Posted by: DD | April 13, 2007

no. 421 – Imploding

As most of you know, I’ve had three known miscarriages.

The first one was Vivienne, whose death at 15+ weeks heralded in the world of infertility.

The second, a result of Hope-Overdose (aka IVF #1) was coined a chemical pregnancy, since the betas were falling before they even had a chance to go up, and the pregnancy was over by the fifth week.

My third was Wolf who fucked with my head from the moment we did the IUI with one mature follicle until she died just over the 8-week mark.

I would think that the pain and heartache that comes with multiple miscarriages follows logic. For the layman anyway. Logic and infertility, as we know have never gone together. They never will. Nevertheless, let us look at this "logically".

Logically, one would think it was Vivienne’s death that has affected me the most. She was the oldest fetus. Everything we thought that was safe, and beautiful, and easy, and…logical…was stripped from us in one horrible moment in time when the tech said, "I’m sorry, but there is no heartbeat."

But, wait. Forget logic. This is infertility. It’s Wolf I miss the most. That little tease winked at me on 11dpIUI and then disappeared until 14dpIUI. Her pathetic first betas rallied. Her heart started beating when we thought there was no heart to be found. And then she died just when I was starting to believe we could crawl our way out of the pit and into a real, live, pregnancy.

I couldn’t understand why it was her I found myself weeping for. I thought it was because her karyotype came back as "normal" whereas Vivienne’s did not. Did I mourn my perfect baby more than my defective one?

I realized earlier this week why. When I tell you, I’m sure you will wonder how I did not realize it sooner and that my head must surely be so far up my ass, I’m using my ovaries as sun shields. It’s because her death has been overshadowed by so much life, and that daily I am reminded by how dead she is when I read some of my oldest virtual friends’ blogs, who are well on their way through pregnancies.

I love them all so very much that it makes it hurt all the more to feel this anger, this jealousy, this acute sense of loss, over something they deserve not just as much as me, but even more so as I have a healthy son at home. Their pregnancies came on the heels of mine ending. Each pregnancy post reminds me of where I would have been now (30wks). Where I should have been right fucking now!

I didn’t have blogging after I lost Vivienne. I had a friend who was six weeks ahead of me who delivered a healthy girl. She is really my only "comparison" and this friend moved many miles away some time ago so the reminders, still incredibly painful, are sporadic and few. Blogging post-miscarriage is more difficult than the uninitiated could know. My emotions are frozen in the aftermath of November while I watch my internet friends planning for their summer babies.

I’ve emailed a couple of these women privately to let them know. I know this post will upset them to be the subject of my grief-crazed vent, but I just couldn’t hold it inside anymore. It was eating at my heart to harbor these feelings. I wasn’t just shielding them, I was shielding myself thinking that if I just let it go another day, I’ll feel better. But I don’t.

Unfortunately, I doubt that by admitting today that these feelings are so raw I have to brace myself when I read my bloglines, that it will be a cathartic release. That just doesn’t happen for me. Instead, I will go back to putting the emotional turmoil back under a lid for the next 4-6 months to fester.

This post has left me emotionally spent. Each time I proof-read it, my chest tightens up. I had serious reservations about not only publishing it, but to allow comments. I didn’t want to seem as if I was begging for validation, because I’m not. I know that these feelings are valid . . . because they are mine.



  1. You posted it. I felt better after posting mine, but I completely understand why you don’t/won’t. I think this is a wonderful, honest post though and I hope that all of your friends realize that.

    The first miscarriage was the worst for me for exactly the same reason – I had many friends also pregnant about the same time. The living reminder is hard. Very hard.

    Thank you so much for your thoughtful comments on my recent post. It helps to know others have been there.

  2. As you say, this is your blog, so you should feel free to express how you feel. It’s not as if you can control how you view what has happened, and I applaud you for opening up.

    I have nothing else to offer, but I hope posting about it has been cathartic for you.

    I’m sending cheesy internet hugs your way darlin’.

  3. I know you aren’t asking for validation, but is it okay if I just validate you anyway?

    Cause you’re awesome and telling the truth and feeling what you have to feel and reality is that we are all jealous sometimes. It’s natural to feel jealousy, as long as we don’t stay stuck there forever. Maybe you’ll feel it until your due date passes, maybe longer.

