Beam me up.

Yesterday I had my surgery. I learned after the fact that they ended up doing a D&E instead of a D&C because of how big the baby was. It’s a similar procedure, but involves dilating the cervix more and uses different methods to get the baby out. As a result, I’ve been a little more crampy and am bleeding more than I did immediately following the last time. But overall I think I’m doing okay. My doctor was incredibly compassionate yesterday — she obliged my last-minute panic and request for another ultrasound before surgery just to be sure the baby was really gone (she said she gets that request a lot), and she got us hand and foot prints of our baby, which was sweet of her to think to do.

Coming out of surgery was pretty similar to last time — the simultaneous relief that it was over, with the overwhelming sadness of realizing it was truly over. But while my doctor was amazing, I was less than impressed with the post-op care I received at the hospital. After they let D in the room to be with me, they told me I could get dressed whenever I was ready and then we were kind of on our own. When I stood up to get dressed, I started gushing blood, and they hadn’t even left me with any extra pads. D had to go flag down someone just to get an extra one to get us home. Just getting dressed and trying to get a new pad in place left the room looking like a murder scene. Then I was feeling dizzy and didn’t feel like I could walk to the car, so D had to flag someone down to get me a wheelchair.

On the way home I started feeling clammy and dizzy and had to make D pull over so I could throw up. But since I hadn’t really eaten anything since the night before, I couldn’t. Instead, the heaving caused me to pass a giant blood clot (sorry, TMI), which was a little alarming. I passed a few more large clots (I’m talking golf ball-sized — yikes) yesterday afternoon and evening, but thankfully the bleeding seems to have slowed way down today. I just hope it stays down now and that the worst is over. Our last experience with a D&C and the extended bleeding was just too much for me and I’m still traumatized by it.

I took the afternoon off work yesterday, and am taking the day off today. Tomorrow I’ll work from home, and then I’ll have the weekend to really recharge. It’s been nice to just have some me time today. I go back and forth between feeling fine and feeling really sad, which I’m sure is normal. I binge-watched the entire first season of The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt today, which was the perfect escape. I laughed my ass off, which was much-needed.

By now you’re probably wondering what the title of this post has to do with anything. I came across an article today about celebrities who have opened up about their miscarriages. One of the stars mentioned was Pink, and how she had written her song “Beam Me Up” after her miscarriage. I hadn’t heard the song before, so I looked it up. It’s beautiful and made me bawl my eyes out. I’ve been listening to it on repeat. Perfectly captures the sentiment I feel about my lost babies, and applies to anyone who’s lost a loved one, really.

The juxtaposition of watching Kimmy Schmidt and listening to this song pretty much captures the range of emotions I’m feeling today.

Same love.

Today the U.S. Supreme Court ruled DOMA (defense of marriage act) unconstitutional, forcing the federal government to recognize same-sex marriages in states where it is legal. I’ve always been a proponent of gay rights, and becoming a parent has only reinforced this for me. Looking at Theo’s sweet face and wondering what sort of a man he will one day become, I can’t imagine him being denied the right to one day marry the person he loves, whether that person be a woman or a man. It breaks my heart to know that other parents have lost their precious children to things like hate crimes and suicide because people can’t accept people for who they are. I like to think that Theo will grow up in a more tolerant society.

The following song/video from Macklemore and Ryan Lewis was released a while back, but in light of today’s news, seems appropriate. A beautiful tribute to love in all forms.

Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together.

This wasn’t our cycle. I am not pregnant.

I’ll admit, I took it really hard at first. Really hard. I know it was naive of me to think it could happen on the first try again, but a big part of me really hoped it would. After everything we’ve been through, I just want so badly to be pregnant again. It doesn’t help that it seems like everyone around me is pregnant. While I’m very happy for them all, it honestly just amplifies my pain.

I came across the above Elizabeth Taylor quote on Pinterest, and I’m really trying to keep some perspective. I’m reminded of the episode of Sex and the City where Charlotte miscarries and is completely debilitated by her grief, unable to leave her living room, until she watches an E! True Hollywood Story about Elizabeth Taylor. Inspired by the way Elizabeth overcame adversity, Charlotte pulls herself off the couch, puts on a fabulous pink dress and a pair of dark sunglasses, and finds the strength to finally leave the house with her head held high.

I know it’s fiction, but I’m trying to channel this type of positive attitude. I’m willing myself to believe that it’s okay it didn’t happen on the first try; that it’s normal, in fact. I still hope it doesn’t take us a long time, but success on the first try isn’t typical and isn’t a standard I should hold myself to. I’m also trying really hard to remind myself that other people’s pregnancies have no bearing on my own fertility. Not to mention, I don’t know what they’ve been through to get there. Some of them may have suffered multiple losses or struggled through invasive fertility treatments, or been through even worse circumstances than we have.

