Labor Day

I spent Labor Day weekend at the in-laws. I fought tooth and nail to avoid going because a) my sister-in-law has a new baby and b) I would have to be around said baby and c) I was asked to be the godparent of said baby and attend the (Christening? Baptism? The sister-in-law is a fly-by-night Lutheran -- so whichever) and d) I'd just miscarried - again.

Needless to say, I finally relented, due in part to a conversation with my mother who pointed out that it was an "honor" to be asked to be a godparent and this was probably placing a tremendous strain on my husband.

When the idea, however, was brought up prior to our excursion that I would BABY-SIT said baby while husband and sister-in-law cooked for a party, I began hyperventilating. Completely panicked, I cried, "I WILL NOT BABY-SIT THE BABY. I WILL NOT. "

However.

Saturday found me changing diapers. And seeing my husband with said baby in a Bjorn. And trying to soothe said baby while he screamed and wailed (that boy has some lungs). I handed baby to the husband and made a quick exit to go to the grocery store, promptly got lost, and cried for about four hours. Yes, we are not completely in that "moving-on" head space, no we are not.

It felt ridiculous and weird trying to avoid the baby. I don't want people to have to tiptoe around me. All the same, I would really rather have stayed home.

As of late (read: the last two years), the Husband and I have had frequent moments where we don't see eye to eye. He doesn't understand why I find attending a baby shower or christening heartbreaking. He doesn't understand how I absolutely want to stay as far away from his new nephew as humanly possible. He doesn't understand the fear of trying again. He doesn't understand my frustration with the doctors and medical staff. He's completely optimistic about our future. I am, well . . .

He has, very kindly, agreed to read several books on the subject. And although right now I find little solace in them myself as they outline so precisely my own feelings that I tend to relive moments that I'd rather suppress, they are helpful in bringing my husband to, if not a perfect understanding, some understanding. These are the books that I have read (or am reading) and that I have shared with the Husband:

About What Was Lost: Twenty Writers on Miscarriage, Healing, and Hope by Jessica Berger Gross.
I attended a reading at a local bookstore where several of the authors read from their essays. It was a very moving and very sad evening. I am grateful to them.

To Full Term: A Mother's Triumph Over Miscarriage by Darci Klein.
Klein insisted on cervical measurements, heparin and close monitoring (and spent almost the entire pregnancy on bed rest) during her fifth and final pregnancy. She had two early miscarriages and gave birth to still born twins at twenty weeks. She now has two children.

Coming to Term: Uncovering the Truth About Miscarriage by Jon Cohen.
I am finding some of the research that he weaves together fascinating. It is a good counterpart to Klein's book as they disagree fundamentally on many points. It is always disheartening, however, to read of all the possible causes, when you have none of them.

Clomid will likely start in about a week. I'd like to say that I am optimistic - as "70% of women who miscarry four times will go on to carry to term in their next pregnancy" but I'm generally just puzzled. Is Clomid just thrown at every woman who has fertility problems, regardless of the cause? Is Clomid really the best route? Is this just the hurdle I have to get through to get the white flag for IVF with PGD? My doc seems to believe it is helpful for those who recurrently miscarry-but I won't be ready for pom poms and streamers until we see some results . . . if you know what I mean.