move back. so I did. It's been such a nightmare.

I got a job that is just causal so that I can watch the little ones for them and I love it. Sometimes. But some places I work is not great. And the people suck. My husband has been struggling to find work.

My grandpa is in the hospital right now and because of covid only my mom is allowed to see him. Anytime I ask how he's doing my mother complains about him instead of telling me.

I've been working the last two weeks and my mother bitches because she has to be with the kids 24/7 (were homeschooling because of covid) they asked me to work another 2 weeks minimum there and I turned them down to help out with the kids and my grandpa.

Everytime I do anything or say anything lately my mother gets made at me or pouts or whatever.

To find out my dad is going to kick my husband and I out because we're so lazy and ungrateful. And I'm sick right now to my stomach trying to figure out what we're going to do.

There's only person in the world who I've been their favourite person and has loved me so much is my 2 year old niece. And because I don't get along with my brother or his girlfriend I never get to see her. I hate his girlfriend because she hits my nieces and I'm not allowed to protect them and it kills me.

So yeah. My life fucking sucks and I wish I would have died.

[makingbabyk]

May 30, 2019

So here’s the beginning… well, really I guess the beginning was when I made this decision 10 years ago. But for our purposes, this is really where the fun starts. Let’s start with a disclaimer though.

Hi everyone. If you’ve come to this blog, you probably know me to some degree. So let me be clear, I’m using this space to chronicle my journey into the world of fertility, and the life events that happen around that journey. That will probably mean I spend some time talking about bodily functions that you maybe don’t want to hear about. Whether you’re a friend, or family, I don’t want to hear you complain because I talked about my vagina and you don’t want to hear about it. This blog is about making a baby. And if you don’t know how babies are made, you need to go talk to the person who raised you.

So why am I doing this? Well, I want a kid. I’ve wanted a kid since I was a kid. I’ve always known I was supposed to be a mom. It just took me a long time to realise that it wasn’t going to happen in the traditional way. Let me tell you a story…

When I was a kid, I was sure that all women did things the way my mom did. You got married at 20, you had your first kid at 22 and your second by 26…. That was just the way it was done. As I got older I of course knew that those ages weren’t set in stone, but the general timeline was still stuck in my head. I was 25 before I woke up and realized that getting married and having a kid before I was 30 probably wasn’t going to happen. I needed to change my expectations. 

And so I did. It occured to me that what I wanted was to be a mom… being a wife was secondary, just a stop on the road to mom. And honestly? I wasn’t all that concerned with finding a life partner. If it was going to happen, it would happen, there’s no time limit on relationships. There IS however, a time limit on getting pregnant. And my clock was starting to wind down. So I made myself a promise. If I hit 35, with no partner in sight, I was going to have a baby on my own. 

When I hit 30 I became less concerned with the 35 age limit, and more concerned with making sure I was capable of having a kid by that age. I needed to lose weight, save money, and make sure my income was such that I could afford this kid. That’s a multi-year project, and it was hard work. 

But now? I’m 34. And it’s baby time.

More to come….

September 6, 2019

So I haven’t written anything in the last few months because there hasn’t been anything to tell.  

After a very stressful end to 2018 and a hectic beginning to 2019 I’ve spent the last 6 months trying to get my eating and exercise routine back on track. It’s been an uphill battle and it took me longer than I like to realize I can’t do it on my own. So I hit the nutritionist for a kickstart on the food thing, and I’ll be seeing my old trainer for a kickstart on the workout thing. 

In addition to that, I got into my doctor for my regular yearly check up yesterday, and told her I wanted a referral to the fertility clinic of my choice. So in addition to the regular yearly check up tests, I also had to do extra bloodwork and then book an ultrasound, since the clinic would make me do all that anyway.

My doctor, Dr W, was very supportive and we talked a bit about what the fertility clinic would probably have me do once I got in for my initial consult. She also confirmed that she can’t be my primary care once I get pregnant, which is a bit of a downer, but not too much of a surprise.

Today I had the ultrasound appointment, which was ooddles of fun I can tell you. (If there was a sarcasm font I’d be using it here.) First the tech did an abdominal ultrasound, which wasn’t anything special. Then she sent me to go pee and it was on to the fun times. The transvaginal ultrasound. 

For anyone who doesn’t know, that is exactly what it sounds like. They shove a probe up your vaginal and take pictures that way. 