    But I don’t think they deserve a successful pregnancy more than you, just because you have a child. We ALL deserve to have a healthy lovely pregnancy. Even us old bags–

    Hugs and kisses my friend

  4. Wish I could just come over and give you a big hug.

  5. Since I’m dealing with my own “issues,” I got nothing but cheesey internet hugs.

  6. That’s my DD. Always honest. Always upfront. One of my favorite qualities.

    In February I received a coupon for a free 1st birthday ice cream cake. Joe couldn’t figure out why this stupid little coupon was upsetting me to the point of tears. He’s saying “Will’s not going to be 1 until July… Why would they send this now?” I wanted to punch him in the balls.

    The babe we lost would have been 1 in March.

    I still miss that baby.

  7. I feel the same way. It’s one thing to be part of the infertility gang, it’s another to be one of the last remaining members. It hurts me that I have these feelings towards the people who have helped me the most, but sadly it is those people’s pregnancies that are the hardest to bear.

  8. Hey DD – you know that I understand, right? It was hard for me to hear about Wolf when things looked good but even harder to hear about it when things didn’t look good. The hardest post I read was the one prior to you seeing the heartbeat and you thought the pregnancy was already doomed. It just brought back so many bad memories for me. To say that I was devastated is not overstating the case. But that also didn’t stop me from not really dealing very well with the later belief that your pregnancy was fine. Don’t know if you wanted this much honesty thrown back at you.
    Take care DD

  9. I’m going to go with the flow here and send you cheesy internet hugs. With a 5 gallon side of margaritas.

    You are not alone in your feelings and your feelings are not wrong. Know that.

  10. I don’t quite know what to say, but I am so sorry and I’ll be thinking of you.

  11. Even if you stopped reading my blog and asked me not to comment on yours until sometime in the Fall, I would totally understand. Out of curiosity, is it harder to read about pregnancies that are second pregnancies coming off of infertility or is any pregnancy just as difficult to read about as the next?

    P.S. I almost have to stop commenting on your blog anyway because that cricket book on the left creeps me out ever since we had our cricket issues in the shower.

  12. I understand how you feel and would never hold your grief against you. I have been there and know that sting too too well. I will be here for you if you need to stop reading my whiney-butt posts and want me to shut up here a while. I really get it and just wish I could help heal this pain. I know no one can do that and I know it never completely goes away. hang in there my friend and know that I’m here if you need me.

  13. I understand how you feel and would never hold your grief against you. I have been there and know that sting too too well. I will be here for you if you need to stop reading my whiney-butt posts and want me to shut up here a while. I really get it and just wish I could help heal this pain. I know no one can do that and I know it never completely goes away. hang in there my friend and know that I’m here if you need me.

  14. I understand how you feel and would never hold your grief against you. I have been there and know that sting too too well. I will be here for you if you need to stop reading my whiney-butt posts and want me to shut up here a while. I really get it and just wish I could help heal this pain. I know no one can do that and I know it never completely goes away. hang in there my friend and know that I’m here if you need me.

  15. I’m so sorry.

    This is definitely one of the more difficult parts of being a member of an infertility community. I’ve thought about this a lot lately, how although we all share so many common experiences and emotions, it ultimately can sadly come down to a really harsh dichotomy: pregnant or not; parent or not. And when you’re on one side, and most of your friends are on the other, it just sucks–especially when their achievements are such terrible reminders of your own tremendous loss. Love to you, sweetie.

  16. DD, it’s okay to feel grief and jealousy. You’ve done something very constructive with both. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Forgive yourself for things not working and for you reacting to that. We would never judge you for feeling this way. We’ve all felt (or do feel) one version or another of it.

  17. I understand.

    I am sorry.

  18. While I can’t claim to understand, since I have not, am not, yet, in your shoes (and may never be), I do respect the fact that you were able to post this with such candor. I also sincerely wish you hugs and margaritas.

  19. Hey DD. Just wanted to say that your feelings are completely valid and more than understandable. As someone who is currently pg after SI, I take absolutely no offense to your post. If we’re honest with ourselves I think we will all admit to having been right where you are at some point or another.


    Donielle 🙂

  20. Big big, BIG hug sent through the ether to you. And some smooches too. I think you’re totally normal to feel some sadness when reading / hearing about people who are as far along as you should have been. I don’t think you should beat yourself up for it at all. xo

  21. You know I decided a long time ago that my blog is my blog. I do it for my free therapy. I let my friends read it because it helps them know where I am. I can’t be ‘careful’ about my posts to make others feel better. It is about me. True friends know my heart.

