I listen to myself

Today has been an okay day. Poopee ate all her meals, she pooped a couple of times (which is usual for us), and she is just her usual gorgeous self. But active. Very active. Chasing around the shops active.

Took her to the shops to have professional photos done today. I jumped in for a couple of cute mum and daughter shots. Just how can this be possible, me having a daughter, a little girl so gorgeous I ask to kiss her all the time (not that she has a choice).

There are still many nights I think about my little peanut, my small little heartbeat. I think about what-ifs, I think about what to do next year around his/her due date. And once again, I find it difficult to be around pregnant women. Damn that. double damn that. I thought I was cured. This friday I am going to dodge a planned outing with several mums from playgroup. One of the non-regular mums is already pregnant and is showing and is dying to show us her baby bump. I am not ready for that yet.

A distant friend phoned today. She had her daugther a little less than a year after Poopee was born. She told me she is returning to the workforce next week, and asked me, without alot of tact I must say, when am I going to start looking for work again since Poopee is so old already.

Well. My mouth quivered and uttered a whole heap of excuses, using keyphrases such as `she is sick all the time', `worried she might climb out of her cot and nobody is watching her', `don't trust childcare facilities', `maybe wait till she turns two'. She wasn't too convinced and dug further and assured me childcare facilites are more than fine etc. I felt terrible afterwards. I felt a little useless. I felt like maybe it is time to get a job.

Then five minutes passed. I got angry.

I know what I want. I have always known. I wanted to be a mum for so damn long, and now that I am a mum, I will be a stay at home mum for as long as I fucking want and for as long as it is financially secure enough for us to do so. I want to spend my day hanging out with my daughter, and spend an hour in the afternoon napping together. I just wish I had the courage and the right frame of mind to say that to her. Bitch.

The D and C

So the D&C happened on Monday. I actually started to bleed a little heavier the night before, with some decent cramps on Sunday afternoon. But I didn't bleed any heavy tissue or clots. It was just like a normal period if I tried not to think about what is actually inside.

But it was not meant to be, I was not meant to have the failure of the pregnancy resolved naturally. I went to the hospital myself early Monday morning by Taxi, leaving my two loves at home. Just sad to think later on that day I was to return home alone. Just myself.

I only slept an hour the night before. But I felt freshly awake.

I was given a couple of sedatives to help me relax prior to the procedure, which I was thankful for, and it felt like only five minutes had passed before the orderlies wheeled me into the theatre. My doctor spoke to me before, gently asking me if I was okay and patted me on the knee for reassurance. He asked for my consent to carry out a chromosome check on the embryo and endometrial products afterwards. I agreed.

I didn't have a last thought before I went unconscious, I really regret it now. I wish I have a nice thought, or at least think about something sentimental before I went under. But no it didn't happen. The next thing I know I woke up with a male orderly looking down at me, he said something I couldn't understand, but that's when I knew it was finally over.

Then back in my room - I cannot exactly remember crying but I must have because I was asked if I needed to see a chaplin. Not religious myself, but I felt it will be comforting to see a chaplin. The chaplin thankfully was a warmly spoken woman who held my hand and listened to me talked jibberish between sobs. She asked if I wanted her to say a prayer for us I agreed. It was really beautiful, she asked God for a warm spot in his beautiful place for my little peanut. She later gave me a soft love heart made of fabric and wool. Something tangible to hold onto. It was yellow with white little spots on it. The prettiest and happiest colour on the palette.

Later when Apeman came to pick me up, we went to the chapel within the hospital complex and I lit a candle.

And then we return home.

Still waiting for the much dreaded miscarriage. More than a week on.

Thanks to everyone who dropped by, quite a few new names and faces. Thank you so much to each of you. It really means alot to me.

I had some serious cramps the day after the final ultrasound. And since then I had a few small bleeds, but it is very light and it comes and goes. The uterus feels very heavy tonight. It feels like things are going to drop any second. I am so scared. I don't know if I am ready to see my pregnancy on its way out.

I talked to a mum friend, who had a similar experience recently (baby stopped growing at 6 weeks), and she described to me in detail what happened during her miscarriage. I want to be prepared for it. So upon her suggestion, I now permanently sit on a super-sized pad in case it happens.

I had been in contact with my doctor and he has organised a D&C for me upon my request. It will happen next Monday regardless of whether a natural misscarriage happens prior. It is not my intention to have medical intervention, to have my sweet little embryo sucked out of me, but because my body is not releasing the pregnancy naturally, I think this is the only other option. It breaks my heart thinking about it, the D&C. I am in pain. I still cry. I no longer enjoy my only solitary time at night - my shower - because I cry. So many things I want to say but don't know how to.

The irony is I am still getting a nauseous feeling at night. It is so sick. I have this sick feeling in my throat, just like I did when I was pregnant with Poopee, and during this pregnancy with Penelope. I don't know why I am still getting this terrible feeling. It just makes me even sadder.

I have won the lottery once already. I never ask for more. I never dare to ask for a miracle to happen twice. But it did and now it has been taken away. But this is not the reason I am sad, I am sad because I saw another life inside me. And then it wasn't living.

I now only wish for one thing - for my sweet little soul to have a beautiful place to go to. Somewhere nurturing, somewhere sweet, and never sad. Too precious. To have but not to hold.