It wasn’t enjoyable by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn’t painful or anything. The last part of if was a bit more uncomfortable because apparently my left ovary is a bit higher and she had to really press in order to get a clear picture for the measurements they need.

Overall it wasn’t the best way to spend my lunch hour, but I figure I’m about to have a lot of people all up in my business, so I better get used to it.

Next week will be my follow up with Dr W to go over all the results and then send them off to the clinic. Then it should be 6-8 weeks for me to get an appointment. Followed by a month or two of cycle monitoring, I’m sure. It’s going to be the new year before I even get to try and actually get pregnant, I think. But at least the process has been started!

More to come…

September 12, 2019

Today I had my follow up to last week’s physical. My Cholesterol is still a bit high, but only in the range of “cut back on the processed foods please” and not “you need to be on medication.” So that’s not too bad.

The ultrasound came back good, I have a couple of fibroids, 5mm and 9mm each, which aren’t a big deal, according to my doctor. 

And all the other bloodwork came back fine. 

So Dr W is sending the referral request to Create Fertility today. Hopefully they’ll give me a call in the next week, and I’ll be in their office inside 8 weeks.

Yesterday I got the news that a coworker and his wife are expecting their first baby. That’s starting to be a very annoying thing to hear. On the one hand I’m super excited for them, and for all the people in my life who are having babies (and there seems to be a lot of them). But on the other hand… I’m months away from even getting to start to TRY and get pregnant. And it’s going to cost me thousands of dollars to do it. It’s frustrating, and a bit depressing at times.

But I’m trying really hard to keep an upbeat attitude and not let other people’s successes make me feel like a failure. 

Easier said than done, but I’ll keep working on it.

Or maybe it’s just hitting me so hard today because it’s rainy and gloomy and I just want to curl up in bed because my stomach was messed up last night so I didn’t get a lot of sleep.

Yeah. I’ll go with that.

More to come…

September 21 (10:30pm)

Someone remind me why I can’t just go out and find a guy to have sex with on the right days who will then then fuck right off and I never have to see him again?

I may have woken up at 4am and had a full day of sun and alcohol. I need to go to sleep. 

More to come ….

September 30 (9:30pm)

I got the call from the clinic today. 

I was at work and when I looked at my phone to see who was calling me… I damn near cried. I was just so relieved to know it was going to happen. 

My appointment is October 29 at 11am. They say it’ll take 2-3 hours. That’s a Tuesday so I had to talk to my boss about what kind of time I should take off, since it’s right in the middle of the day. I also decided to tell him why I’ll be going to appointments. He was very understanding and said it wouldn’t be a problem for me to take the time when I needed it. 

So the appointment will include blood work and another set of ultrasounds. Apparently the previous tech didn’t do a follicle count, so that needs to be done. 

On the one hand I’m so excited and I want to talk about it with everyone. On the other I’m scared out of my mind. I’m doing this alone and some days I wonder how I can make it all work. I know I have support but when I start to think about going to birth classes alone. And going through labour and delivery alone. Midnight feedings alone.

 Some days it all feels like it’ll be too much. Then I see a mom with her baby and I ache for it. It scares me how much I want this some days. How much I ache to have a baby. 

I’m terrified it might not happen. And I don’t know what I’ll do if none of this works. I think I could be content without a child. But I’m not sure I’d feel happy or fulfilled. 

Truth be told, I probably need to start therapy. There’s so much going on in my head, it’s probably a good idea to talk it out with someone. 

Just another thing to add to the growing list. 

More to come ….

October 8, 2019

So on Friday last week I got a call from the Co-op housing building that I’ve been on the waitlist for the last 3 years. There’s a one bedroom available on December 1 and they were asking me if I wanted to come view it. I said yes and I’m going to look today. The problem is that I seem to be the only person in my life who absolutely doesn’t want me to have to move right now. I’ve already told my landlord I’ll be staying past the end of my lease, which is November 30. It’s also the holiday season, which is an insanely busy time for me. And I’ve got the start of my fertility treatments coming up. The thought of having to move right now makes me want to vomit and cry. 

Thankfully I’m pretty sure I won’t actually get the unit, there’s a couple of people in front of my on the wait-list who want it, apparently. So I probably won’t actually have to worry about it. But if they both change their minds, then I’m going to need to figure out if I can actually handle moving in December, AGAIN. But also if I can afford two apartments in December since I don’t have enough time to give my landlord the 60 days notice I’m required to. 

