Monday, May 7, 2012

So That I Might Sleep

I will ramble and ramble, and perhaps, if I'm lucky,  I will fall onto my pillow before 4 AM.

7 days ago, all was well with the world (that's a lie.. all was not well.. but for the sake of this ramble, we will stick to the standard terminology)  and my husband and I were expecting baby #4.

6 days ago, it all came crashing down, and we were no longer expecting baby #4.
Except that we kind of were...  we were waiting for my body to deliver our teeny little baby that didn't live beyond 10 weeks.

So we discovered that our baby's heart stopped beating.  And it was a sad, and awful day.

But, the days to follow were even more terrible.  I had to wait. I had to WAIT!   I knew that this baby was no longer alive, but it was STILL inside my body... and all I could do was WAIT!

And the waiting sucked!

My doctor did not give me the gritty details of  a missed-miscarriage.  She gave me the "if you want a D & C we can schedule that; if not, we can wait til the end of the week to see if your body will do it naturally."

"What will it be like if I have it naturally?"

"At the most, about 6 hours of bleeding... and cramping...."

Hmmmm.  Ok.

So, I started bleeding.  And "cramping".  (READ: Contracting!!!)
For 3 days.

And. It. SUCKED!!

And finally, it happened.  I went into "Labor" and my body tried to KILL me with pain as it worked hard to deliver every ounce of blood from my body... the baby.

*******do not read beyond this point if you have a weak stomach... turn back now**********

I labored in the bathtub for over an hour.... nothing happened.... went back to the shower a little bit later, because suddenly,  EVERYTHING started to happen.   spent 45 minutes bleeding, and passing tissue and clots, and finally... a little bitty, tiny, tiny,  minature baby.

After it all finished, I felt RELIEVED.   Ahhhh.  I can mourn, and move on.  Good.
Thank You, Jesus.

And then no.

It was NOT GOOD.

I continued to contract (and agonize) for several. MORE. HOURS!

And then the next day, I was in a fog.
And the day after that, I was kind of ok, but sporatically miserably sad.

And I was still bleeding.  And still contracting here and there.  And still hurting.

So far, this ramble has done nothing for my insomnia.

Here's the deal.  I UNDERSTAND and comprehend the reality of miscarriage.   I really do.
I'm not questioning God, or mad at myself, or anything.
I'm. Just. Sad.

Don't get me wrong here... there's WAY more to this story than a quick ramble could tell.
My heart is truly filled with thankfulness;  And I'm over and over again humbled at how perfectly God took care of me specifically during the past week.   I'm content with our situation (or as content as I could be?)  But I'm also, just plain and simple, really sad, too.

I don't want anyone asking me if I'm "okay".  I don't want phone calls.   I don't want sympathy.

"Just checking to see how you're doing....."
Well?!  I don't KNOW how I'm doing.

*In one moment I'm staring off into space while crickets chirp in the empty thoughts that I'm (NOT) having.

*In another, I'm mourning internally.  Sometimes externally.

*And in another, I'm gut-laughing about something stupidly random that my friend did.

*And in another.....  I forget that I'm sad, and I'm just... regular.

*In other moments, I'm humbled by God's plan- I'm in deep thought about the intricate details that He had been planning during the last year of my life.  Really- I guess that's mostly where I'm at.  The other's are my vacation house- and this one here- it's my residence.  My thoughts are continuously toward God.
(not what you wanted to hear.. but it's the truth, people.   and man.  I'm so glad it's the truth.)

So if you're wondering how I'm doing, pick one of the options above that makes you feel the most comfortable, and THAT is how I'm doing today.

At the end of the week, when I visited my doctor, I put in a super-spiritual request for some ANTI-depressants.  Yes.  Oh, yes I did!   I know myself.  I know how easy I can fall into depression.  I'm not screwing around.  I want the drugs, and I want them IMMEDIATELY.  I want that fake seratonin, and I want it in high doses.

(Because I'm a nerd, I'll also want to be NOT on drugs as quickly as possible.  Physically, I would just rather NOT depend on them.  I'll switch to Sam-e after a few months.)

But for now- this chick is MED-uh-CATED.  (Unfortunately, it takes a few weeks for it to take full effect.  THis is only day 2.  RATS!)

 I also have been taking an all-natural calming-remedy.  It has LOTS of Valerian root in it.  And Passion Flower.  And other nice things that are suppose to make you c-h-i-l-l.

I've taken 2 of those today.  And maybe their working?  One of those pills alone would typically send me into TKO at snoozerville, but I reckon this is a special occassion, and it's better to use them for chill-mode rather than sleep-mode.

 (And even though rambling time has still not emptied my brain enough to lead me to close this computer and stagger upstairs, I can guarantee you RIGHT NOW this chick ain't asking for no sleeping pills.)

I'm good with taking my "seratonin" pill and hoping for "functionability", but Lord help me if I have to take a sleeping pill.  

That was a YAWN.  I just yawned.  Thank You rambler.

Ya.  But I'm still too scared to go to sleep.  THERE>  I said it.  That's what the problem is.
I'm still bleeding.  And it still periodically hurts.
I'm afraid of passing clots in my sleep.... maybe the truth is coming out... maybe I'm actually afraid of hemorraging.

Which is what happened to my sister after she delivered her full-term-perfectly healthy baby.
She was fine.
And then she wasn't.

I'm not afraid of death, or dying.  I'm afraid of how my death would affect my daughters.  And my husband... no... well, ya... my daughters and my husband.  Cause, if he's sad, they'll be EVEN sadder.  So I should totally be concerned about him, too.

   Selfish Amber would say "Whoo HOO.  Rock on the hemmorage.  I'm goin' to HEAVEN to-NIGHT, baby!"  But Mommy Amber jumps ahead of the other me, and says "No!  You can't leave your children alone with their Daddy!!  They'll go to school wearing sack-cloths and combat boots."  (and other such emotionally damaging stuff ...)

SO I reckon my ramble got it all out.  I'm afraid of sleep, and that is why I'm not sleeping.
Dude.  I wish I could charge myself $250 an hour.  I just totally psycho-analyzed myself.  I should be getting paid for this kind of awesomeness.

Now?   What to do with this information?
Do I publish my rambling?
Do I let the entire world (I mean 2 people) read everything that I just wrote?
Do I expose myself in my deepest, most inner-emotionally raw .....  something or other....

Why not.

(If you read this- PLEASE click on the little box below that said "Read It".  I'm just curious as to if anyone ever reads these things....  DON'T worry.  It won't show your name, or make you sign up for anything.  SO if you're a stalker, I won't know who you are.)

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