Emotional Whirlwind

Yesterday was a total whirlwind of emotions. It started with scared--seeing a giant glob of blood next to Momo and not knowing what was going on freaked me out. Then I became obsessed with finding answers--looking to Dr. Google for what this blood clot with the worst name EVER actually is. I didn't quit understand the hematoma and thought maybe it was happening because there is something wrong with the embryo. My doc said something about nature taking its course if the embryo is bad, and I was trying to make sense of that. Was this nature taking its course? Then I got really angry--why is this happening? These things happen in less than 3% of pregnancies, and after all this I just happen to be one of them? SERIOUSLY? I blamed myself thinking maybe I did this by going for a long walk two weeks ago. I was angry with the Seattle clinic for being so nonchalant about bed rest and encouraging activity after an FET. I was angry that Momo might not be getting the nutrients he needs because the blob of blood is in the way.  I was angry that it seemed like my body was sabotaging me, yet again. I was angry that we saw a heartbeat and felt nothing but fear. Then I was sad. Just plain sad to the core of my being.

Noah came home last night tired. He brought home food and said, "I thought hearing our baby's heartbeat would be the best day of our lives." I felt sad that we've been robbed of the joy this experience is "supposed" to bring. As much as I tried to just focus on the positives--that we heard a heartbeat, I couldn't. My truth is that I'm scared. I'm not pessimistic, just scared.

Through our years on IF Island we've been in this emotional whirlwind before. Feelings spin so quickly they make you sick. Things happen that we never fathomed could happen, and half the time you don't understand what's going on. You cry until your eyeball sockets hurt and your brain feels like it's throbbing in your head, and then you have to make a decision. Am I going to be overwhelmed by my feelings, or am I going to regain some control? I wavered for much of the day. I had moments where I felt like if this pregnancy isn't going to be viable, just put me out of my misery already. Followed by moments of feeling so sure that Momo wants to be our baby, is meant to be our baby, no blood monster is going to get in our way and Momo and I are going to fight this thing to its blood-clotty death! As I wavered between feelings of regret and anger and fear and determination and hope I tried to find a moment of stillness. I imagined myself still, bare feet in a cold rushing river. How can I make my mind and my emotional self just still? At least for a moment. 

In my moment of stillness I decided this is another lesson in learning to be ok with uncertainty. I cannot look back at what may or may not have happened and I cannot look forward to what might happen. I can just be still. Physically and emotionally. I can try to imagine the blood monster (I kind of want to name it Kurtis, I don't know why) shriveling up and dying--absorbing into my body and falling out. Ugh, how gross. And I can picture Momo, our little fighter. The legend of Momotaro is that he was born out of a peach, (Momo actually means peach) and he went on to battle villains and ogres that were terrorizing his family's village, and in the end saved the town. Noah speaks to Momo every night. He puts his scruffy face to my belly, identifies himself, "Momo, this is your dad," and then instructs Momo to keep hanging on. No matter what ogre or villain or blood monster is trying to attack you--just hold on! To bad Momo is the size of an orange seed and doesn't have legs to kick this things ass!

My dad wrote me an email this morning. It read:

Last night I had a dream that you were on something like an island. Mom and I were looking for you. We came to a wall, and I heard the slight distant cry of a baby behind it.  We started to break down the wall, got a hole in it, and came to a wooden fence.  We started to take that apart.  And then we saw you, holding your baby, coming out of a room. Didn't feel like an island then.  You looked at us but didn't smile in relief. You were just so tired and concerned about staying alive. I don't know where you got food to eat, but the baby was only surviving thru you and it was big enough that it looked like it should be on some solid foods.  

 

So, what does it mean?  That we would break thru all barriers to get to you?  That you can survive conditions that would normally undermine anyone else?

 Perhaps surviving the blood monster is my first test of parenthood. Perhaps I have to learn to break through the emotional barriers of fear and the physical barriers of my own body threatening our little bean. Perhaps there are a lot of red flags and warning signs for me, and I have to choose to see nothing but Momo. Beating at 109 beats per minute. Not because I'm an ignorant fool, but because it doesn't serve me at all to focus on the red flags. 

 

I know this pregnancy will either work, or it wont. Wow, that's the first time I acknowledged that I'm...and I actually wrote the P word. I hate the sentence it's in. I know that much of it is out of my hands. I know that if something is wrong with the embryo, nature will most likely take its course and I have to come to terms with that. I know that I have to be still and present and open to whatever is. I also know that I have 12 episodes of Master Chef that can get me through the day. And I have so many incredibly supportive fellow IF Islanders! Thank you all so much for posting your stories and sharing information. Thank you all so much!

Comments

[Don't Count Your Eggs]

Hi Courtney--Thanks for reading!

[Cortney]

This is just NOT FAIR! For you to come so far and then have all this stress in the beginning of your pregnancy...arghhh, I am feeling for you!

[Erin]

I haven't checked in on your blog in quite awhile, but something prompted me to just the other day. I had tears in my eyes when I saw that you were at 18 weeks. Truly amazing and so deserving for you and Noah. I was so intrigued, I've been trying to catch up on the most recent journey of yours. After three unexplained miscarriages, I now have a 16 month old son. This post struck me b/c after getting pregnant for the fourth time (the successful one), I remember that I visualized "poppy" as a tiny thing in my uterus, like the collesium, surrounded by gladiators trying to protect him/her. Like your story of Momotaro, it's whatever we can do to keep ourselves peaceful, the anxiety and worry at bay, and imagine him/her safe and protected!! I can't wait to read this rest of this journey....