If I don’t get it/don’t take it if I do get it, AND if my promotion comes through this month. In the new year I’m going to ask to get moved to the two bedroom waitlist. If I wait until I’m in a one bedroom unit, I won’t be able to apply for the two bed until I’ve been there for a year. And I will need a two bedroom unit once the kid is here, or at least after they leave a crib.

Overall this week has sucked large and I’m so ready for it to be done. And it’s only Tuesday. 

But I’m going to Shady Queens, a charity drag ball, on Thursday night and I’m taking Friday as a personal day to reset my brain and go to Tweed early. Dad and I have the home opener of the Belleville Sens Friday night and Sunday is turkey day. So some family time, a four day weekend, and a chance to recharge my brain are on the way. I just need to get through these next three days.

More to come….

October 22, 2019

Remember when I said “Thankfully I’m pretty sure I won’t actually get the unit, there’s a couple of people in front of my on the wait-list who want it, apparently. So I probably won’t actually have to worry about it.”? Well… I got it. 

I went to the viewing and when I got there the property manager told me there were actually two units available and I could have my pick. Somehow 23 people in front of me on the waitlist decided they didn’t want either unit. So I went and looked and fell in love with the second unit, it’s on the 7th floor and is above the courtyard tree line so it gets lots of sun, faces south west and is generally awesome.

I left the place and called home to freak out with mom and dad about having to move in less than 2 months with everything else that is going on. They managed to talk me off the ceiling and I called the co-op the next day to tell them I wanted the unit. Since there was going to be reno’s happening in the month before my move in date, I also asked if it would be possible to move in a day or two early, December 1 would just be a really awful day for me to have to move. And that’s when the manager said the sweetest words I’ve ever heard, “Oh, the 7th floor unit isn’t available until February 1.” Folks, I damn near cried in relief.

I went back the next week to pay the deposit and get the hydro info I needed and now I’m officially moving February 1. Well, probably a day or two early, but yeah.

It was an emotional few days, but thankfully I now don’t have to worry about adding a move on top of all the other shit going on. I don’t even have to think about it until January, really. I just have to give my notice to my landlord and arrange the movers. 

And now I can focus on my consultation appointment in a week… holy shit, that’s in one week.

More to come….

October 28, 2019

Well I was doing fine, not really nervous, and not really thinking about tomorrow’s appointment. Then a coworker asked me if I was taking tomorrow off for my appointment and my stomach dropped and now I want to throw up. Of course that isn’t helped by the fact that I’m stress eating. So I’ve had too much sugar, am feeling nauseated. And I’ve got more than a half dozen other things going on this week that also need my mental attention. 

Needless to say, I'm feeling pretty freaked out and just want to crawl back into bed and cry. 

I’m not anticipating a decent night's sleep tonight, which will make tomorrow’s appointment all the more fun, I’m sure. 

I’m absolutely terrified that I’m going to get to that appointment tomorrow and they’re going to tell me I’m too fat to have a baby. I don’t even know what I would do if that happens. 

I keep starting sentences and then deleting them because all I can think to type is the same circular freak out over and over again. So I guess I’ll close this until I have something to say tomorrow. 

Although if they tell me to worst, I’ll probably just delete this entire thing; no point in a baby blog if there will never be a baby. 

Fuck. I need to find something else to focus on.

More to come… hopefully...

October 30, 2019

Yesterday was the consult and it actually went well.

First I had a 30 minute wait then the pelvic and intra-vaginal ultrasounds, followed by another wait before getting in to see the doctor, Dr Dv.

We went over my medical history and what it was I wanted to have happen. She immediately recommended a high dose of folic acid, so I started that last night too.

She then ordered half my blood be drawn for tests, they took 12 vials yesterday and I need to go back for more today.

She also wants me to have a tube test done, that’s where they put a foam up through my cervix and use an ultrasound to see if my fallopian tubes are blocked.

I also need to go to a counselling session, since I’m using a sperm donor, which is fine because I wanted to do that anyway.

And then I had to get another pelvic exam with some swabs taken.

So the total for the day was 12 vials of blood, three times I had to get undressed and redress, and 2 different people up my vagina.

She did answer a lot of my questions, like:

I need to pick my sperm donor before my next appointment so we’re ready to go when it’s time

I only need 1 vial at a time for the insemination

She wants to try 3 rounds natural, and if I’m not pregnant after that then we will reevaluate the treatment plan

My BMI is high, but she’s happy I’ve been losing weight and wants me to continue what I’ve been doing, every pound lost will only help me and it’ll make pregnancy easier

Overall it was an emotional day, but it’s actually happening!

