I feel like I’ve let my poor little neglected blog die, it’s
been so long since I’ve written anything for myself, and I have a million
reasons why I haven’t, but the truth is it doesn’t matter, because I haven’t,
and nothing I do today is going to change that.
I feel like I have so many thoughts in my mind that I am
trying to sort out, which I am not good at doing in my head, so I need to
write. I need to bleed out my heart and
soul so maybe; just maybe, I can have some peace again.
In late October, Chris and I experienced our second
miscarriage. I knew it wasn’t going to
be a successful pregnancy, because I just had a feeling. We didn’t go to the doctor, and we had a
miscarriage at home, dealing with all that comes with that.
After this miscarriage, I knew I couldn’t keep teaching in
Brush. I am not going to go into detail
about Brush here on my adventure blog, but there was so much happening in our
school and district that were against my moral compass, and I really struggled
with how much stress I was under, so having that second miscarriage I realized
I couldn’t do it anymore. I resigned. I
didn’t know what I was going to do, but it wasn’t going to be working
there. Leaving Brush was not pretty. Administration retaliated and made life
pretty miserable for me and Chris and I have never felt so betrayed in my life.
But as awful as administration was to me in Brush, I had
never felt better. I was relieved to be
done with that school and district. I
wasn’t sure what was going to happen in our lives, but I hadn’t felt surer of a
decision in my life. In fact, a week
after I was no longer working in Brush, I was offered another job, and I got
pregnant again. We were so excited when
we found out in December that I was pregnant, and I was feeling “normal”
pregnancy symptoms which was such a relief after everything we have been
through in the last year or so with my first miscarriage. What an exciting time for us and what an
amazing year 2015 was going to be.
Because I started a new job, I didn’t have insurance for the
month of January, so while I should have had my first prenatal exam in
mid-January, we had to postpone it until February when I would have insurance
again. I tell you what; February 2nd
could not come soon enough! Chris even
had a countdown going… “only ___ more days until baby day!”
We had an ultrasound appointment first, and I knew as she
kept trying to find an ovary that I was having a dejavu of last year. I could see that there was nothing on the
screen, and when she went to go get the doctor I looked at Chris and we both
knew: a third miscarriage. The doctor
came in, and made her look at the uterus and sac, looking for signs of a molar
pregnancy using simple enough words for me to understand, but now cannot
remember what was said (I only remember that Dr. A grabbed/held my foot and I thought
it extremely strange and slightly awkward, but how do you say hey dude, I know
you’ve been up my junk, but could you please not touch me? That’d be great,
thanks. Yea, you just can’t say it.)
After getting into an exam room, Dr. A said it didn’t look
like another molar pregnancy and everything looked to be pointing to a “normal”
miscarriage and that our best option (after reviewing all the options) would be
for “nature to take its course.” I was
surprised at myself when I was able to speak with such conviction, “that’s what
we did last time, and I’m not willing to do that again, so I want to schedule a
D&C.” I think I took Dr. A by
surprise too, because it took him a minute to respond. He agreed to schedule the D&C the
following Friday but we were going to do a 48 hour blood test and have an
appointment the following Monday to go over everything, have another ultra
sound to make sure nothing had changed, blah, blah, blah, do you want us to call
you with the blood results? {No.}
We’ll call you once we schedule the surgery blah, blah, blah, hang on a second
and…. I was so excited when I saw you were coming in, this is just so sad,
blah, blah, blah.
I looked at Chris, stoic as ever, and grabbed his hand as tears stung the corners of my eyes. Why are
they not letting us leave? I just want to get out of here. He squeezed my hand and smiled; everything is going to be alright.
We finally got out of the office and got blood drawn. Two days later, another draw. Thursday, I got
a call from a number I didn’t recognize, and I was compelled to answer. “Hi Tiffany, this is Kathleen, Dr. A would
like to speak with you, do you have a minute?” “uh, yeah.” “okay, here he is…
Hi Tiffany, it’s Dr. A, so we have a problem with your blood results… blah blah
blah, I don’t feel comfortable waiting
to do your d&c, we need to do it now…” My head started spinning. This was
not the same Dr. A from Monday who thought everything was fine. This was the urgent Dr. A from last year when
we found out about the molar pregnancy. Tears started streaming down my face
and I grabbed my stuff and ran, locking myself in my classroom. I can’t
do this again. I called Chris, unable to get out very many intelligible
words.
Friday was a blur of more appointments and more blood draws
and more questions to answer. The only thing I remember was in my appointment
with Dr. A on Friday, he looked at me and said “You are such a remarkable
woman; I feel privileged to be your doctor.”
I think I remember it, because it is the first time someone has ever
called me a woman without young in
front of it, and I was slightly offended and felt kind of old.
I am so overwhelmed.
For some reason this time has been harder than before. I have spent my entire commute some mornings
bawling because of how unfair I feel this situation is. Why did Heavenly Father let the girl who was
visibly about 7-8 months pregnant I saw smoking a joint outside of Taco Johns
get to have a baby and I can’t? Why do people who can’t even take care of
themselves let alone a baby get to have one?
Why… Why… why!!??!!?? I have so
many questions and no answers. Why were
my numbers so high? Why was there such urgency in Dr. A’s voice on that phone
call? Emotionally I have been a wreck, and last time, I remember feeling so
much better and clearer and happy in every way, but this time I still do not
feel like myself. I feel… heavy, I guess is the best way to describe it.
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