    Share and be real. It all hurts real bad. Loss is AWFUL! Watching others pass you by while you don’t have yours any more kills.

    After my negative beta, the next morning I went to my car for work. I guess a package got delivered to the wrong house. A package of formula. My second box in a month. Nice reminder.

    HUGS TO YOU! Be your real self. Don’t sugar coat.

  22. Thank you for sharing. I have also had three losses (one at 8w and 2 chemicals) and I feel some of the same pain. For the first one, I was pg at the same time as my younger sister, and for the last two, I was pg (briefly) at the same time as my youngest sister. Now they both have beautiful healthy babies. The reminders are hard, really hard.

    Thanks for being brave enough to express this stuff.

    Big, warm hugs


  23. When I miscarried last year, I had four friends who were due within weeks of when I would have been due. It was damn hard to maintain those friendships. Even now, when I ‘should be’ over it, seeing their babies reach milestones still hurts.

    I applaud your honesty. Life isn’t always pretty, and blogs shouldn’t be either.

  24. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of it.

  25. There is nothing logical about any of this, and which one hurts the most (if we can even go there) is different for everyone, depending on where they are and what baggage goes along.

    Everyone’s grief has a different trajectory. Put it back under wraps, if that’s what you need to make it through. Grieve on your own timetable, not anyone else’s. And avoid those places where life is right there for you to see – it’s just too painful right now, I know.

    For what it’s worth, I’m screaming right alongside you, DD. Screaming until I’m hoarse.

  26. No words, but a big big hug. The rest you know.

  27. My losses were all healthy girls. To this day I will never understand this. Like you I miss one more than the others and also like you it is because of the damn calendar that tells me when things should be celebrated. There is no making sense of any of it..just know that you are not alone in your feelings.

  28. I get it. It was very hard for me to watch all my friends be pregnant with their second when I should have been pregnant with my first set of twins. And then to have year after year go by and not be pregnant (either because of lack of opportunity or because of miscarriage or just not being mentally ready to try again)- its very hard. I’m sorry Wolf isn’t still here. I wish she was.

  29. OK, I won’t validate because you know you don’t need or perhaps even want that. But I will say that despite Barren Mare writing me to say thankyou for me congratulating her on her pregnancy, I found it very hard news to read indeed when it happened at teh same time as our second miscarriage.

    I don’t know if I’m one of the ones who bother you, as I’m just 16 weeks so not really parallel to where you’d be with wolf, but I thought I would let you know that I’ve felt something like this, too. I’m sure most of us have.

    Damn, I said I wasn’t going to validate, and then I did!

  30. thank you then for posting it despite your worries.
    thank you.

  31. I applaud your honesty. Raw pain is important for all of us to see and hear. Too often we pretend that everything is fine when it’s not. Life is messy and fraught with all sorts of reminders about what might have been. Much as I wish I could *only* feel happy for those who cross into mommyland, big life changing experiences like that are not one dimensional. I still can’t help but fight other feelings — envy and jealousy being the leading contenders … as my uncle was said “life is a feeling experience.”

  32. Not that you need my validation, but I completely agree here. For me, I have a harder time with people that just “can’t stop getting pregnant” versus those that have struggled. For some reason, in my blonde head, I think that if we struggle to get something we desire so deeply, then we appeciate it more. I know that ‘s being an ass to say that those who have or never will struggle with fertility don’t appreciate their children as much. Guess I’m just an ass. But I feel that pain.
    I am truly so sorry for your pain, hun. Sending tight hugs & totally platonic sloppy kisses. 😉

  33. I have nothing more to say than big hug. And that I admire your honesty.

  34. I know you don’t need any validations for your feelings, but it may still help to know you’re not alone with them. Oh, so not alone. I’ve had very similar feelings many times before. It’s even difficult for me to see all the kids that were conceived around the time that we’ve started trying. These kids, they can talk now. Some of them have even newer siblings, or siblings on the way.

    There have been a lot of surprise pregnancy announcements in blog land lately. In some ways, I am one of them (even though my surprises ended much, much too soon). For someone with a long history of infertility/miscarriages it can be quite difficult at times to read about them, even if at the same time one is cheering for these pregnanies. I think most of us can relate very well to your feelings.

