Stages of Grief part...who knows what...

It's been an interesting week. I use the word interesting when I'm not sure what other word to use. After the D&C last Wednesday, I was kind of in go mode. And slight shock. Momo had her play groups and I worked and life as usual resumed. There were moments of feeling sad or angry or whatever came up that happened in spurts-- five minute bursts of feelings when I was alone in the car driving to the market or the quiet before falling asleep where my heart felt like it was going to explode. By the weekend I felt like my feelings were getting trapped, and this is what I see often in my work as a therapist supporting people going through IF and pregnancy loss. The sad can get kind of trapped in the body because it doesn't know where to go. I help people work through this stuff all the time, and it is a pretty individual experience, but I wasn't quite sure what I needed for myself. I was up all night Saturday with chest pains. It was a tight feeling, like I was wearing a compression stocking over my heart and lungs. I couldn't take a deep breath no matter how hard I tried. I was convinced I just needed a good cry but hadn't found the time for it. Or the desire. I knew I was sad but cognitively I understand this stuff. Sometimes the heart needs a moment to catch up with the head.

So I struggled to breathe for the rest of the weekend and allowed myself to notice my process. Was it anxiety? Trapped sadness? Physical and emotional shock? Acid reflux? I knew it would pass and it did. Monday was a holiday and my parents came over to be with Momo, allowing Noah and I a little space to be with each other. I felt agitated and hormonal-- some might say angry. Then it dawned on me that duh, I'm going through the stages of grief-- again-- in a different way. I've grieved the death of loved ones and the death of embryos and what could have been in an IVF cycle, but this was my first pregnancy loss.

The shock/denial came and went. Did this really just happen? Yes. It did. Cue literal heartache and trouble breathing.  Then I was agitated and angry. Just pissed off. Noah said my energy was intense when I entered a room. I kind of wished I could have gotten into a bar fight-- but probably should have gone for a run or something. We went for lunch together Monday and between being served something with cilantro on it when I specifically asked for none and a hair in my food I was livid. CAN'T ANYTHING GO MY WAY??!! It wasn't about the cilantro. Obviously. Then came Tuesday-- bargaining.  I spent that day feeling really mad at myself that I didn't see my RE when I found out I was P. Why did I go to my nonchalant OB? My RE would have put me on baby aspirin and progesterone, even if I didn't need it. He would have monitored me closer. Then I would have felt like I did everything I could have. I know it likely wouldn't have mattered. I know that if I saw no heartbeat at my RE's office I would have felt like I jinxed our situation by going back to the office where I had so much bad news. Bargaining is a no win situation. It's our own attempts to renegotiate a situation thinking we could have controlled the outcome in some way. If only I.... I recognized I was doing this immediately and even though I felt so strongly that if only I had seen my RE my outcome would have been different, I knew deep down it wouldn't have been. So I let that thought come and I acknowledged how badly I wish I did have control over the situation, and then I let it go. Then I started throwing up. I started to feel sick Tuesday night. And just like I've done many times before, I barfed my feelings. I'm laughing about it right now. I'm an emotional bulimic. I tried to search past posts but don't have the time to find the other times I barfed after getting bad news (Thanksgiving 2012 or 2013?) or when I was so anxious about something...luckily it doesn't happen too often but when it does...

So I threw up all Tuesday night-- was it emotions? Noro virus? Bad food? All of the above? And yesterday I felt sad and run down. This is the stage of depression but I don't feel I need to linger here for too long, not because there is anything wrong with lingering if needed but because I feel like I don't need to. I am so lucky to have Momo and feel like being present with her can allow me to visit this lovely stage of grief for a brief moment and then move on. I'll revisit the sad every so often, whenever I need to really. That seems to make more sense to me this time, where other times of sad I felt like I need to really sink my teeth into it and stay a while. I have too much to be grateful for with her. When my parents were over she was running between all of us yelling, "Momo (but she said her actual name) Happy! Momo Happy!" How can I be sad? 

So that leaves me with the last stage--acceptance. The feeling of understanding this sad experience happened and I wish it didn't but it's part of my emotional landscape and can allow me to connect and understand others and my clients in a more profound way and that's that. I don't need to make perfect sense or find silver linings. I just need to remember I'm ok, and I am. That's what I'm going to work on for the rest of the week.

I see the doctor today for my week follow up. That will be my closure. I went through these stages of grief fairly quickly but maybe past practice has increased my speed. Or maybe I'll need to touch base with some of this stuff at another time.  The best thing I can do for myself, which I've already started to do, is get my team together. My group of women who have taken care of me through the years when things fall apart. My acupuncturist, my facial guru women-- I can't describe her, she rubs my face and tells me everything is going to be ok and I believe her deep in my pores, my massage lady, my chiropractor, my mom, my girlfriends-- everyone needs a team of people who huddle around you when your wounded to give you energy and love. I thank all of you here on this blog-- my cyber team of warriors-- for all your love and support. 