Next up is the last of the bloodwork today, tube test and counselling on November 26 and then my follow up with Dr Dv on December 4.

It’s gonna be a crazy month, but holy shit this is happening.

More to come….

[onthesquare]

Baby not on board

Baby Not on Board: An attempt at finding peace after miscarriage- a Millennial Male perspective

                 “You have a 60/40 chance of the fetus being viable” the doctor said as he sat across from my wife who was lying down on an uncomfortable sterile bench after being probed and prodded for the better part of the morning. He was calm, spoke in a matter of fact way almost nonchalant. Sam (wife) and I made eye contact, in hers I saw confusion and fear, and in mine I was trying my best not to show the same. I felt as if I was watching a movie, having an out of body experience floating above watching the room and all the players in it.

               Allow me to back up a bit, one morning about two weeks prior to this sudden visit to the emergency room, I was downstairs and Sam called me upstairs rather abruptly. She was preparing to go on a work retreat for a few days so I wouldn’t see her for the rest of the week. When I walked into our bathroom I saw on the counter two pregnancy test and then my eyes met hers. I was a deer in headlights and so was she and the only thing that broke our stare off, was the smile I gave her after a few moments. We were pregnant. Shocked, happy, terrified all of the things you are told you are likely to feel when you find out you are going to have a baby, was running through my head.  “Would I be a good dad?” “Am I/we ready for this?” I had all the “feels” one might have in that moment.

               It took a few days and another pregnancy test to begin to settle into the idea that we were having a child. Sam and I would randomly look at each other with “shock face” throughout the day or while watching TV. On a couple occasions I put my hand on her belly and prayed over the baby that it and she (Sam) would be ok, happy and healthy. I even kissed her stomach a few times.  It was early and from what I had read it was important not to share with anyone until 12 weeks just in-case something happened in the first trimester. I was so excited I wanted to tell someone.  Sam even downloaded apps that described how she should be feeling week-by-week and giving illustrations of the size of the fetus (ex, quinoa, long grain rice, lentil). We nicknamed ours “Baby Quinoa.”  

               Around 6AM on the morning of July 23rd 2019, my wife wakes me up and asks me if I can rub her back because she was in a lot of pain. This is not uncommon because she has Psoriatic Arthritis and Fibromyalgia and has constant pain throughout the day.  Half asleep I began rubbing her back and a few minutes later she rushes to the bathroom. She comes out and says “There’s new blood, I think we need to go to the emergency room or urgent care.”

               It is amazing the amount of energy used in a highly stressful situation to stay calm. Every fiber of your being on edge wanting to break free while on the outside steady as to not freak out your wife who is already slowly melting down. I glanced over to her many times as she sat in silence, streams of tears rolling down her cheek each one a piercing dagger in my heart sending me farther into hopelessness and sadness. I didn’t know what to say to comfort her, I didn’t know how to make her worry go away, I could not make it better. We arrived a private (I liken it to concierge) emergency room up the road from our home. They checked us in and we sat down in a very cold plain looking waiting room. Even the furniture had a hue of forgettable gray.  

               Bringing the story back up to speed, the doctor left and it was just Sam and me, we didn’t know whether to cry or pray or just sit in silence. We were confused, we didn’t know how in eight days we went from shocked, scared and excited about have our baby, to being worried that we were going to lose it. During the entire exam process Samantha started bleeding and never really stopped. Through two doctors (there was a shift change) a nurse and ultrasound technician, no one reacted when we repeatedly stated that Sam was worried about the blood. I was worried about the blood but because medical professional gave any reaction to the amount I thought maybe they knew what they were doing and everything would be ok. All they said was “that’s normal” or “that happens during these exams.”   Neither one of us believed that there should be that much blood.

               During one of the breaks after the ultrasound tech did her painful violation of my wife both on her lower abdomen as well as transvaginal, Sam got up to use the restroom. I knew that I should not have but I needed to know. I looked at the tech and asked “So what do you think?” She looked at me making eye contact and with a completely unemotional face replied “I’m not supposed to say anything, the doctor is supposed to explain to you…”

“Yeah” I interrupt anticipating having to convince her to tell me something.  

               “But I didn’t see anything on the sonogram. That could be because it’s too early to tell if she is only 6 weeks, “she said.

