Wednesday, November 30, 2011

What they don't tell you...

All-in-all, for someone having a miscarriage I've been pretty functional at work.  If I could work 24-7, I'd be just peachy.  I've only banged my head against the desk because the pain got so intense a few times today. I only teared up for a little bit after I helped a student get proof of enrollment so her new baby could qualify for TennCare.  I should probably volunteer to restock the community ibuprofen and tylenol bottles myself, but it's not like I get an employee discount they can lump it.

They tell you to expect a heavier and more painful bleed.  You say, "But I already have endometriosis, can it really get worse?'  They say, "It is definitely worse."  I haven't even started yet, and I've been taking 1000mg Ibuprofen staggered with Extra Strength Tylenol in-between every two hours, and I'm still rocked off my feet with cramps.  My back my thighs and of course my abdomen. When I'm not cramping I feel bruised from the belly button down like I've been kicked in the uterus.  I don't think this is headed anywhere I really want to go but what choice do I have?

They tell you because you had a pregnancy you need to give yourself at least one "unmedicated" cycle in-between because your hormones are going to be out of whack for several weeks.

When people say, "Well, at least you know you can get pregnant!" They probably don't know that it took you over $50,000 (thank God for the little insurance we do have) one major and two minor surgeries, over 160 needle-sticks not counting acupuncture, 8 months of fertility treatments including 2 IVF cycles, and a priceless amount of heart ache.  So, no, I'm really not too convinced that I can "get pregnant."

They don't tell you how heart-breaking and cruel it is to go from "It's positive," and two hours later tell you, "It's not viable."

They don't tell you how much self-loathing you'll feel in the sense that you couldn't even keep your own baby alive.  You flashback to your adolescence.  You were never pretty enough, thin enough, talented enough, good enough, smart enough, funny enough, or tough enough.  You look in the mirror and you realize your teenage self was exactly right, so why would you think you'd ever be good enough to be somebody's mother?

They don't tell you what to say when people tell you, "Well don't you think it's just not meant to be?" and "Maybe God has other plans for you."

They don't tell you how much it really hurts when your heart is broken.

They don't tell you if you'll ever be brave enough to try again.

They don't tell you how long you'll feel like this.

They don't tell you what the right thing to do is.

And they can't tell you why this is happening. Nobody can.

Peace, Love, and that is all I have,
Mary Katherine


  1. They don't tell you that people will say foolish things because those people don't really know what to say, yet feel compelled to say SOMEthing. And that some of us just say nothing because we don't have words. But I love you, and my heart is hurting for you. Paige

  2. MK, you know my heart just screams for you and I am crying right beside you. Please please please ask your doctor for the good pain meds. Ibuprofen isn't going to cut it, and you don't need to feel all of this physical pain on top of the emotional. HUGS and lots of love. -Amy

  3. I'm a friend of Amy's and have been through multiple miscarriage & surgery. I'm praying for you, MK. This SUCKS, it isn't fair, and I'm screaming with you. Know you are not alone!