[Don't Count Your Eggs]

Kelly-- Good luck on your retrieval tomorrow and thanks for such a nice comment. Jamie and JCS--thank you! I'm hanging in there! Time is moving sooo slowly.

[Kelly]

Like so many others I am so deeply moved by you and your journey. I saw there was a new post and had to scroll down to the bottom immediately to see if Momo was still there and yes he is!! Your writing is inspiring , seriously this journey may have uncovered a gift. You must write a book.. You make me feel I am right there with you. You comfort me
on my own journey of uncertainty. ( I'm on round 2 of IVF, low responder 3 follies, retrieval mon) I feel like a beginner compared to your journey. You feel like a friend I have never met.
I just want to say you deserve this more than anyone.. You are in my thoughts and prayers everyday.. How you have navigated yourself through this savage and wild island is awe inspiring . Good luck , this week. You are a goddess and a warrior.xx

[Jamie]

Thinking of you and sending positive thoughts to you, Noah and Momo.

[JCS]

Maya, I think of you and check in on your blog everyday. Wishing so hard that this all works out for you. I am hopeful it will. Hang in there!

[Don't Count Your Eggs]

Thank you my internet family! Junie, I just read your letter to Momo. He really liked it. He's going to try to be stronger tomorrow but he's been seriously complaining about his gross stanky blobby neighbor. Poor Momo. Thanks Samantha-- if I rested any more I'd be comatose! Lindsay M- thanks for commenting, it means a lot. It all does seriously suck. Jojo-- my light of positivity! Thank you as always. Jill--My dad is sweet. My parents came over today and dad went to Costco to by me more toilet paper. Ahh parental love. Thanks A Few Good Eggs! I keep trying to comment on your blog but I don't think it's been working. Your baby to be has the cutest little feet ever! So happy for you and hope Momo is skipping right along side your baby. Best of luck. Lindsay--you're right. A list of warnings or a "hey, we know you went through hell just to get here but please know there can be a LOT more crap to wade through," sign would be helpful. For so many of us just getting P is such a huge victory, we don't even think about ALL the insanity that might follow. Christina and Phaira--thank you. Hoping for peace and taking it one breath at a time. ;) Thanks Team Momo! If Momo makes it he will have to personally write everyone a thank you card.

[Junie]

Dear Momo,
We all love you. You're not alone. You've gotten more amazing and more miraculous everyday. Just keep being yourself. Mom and dad love you so very much. You were so strong today. We all want you to be stronger tomorrow.
Love,
People of the Internet

[Samantha]

Momo is a fighter, just like Mama. Breathe, the two of you will get through this together. Rest, nutrition and hydration.

[Lindsay Monnier]

Maya, I've been holding off writing a comment since your transfer. I get on here everyday to see where you, Noah, and Momo are at in this new journey. Everyday I cry and laugh when I read your blog. I admire your sense of humor and your honesty in your feelings. I've been scared right along with you, because infertility sucks-but infertility AND miscarriage/stillbirth is horrible. I want this so badly for you and your family! I want this to be your ticket off the island and want to follow your journey into pure bliss and happiness. I think about you everyday and pray that this little baby is meant for you and is going to battle its way into your arms. Still praying.

[Jojo]

Your husband, your family and You are amazing. You have done something for this horrible club no one else has done. You and Noah will be the absolute best parents ever. I know Momo will fight through all this drama and you will have your beautiful family of 3. Xoxo

[Jill B @ hopinghopefloats.blogspot.com]

Your dad's words brought tears to my eyes. Keep hanging on.

[A Few Good Eggs]

Hang in there, Maya. Enjoy Master Chef... we are all thinking of you and Momo and Noah.

[Lindsay]

Ugh, damn it. I wish that there was more of a warning from docs who deal in IVF every day - CAUTION! You will VERY LIKELY experience bleeding after getting your BFP!!! I know they don't want to raise unnecessary red flags, but SO many women who get pregnant through IVF get these hematomas that a head's up might be kinda nice.

I had one of these, too. Back in early April when I was around week 7, only two days after I saw my peanut's heart beating away for the first time, I went to the bathroom and saw bright red blood. I ran in for an ultrasound the very next day and she was still there, jumping away without a care in the world with the SCH right next to her. The doctor acted like it was not at all a big deal and so completely common that my jaw dropped - shouldn't IVF patients be more aware of the likelihood that this could happen?

In my case, the SCH did end up resolving on its own in the weeks thereafter so know that this problem can take care of itself. It's just completely unfair to have this happen after EVERYTHING you've already gone through! I am so sorry. Sometimes "this sucks" really just sums it up. And if anyone deserves to celebrate after seeing a heartbeat, God knows its you and Noah.

Relax your body and your mind. Have faith in Momo. I'm praying for you.

[Christiana]

Hold On. Praying for grace and peace for everybody.

[phaira]

Sometimes there are no words...sometimes all any of us can do is just breathe.
Just breathe Maya...I am just breathing right along with you. xo