               “Or?” I said and at that moment Samantha came back in the room and the tech repeated the same thing to her that she had just told me. The tech left and Sam told me that there was a lot of blood in the toilet and she couldn’t get it to flush so she asked me to try to get the toilet flush. I went into the bathroom and there was a lot of blood in the toilet.  I was able to get the toilet flushed and had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, then I think I knew.

               I came back in and sat on the couch, looked at Sam and knew she wasn’t feeling well.  A few moments later the doctor came in and explained he was sending off the blood tests to a lab to check the HCG levels. He wanted us to stay in the emergency room until we received the results, encouraged us to “relax” and watch Netflix and that is what we tried to do.  I occasionally walked over to kiss Sam on the forehead and rub her arm hoping that anything physical touch would help calm us both.

               Roughly two hours passed and the doctor came back in the room to speak with us. He told us that our HCG Levels were in the 670’s which meant we were still pregnant (at the moment).  The doctor told us that 670 was low which meant one of two things. He wanted us to come back 2 days to see if those levels had doubled if they had, more than likely we would be ok. We would need to be monitored every two days to see if we progressed in the way we should. If the numbers did not double we would be in the middle of a miscarriage and would likely have to do a D&C. If the numbers stayed stagnant, there would be the chance of having an ectopic pregnancy.

               An Ectopic pregnancy is dangerous because it means a baby is developing in the fallopian tube or ovary instead of the uterus. This development can cause a rupture, excessive bleeding and even death. Of all the things the doctor could have said the one thing I wish he would have never mentioned (other than a miscarriage) was the possibility of an ectopic pregnancy. It was the first thing my wife mentioned being worried about that morning.   In that moment we not only had to worry about losing our baby, but also about the very serious possibility that we were having an ectopic pregnancy and she would need surgery to survive.

               After a while the nurse came back in and gave us some paperwork from the visit and gave us directions for the next two days reminding us to come back same time to check levels. Sam again tried to tell the nurse about the bleeding and the nurse, again, told her it was normal and she should just get some rest. It felt as if all the medical professionals were in a trance and no matter what either of us said, no one appeared to be moved. The nurse did say if Samantha was feeling worse or dizzy to call and if we needed to go back they would see us again that day.

               We gathered our things and decided to go to the Walgreens next door to pick up a few things. Originally, Sam was going to stay in the car and I was going to go in, pick up what we needed so we could get food and go home. We had a long morning, it was after 1pm when left the emergency room.  We got what we needed and went to Chick-fil-a for food. All of a sudden Sam started feeling dizzy and light headed and nauseated. We got through the line and she asked me to pull over because she was going to be sick. It worried me to pull over because I thought neither of us ate anything so there wouldn’t be anything in either of our stomachs other than alkaline water.

               I pulled over and she got out of the car. Standing a few feet from the car she mentioned later that she blacked out but didn’t pass out. All I could see was her standing there. She was sucking on an anti-nausea drop recommended for pregnant women to help with morning sickness. She took the drop out of her mouth dropping it to the ground so that I could hear it shatter on impact. She swayed a bit and then projectile vomited an ocean wave of water on to the concrete. It was only once but there were a couple times that she thought she might again.

               Sam finally got back into the car and I asked her if we should go back to the emergency room. She said “maybe.”

               Sam called the emergency room as we were driving home and asked to speak with the nurse. When the nurse got on the phone she said “Yah I’m thinking that because you guys were here for a while and you didn’t eat anything, you should eat and try to get some rest.” “You should eat some crackers and drink some water, don’t eat anything heavy.”

               As Samantha was talking to the nurse she gave me the phone and said she couldn’t talk anymore so I finished the conversation, and she almost passed out. I was scared I didn’t know what to do. We got home and Sam got out of the car and went right upstairs, she ate and slept for 2 hours. When she woke up she felt better physically but there was a horrible heaviness in the air that remained for the next couple of days.

               On July 25th we went back and met a third doctor who immediately hooked Samantha up to a saline IV, drew  blood and sent it off to labs. We had the same Ultrasound Tech, she did both procedures again. She told us immediately that again she didn’t see anything. That all but ensured us we had miscarried. Shortly thereafter, the doctor came back in and explained to us that it appears to have been a complete miscarriage so there was no need for a D&C or follow up unless there was any issue with infection. He said that blood test results would come in later but he would give us the hormone levels over the phone.