Comments

[LittleOlli]

Hi Maya, I have been following your blog throughout our own infertility struggle in the past years. Even though I never left a comment, I have got so such strength and comfort from your blog. Reading your recent pregnancy and loss makes me feel I ought to send you a note and hugs, and want to share with you briefly our story. The last summer, we finally came out of the IF island: we had our precious baby boy via a surrogate, after 4 heart wrenching years, 4 IUIs, 2 OE IVFs, 2 DE IVFs, another 3 embryo banking mini-IVFs, 3 biochemical pregnancies, 3 clinics in 2 continents and 1 wonderful surrogate. We beat the (sometimes wrong) diagnosis of diminish ovarian reserve, poor egg quality, poor response, polyps and (suspected) blood-clotting issues. Our journey was long, complex and rather unconventional, even among the IFers. If people like us with odds stacking against can survive, the vast majority of IFers can survive if persist.

Same as you, we still have one embryo left from my three embryo banking cycles, but are yet to decide what next. My husband and I are very content with our life with our bundle of joy and we are all but certain about moving on with our lives with the only child. I really do not even want to imagine we have to go through another grueling (and super expensive) round of surrogacy, while we don't even know if the lone embryo will survive the thaw. But deep in my heart, I feel guilty towards the remaining embryo - it deserves a chance to be become a little person just like his brother, and I feel guilty towards my son, who deserves a sibling. For what you have been through, I applaud for your courage and strength for going for a sibling for Momo, and I hope the best for you and your family.

[Lindsay]

Oh Maya. I just caught up with this post and your previous one. I have been sporadically checking in to see where you were in terms of going back for Momo's sibling ... a decision I figured you'd visit at some point. To read about your unexpected and enthralling pregnancy and loss just made me ... numb, for lack of a better word. Numb as in not being able to wrap my mind around why bad things happen to good people. One of those instances that make you want to scream WTF?! I think asking all the what ifs is a natural part of your healing process, so don't begrudge yourself for that and mourning the loss of your baby while you're lucky enough to have Momo. It simply sucks. Sending you hugs from the East Coast.

[Deb]

I find myself checking for your next post. I want to see how you, as a therapist, are working through this loss. Almost as a way of processing my own losses once more.

I hope you're doing well, are allowing yourself to feel deep rage (might I suggest kickboxing?), and also joy and hope.

[Heather]

Sometimes I feel like I'm in the bargaining stage for entirely too long. The "if I only" can be debilitating...the way you worked through that stage in particular was inspiring to me. And the circle of support is so critical - let the circle take care of you for as long as you need! Sending lots of positive vibes your way.

[Claire]

Remember to allow yourself to grieve, and not feel guilty in doing so in the loss of your baby because you have Momo. I know what you mean, having another child to focus on and relish in her miracle, is very helpful and a distraction. But sometimes I feel us IF gals who do eventually find a way to parenthood, are the quickest to sell ourselves short in times of loss and need, because we still feel the guilt of having had a child when others we know do not yet. Or like if we grieve the death of a baby, it means we don't appreciate a live child. I think you're doing great, but just want to be sure you take good care of yourself following this great surprise, celebration, and sad loss. I'm so sorry to hear what has happened - big hugs.

[Rese]

I also "barf" my feelings! When we first started down the road of infertility and found out my AMH was 0.2, I threw up for three days straight. Squeeze your kiddo a little tighter, they help pull you through the process so much quicker.

[Jojo]

Readimg about Momo yelling she is happy made me so happy. That to me is joy personified and I am glad you have her to carry you across the dark and lead you through the grief. Having my miracle toddler during my losses made the grieving much quicker. Not only do you stare at a miracle everyday but they don't give you much time to wallow. My son, too young to know what was happening when I would cry would just kiss me and say 'mommy all better' over and over until I stopped crying. Such a gorgeous gift in that pain.

[Molly]

I miscarriage shortly after Christmas with my last frozen embryo. It gets easier everyday. Feel your feelings and keep believing in life's miracles.

[Pamela O]

I've gotten pretty talented at getting through the stages of grief pretty quickly myself. (Venting on my blog helps me when I'm at the lowest. Just "barfing" it all out.) Not a club I particularly wanted to belong to, but hey. Everyone's life is different, and everyone's life involves loss or never-got. The only thing we can do is live as well as we can with that. And with all the exquisite gifts around us, which deserve notice, too.

[Deb]

Would it make you feel better if I suggested your RE wouldn't have seen you anyway because it wasn't an ART pregnancy?

Also, we were all barfing this weekend too thanks to a norovirous. I hope in a way it was just your feelings because if not it's highly contagious and dealing with a puking toddler is no joke!