In my quest to keep a positive outlook, I’m also reminding myself that we are in the middle of a very messy master bathroom addition, which has made me severely congested and has caused my asthma to really flare up. All this old dust and crap falling out of the attic and walls probably isn’t great for me to be inhaling anyway, but I know I would be extra-nervous if I were pregnant now. I just don’t think I could forgive myself if something were to happen again and I had any doubts about whether it was something I could have caused or prevented. So in the grand scheme of things, it’s probably better to get this bathroom project wrapped first. Not to mention it’ll be so nice to have the room complete when those middle of the night bathroom trips kick in again. With any luck, we should be done in the next couple weeks – just in time to start trying again!

Speaking of house stuff, we didn’t end up getting that house I was obsessed with. We went to see it and loved it — we even talked to a lender and got pre-approved, and were all set to make an offer when it was suddenly pulled off the market. Apparently an ex came out of the woodwork and didn’t agree with selling or something. The real estate agent said it could very likely come back on the market as a foreclosure, but there were already three offers ahead of ours, anyway. I’m disappointed, but the idea of trying to rush the bathroom remodel and find a renter, while juggling a complex bankruptcy purchase did make me a little nervous. We’re still looking, and at least now we know we can financially make it happen, so we’ll be ready to pounce when the next house comes along.

At some point, things should start falling into place… right?

Glory.

The past few days, the gossip sites have been abuzz with the news of Beyonce and Jay-Z’s new baby, Blue Ivy Carter. I really don’t understand why celebrities can’t just give their kids normal names, but that’s a topic for another day…

What’s captivated my attention the most has been the news that Jay-Z and Beyonce suffered a miscarriage prior to Blue’s arrival. Yesterday, Jay-Z quietly released a track on his website called “Glory,” in which he not only professes his love and pride for his newborn daughter, but acknowledges the pain and fear brought on by the earlier miscarriage.

“Last time, the miscarriage was so tragic,
We was afraid you would disappear. But nah, baby, you magic.”

And

“False alarms and false starts,
All made better by the sound of your heart,
All the pain over the last time
I prayed so hard it was the last time.”

This part of the song touched me, especially. We’ve been in so much pain since the miscarriage. I, too, pray that was the last time. We were supposed to have heard the heartbeat that day we went into the doctor and found out our baby was gone. I can’t even describe how much I’m looking forward to hearing a heartbeat of our take-home baby someday. While fear could easily consume me if I let it, I just have to focus on the big picture and know that all the pain we’ve been through will be worth it one day. As Jay-Z states in the hook of his song:

“The most amazing feeling I feel,
Words can’t describe the feeling, for real,
Baby I paint the sky blue,
My greatest creation was you, you: Glory.”

Jay-Z and Beyonce have always been a very private celebrity couple, and I applaud them for opening up about something many people are reluctant to share. Obviously, I’m guilty of this too, since I didn’t even tell my own parents until a week ago. But it seems miscarriage has always been sort of a taboo topic, and it isn’t until you actually experience it that people start coming out of the woodwork to admit that they, too, have experienced pregnancy loss, or that their sister/mother/aunt/best friend has. It’s really too bad our culture isn’t more supportive, since the statistics for miscarriage are so high – one in four pregnant couples will experience it. I think if more celebrities and high-profile people were open about it, the rest of society would follow suit.

(photo via Getty Images)

Shut up, Kourtney Kardashian.

Yes, I know the title of my blog is a play on the reality show about the Kardashians, but that doesn’t mean I actually like any of them. I think they’re all obnoxious, self-centered and whiny. But a quote I read yesterday from Kourtney just sealed the deal. Apparently, Kourtney is nine weeks pregnant with baby number two by that d-bag Scott. And she thought nine weeks was a great time to announce it to the world. But what about waiting until the second trimester to announce like most people do? In her words:

“You’re supposed to wait until 12 weeks to tell people, but I feel confident.”

Oh I see… so confidence would have kept my baby alive? Good to know for next time. Maybe I’m over-sensitive these days, but comments like this just seem like a slap to the face for people who have suffered a loss.

Now, I wouldn’t wish the pain I’ve been through on my worst enemy, so I truly hope she has a healthy pregnancy and baby. But could you even imagine how that fame-seeking family would exploit a miscarriage? Disgusting.

(Image via eonline.com)