  35. It definitely doesn’t surprise me, the way that the human psyche processes grief and for how long. I mean, hell, I STILL have jealousy and anger towards a lot of people that went before me, where we were “all in this together”, and I have a live baby. It took forever, but here he is, and I still see pregnant women and want to mow them down with my stroller, for no other reason than for my own selfish grief.

    Except when we’re in babies r us. Then I just want to yell SUCKER!!!

  36. I have never been pregnant, so I don’t know your grief.

    I do realize that you care for other bloggers and it is hard to say such honest things when it might upset them. This post is so honest and brave.


    I’m so sorry for you loss.

  37. I admire you immensely for writing such a difficult post. Such a beautiful display of courage and honesty, I think I’m in love. You give us all a voice in this writing. The anger for being angry is so painful, and I understand such anger all too well. My thoughts are with you during this difficult time. And I thank you for posting all that I am thinking.

  38. Loving you this^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^much today. Smooches.

    Now go throw another coffee over a white coat huh?

  39. Yes, yes, yes.

    I get this so much. Thank you for writing about the things I can’t bring myself to.

  40. DD,

    It is totally OK to be angry. One line in your post really intrigued me:
    “over something they deserve not just as much as me, but even more so as I have a healthy son at home”.

    Do you really think people “deserve” pregnancies? Do you think you “deserve” one any less because you already have one child? So much is beyond our control and this is definitely one thing that is beyond a shadow of a doubt.

    I hope you can find the peace you want.

  41. Many hugs m’dear…I know that if I hadn’t been able to have my daughter so close after I miscarried, each and every time I looked at my niece (who is only 1 month older than my initial child would have been) would have been torture! You have every right to share your feelings! I wish there was something I could do to help ease the pain though…

  42. DD,
    As you told me not to long ago…
    Blogging is for you, not us the readers. Your post was honest and is exactly how I felt when I miscarried.

    The messageboard I belonged to at the time had a woman doing IVF for the first time on the exact same cycle as my IUI. We both got pg. I miscarried, she delievered a beautiful boy. I had to leave that group. I had to, I could not bear to hear all about her milestones and then her little baby.

    Lots of cheesy internet hugs to you.

  43. AMEN. Others have pretty much summed it up and I would just be repeating.

    Thanks for being honest – perhaps I will be honest also in my return to blogging post…

  44. I understand. I wish I could comment more, but all that comes to mine is how much I so understand.

  45. Yes. Yes. Yes.

    Hugs to you, DD.

  46. Elizabeth Edwards echoed this thought (somewhat) in her book in which she explains what it felt like to watch all of her son’s friends getting ready to go to prom or getting ready to leave for college. They would swing by her house or she’s hear other mothers speaking about their children–and it was all a reminder of what she was missing. So she went through that pain again and again and again.

    I hope you will take off the beer hat and the PBR since we have a whole series of microbrews in her (come on, go for the expensive stuff–it’s invisible and therefore free). And send good thoughts your way for this upcoming cycle.

  47. I lost another baby around the same time and at about the same stage as you lost Wolf. I had already joined a pregnancy discussion forum and for a while was very resentful that those women were allowed to go on with their pregnancies while I was not only back at square one, but back at square one with the added burden of another loss. I’m sorry that infertility is so unfair and so illogical.

  48. I’m sorry the path you’re walking right now is painful. Thinking of you…

  49. DD you’ve written so beautifully and honestly about this, thankyou. And I’m so sorry that you have had to experience the inspiration behind the writing. thinking of you and your sad lost ones.

  50. You are in my heart. I should hope that anyone who has dealt with infertility and was then able to carry a child to term understands that the pain other women feel watching/reading about their pregnancy. It’s not about them. I always worried about how my pregnancy with Allison would affect my dearest friend. On the outside she was fully supportive and never mentioned it if she ever got upset. If she had, I would have completely understood.

  51. It has taken me a long time to come back to this because it was really painful for me to read the first time around. Not because I thought you were being at all selfish, but because the emotion is so raw and painful that I couldn’t put my thoughts into words.

    The milestones from other people are intensely painful. I feel the same way. I’ve stopped reading blogs, stopped posting on a message board and it’s in no small part to just not being able to deal with reading about other people’s happiness. It makes me feel small and petty sometimes, but (like you said) they are my feelings and I won’t apologize for them.

    I completely understand what you wrote.

  52. Thank you for posting. Thank you for being true to your emotions. Thank you for being a light.

  53. I’m sorry DD. There are no words.

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