               We sat in silence listening to him for a while and then his voice just kind of faded. We were both teary-eyed but didn’t want to break down in such a sterile place. I felt empty and I would not even allow myself to try to think about how Samantha was feeling I was weak and knew that would send me over the edge. All of a sudden, the doctor’s voice came back into focus. “If you don’t mind the best way we can get our services out there is by word of mouth, would you mind if I send you a survey to fill out about your experience with us?

               In an effort not to be rude I was cordial and said that we would fill out the survey. Looking back on it now, I should have told him how awful timing he had in asking us to give him a recommendation after we found out we lost our baby. We were not going to fill out a survey then and probably never. We went home and once we were safely upstairs in our bedroom we just embraced and cried. As relieved as we were to finally know what was going on, we were faced with the reality of something that we created was now gone. We were pregnant and then we weren’t.

               The next couple of days were really odd and a bit of a haze. We moved the children books that Samantha bought to a spare bedroom that we never use and closed the door. We didn’t necessarily want to be visually reminded of this loss. Although it appeared that everything commercial and ad on television had a newborn on it.  We finally decided to throw away the pregnancy tests Samantha had taken to prove that we were pregnant in the first place. One would think it would be a simple, they are just pregnancy tests and we weren’t even that far along. The reality is that what was growing in my wife’ womb was part me, part her and for whatever reason it was no longer growing.  We cried like we had not cried over the entire experience, just by putting those used tests in a trash bag and throwing them away.

How do I move forward?

No one ever prepares you for loss, there is no guide on what you should say or how you should feel. There is not really any amount of statistics that will make you feel better about losing something you got so excited about. They told us over and over that there was nothing we could do and that 15% of all pregnancies in the first trimester miscarry. I guess the doctors were trying in some way to make us feel better about what happened or to normalize it. It seemed to ease my wife’s mind a bit but did not really make me feel any better.

Everything that I read about coping with a loss such as this is about the woman and how she feels or what she is going through which is an obvious concern and should be the focus. Even when we began telling people the very first thing that people would ask me  “How’s Samantha doing?” or  “Is Samantha ok?“ I am grateful for their concerns because even as her husband I don’t know what she went through physically and to a great extent psychologically and emotionally. Society focuses on the woman because there is an assumption that the man has not yet connected with the baby when it’s still inside the woman’s body.  There is also an assumption that because it was so early, most people would not feel anything over a fetus good or bad.

It is hard to explain all the emotions I have experienced over that past two weeks. I began writing this essay in an attempt to give a male perspective of what it feels like to lose a child whether it be a fetus or full term. I am not the national spokesperson for all men and cannot begin to speak for all of us, I wrote this in an effort to encourage other men like me to express how they feel going through something like this as well. I hurt and I feel lost and empty. At times I question what is wrong with me that we had to experience trouble conceiving and bringing life to term.  After we began telling people about our loss, many expressed that they too had experienced miscarriages and how devastating it was for them going through something that is common but seems too taboo to talk about.

I struggle with daydreaming about the child that will never be, if he or she would look like me or be funny like Samantha. I wonder if he or she would have loved music or sports or history. My parents are getting older and sicker and as I am the baby of the family, I am also the only one who doesn’t have any children. I fear that they will pass and never have the opportunity to see another grandchild. We are also the only couple, on either side of our siblings, to have experienced a miscarriage.  

The world continues to move forward because it has to, I struggle with this feeling of impotence this feeling of emasculation. I want to try again and there is a part of me that is afraid to because I don’t want this to happen again, I want to avoid how I’m feeling now, as I would not wish it on anyone. We have decided to give ourselves a couple months to recuperate and reconnect, which I am thankful. I hope that our story can help others that have gone through a tragedy like this and it is also my hope that essay give a voice to other men and encourage them to reach out and find support wherever they can.  We are raised to be tough and virtually unemotional, but understand that there is power in being connected and empathetic with your spouse as well as others.

I want to dedicate this essay to my wife who has gone through so much and has been the best life partner anyone could ever ask for and all the women and men out there who have experienced this and had to work through it in silence. Finally, I want to dedicate this essay to the child that never was, our “Baby Quinoa,” you are somewhere with God and we will see you again one day I hope. For now I take it all day by day and try to remember to appreciate everything that I have more than worry about the things I do not.

 “Baby Quinoa”

June 2019- July 2019

  Corey Williams