word up yo

I have been dreading writing about this because I haven’t got my head fully wrapped around it yet, so please bear with me and as always, any words of advice and/or comfort that you can offer would be greatly appreciated.

Shortly after my parents died, I was somewhat desperate to help my sister find a psychologist to help her with her grief and in the process contacted a doctor that I saw for a while leading up to and after my divorce from my first husband.

I still feel bamboozled by her receptionist when she asked me “what about you?”. To which, I of course replied, “what do you mean, ‘what about me’?”.

Before I knew it I was seeing the good doctor again once a week for almost a year, half a dozen times leading up to Lucas’ arrival and it’s now been eight months since my last appointment.

I need her again.

I am a big proponent of therapy. I believe working with a professional can help provide insight, support and new strategies for all types of life challenges. In the past it has helped me immensely and I am lucky to have a doctor that I trust and respect. Dr. K. is a family therapist and specializes in family and marital counseling, stress management and grief.

Since spring, I haven’t been myself and it’s time to do something about it.

I’m moodier than usual, short tempered, forgetful, disheveled, anxious and confused. I sound like a toddler, huh?

Depression is a real illness and while I have never been clinically diagnosed as “depressed”, I have a laundry list of reasons for why I might be. It could be because it’s October now, which is a hard month for being the anniversary of my parents deaths, if I’m, as I’ve shared before, still getting used to my (not so) new role of mother, if I’m struggling with my summer miscarriage, or more than likely a combination of all three and a bunch of other junk too. Whatever IT is, I don’t like feeling this way and I am anxious to get back in treatment.

I’m no good at “faking it” or keeping my feelings at bay. They come out in the strangest ways and don’t want my negativity to ever affect Lucas. Not to mention, I have too much goodness in my life to feel this way.

My first appointment is next week and I have two additional appointments after that. From time to time, when appropriate I’ll update you. In the meantime, your good thoughts are welcome. Let the self discovery and growth begin.

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This post was written for the word game, Word Up, Yo!hosted by the self proclaimed Nerd Mafia: Natalie (Mommy of a Monster), Kristin (Taming Insanity) and Liz (a belle, a bean and a chicago dog).

If you like words too, play along!
This week’s word is bamboozled.

I can’t sleep.

I have too much on my mind.

I write this with a lump in my throat.

The day before Lucas’ birthday, I took a pregnancy test and it came out positive. We had only been “trying” for two weeks! Can you say fertile? Stranger things have happened…

Learning you’re pregnant the first time is one of the most exciting moments in a woman’s life. Not only is it a major milestone on the path of adulthood, it is one of the most joyous experiences you will ever have. I will never forget the day I found out I was pregnant with Lucas. I cried tears of happiness, excitement and fear.

Learning I was pregnant a second time was a little more shocking for me. I had just gotten back to my pre-pregnancy weight and into my favorite jeans. The hair around my face was starting to grow back and I was FINALLY starting to get the hang of this “mommy thing”. The tears this time were out of pure disbelief. I was excited for sure, but also troubled by how our perfect little family of three was going to change drastically. I was mostly concerned with how this new addition would affect Lucas and how I might handle two under two. Doing the quick calculations, Lucas and his sibling would be almost 21 months apart.

I thought I was nine weeks along at my first OB/GYN visit when an ultrasound revealed that I was only measuring at six weeks. We were told we could have our dates off.

I’m pretty good (obsessive) with dates and knew deep down inside that something was terribly wrong.

Blood work was ordered to check my hCG (the pregnancy hormone) levels and more ultrasounds a week later. Unfortunately, my hCG levels dropped and we learned last Thursday that there had been no growth to the embryo since week six.

I had a terrific pregnancy with Lucas, (you can read all about my experience here) so why would I think anything would or could go wrong with this one? I certainly felt pregnant. I’ve been tired and famished and snarky.

But, in the end, my gut was right. There was something wrong and this pregnancy wasn’t meant to be.

Of course, we’ll never know exactly what went wrong (see #3 of my Friday Flip Offs for how I feel about that).

I never wanted to be a part of this group… a woman who has suffered a miscarriage and also a mother who is already blessed with the knowledge of the beautiful outcome of a full term pregnancy.

But here I am, a reluctant member with so many questions and so much sadness. Why did this happen to us? What went wrong? Did I do something different this time around? Will it happen again?
I know that miscarriage is far more common than we like to think and often times there are no answers. I’ll have to accept that. Eventually.

All I know right now is that this hurts, I’m sad and because I don’t want to wait around for my body to have a natural miscarriage, I have a D and C (a procedure to scrape and collect the tissue from inside the uterus) scheduled for this afternoon.

Please keep me and all of the women that have ever had to go through this in your thoughts… if just for today. Thank you. xoxo

This post was written for the word game, Word Up, Yo!hosted by Natalie (Mommy of a Monster), Kristin (Taming Insanity) and Liz (a belle, a bean and a chicago dog).

If you like words too, play along!
This week’s word is snarky.

In Treatment

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