Incompetent cervix. It turns out my feelings of inadequacy were not entirely unfounded. I wrote that as a joke but the truth is I kind of secretly think that maybe the impostor complex that’s always plagued me was a misinterpreted sign. (Not that I believe in signs)
Tom and I went to the new doctor the week before we left for Europe. I guess that’s another reason I didn’t write before we left. The news was overwhelming. On one hand, it’s a huge relief to know that I didn’t cause the pre-term labor. The nagging feeling that Tommy Jr came early because I’m bad doesn’t have anymore fuel. Incompetent is different than bad. To be honest, our doctor called it something a little nicer- cervical inadequacy or something. That doesn’t sound much better really.
Incompetent, inadequate…isn’t the fear of those things what keeps girls from raising their hands in math and science class? I mean other than being told I have a fat cervix, there couldn’t be two words that would be more hilariously pathetically upsetting to hear used to describe a part of you. And reading about my incompetent cervix was like getting a punch in the face of proof that I failed as a women. A failure punch.
I wish I felt more hopeful having an explanation. Because I already won the shitty-lottery I don’t feel safe thinking “the chances are good that next time the doctors will know…” and blah blah bullshit. I’m f*cking scared. I know I want to get pregnant again, but I just can’t imagine when I’ll have the guts to go through it again. I can’t imagine a time where my heart has healed enough to let me take another risk. I know it’s too soon to even consider, but it’s baby season right now! The summer is butt to nut with cute babies. And I want one so badly. And the one I want is buried in the ground.
That was an awful thing to write. I can’t help it though. I try not to picture of him in there, in his tiny baby coffin, all alone. Somedays it hurts me too much just to think of him, because I only ever saw my little boy in the hospital with tubes and wires and machines. I wish so much that I could imagine him better as a fat little baby in the park or in Daddy’s arms. Maybe he’ll come to me like that in a dream someday.
Somehow medical words of diagnostics don’t do much for our confidence, do they? The words that described my miscarriage were “spontaneous abortion”. To me, that sounds more like I chose an abortion or as if my body betrayed me/my baby.
It’s hard to ever have faith in probability statistics again once you’ve been on the losing side of what were fantastic odds, isn’t it? Kind of like being told that you have a 90% chance of winning the million dollar lottery, but instead, you end up losing a million dollars of what you already had and you have to start further behind than you ever were!!!!! Somehow, no matter what the odds are next time around, it’s hard to put your heart on the line again. It was for me, too.
How I knew I was ready to try again….. My desire for a baby was stronger than my fear and I knew that I had to try in order to have one at all. Each step was taken in fear, with a loving husband and support from a circle of wonderful friends who had each known the loss of a baby. That helped immensely.
Summer is hard. All the pregnant bellies and little babies that stay inside or covered up in the winter, are out and about– everywhere!!!!!
As for wanting your baby who died and had to be buried to be alive & in your arms instead….. not a terrible thing to say. It’s a reality. Do you believe in angels? I tended to think of my babies as little cherubs and I kept 2 ceramic angels close by. When I longed to feel close to my them, I would stand and stroke the ceramic, thinking of the little one I missed. It helped me. Maybe that sounds sick, though, I don’t know???
Now I get to hold my 5 year old, 4 year and 2 year old. I would never have had them if I hadn’t tried again— scared as I was. When I used to read other women having written that to someone like me who had not carried a baby full-term yet, I, in my fear, tended to be skeptical… “sure YOU’RE confident, you’ve already HAD kids. Easy for you to tell me it will be okay. It’s not you in my shoes!!! It could so happen that I am the rare one who doesn’t end up with a baby in my arms and that it won’t work out for me.”
The only thing I can tell you is that you won’t ever know unless you try again. If you stop trying now, you won’t have a baby. It’ll be because you didn’t try again. If you try again, you will at the very least, never have reason to think, “If only I had tried again, maybe…” There will be an outcome and when you are rocking in a nursing home one day, you’ll be able to say, “I was terrified and I tried again. Now I know whether it was possible or not and only because I tried again.”
No one can tell you when is ‘too soon’. Your heart may never feel completely ready…. never completely relaxed about the idea of pregnancy again…. but when you know that you want to hold a baby more than you want anything else, even more than you want to avoid fear……. then you’ll be ready.
The medical term used for my multiple miscarriages (mmc) was that I had “habitual abortion.” What? I’m glad you got a Dx. It’s better to know, IMHO. Also, I love Marilyn’s advice and her statement about when she knew to try again: her “…desire for a baby was stronger than [her] fear.” One of my mmc friends had 10mc and now has one beautiful, happy toddler. Hang in there!!!
I just hope it didn’t sound as though I was saying you are a coward, because you are NOT!!!!!!!! Losing your baby is a devastating loss that affects every fibre of your being. Just sharing how I faced the fears, which may or may not be a mental strategy that helps you in the way it did me.
As Leslie Ann said, those who have had the uncommon experience of back-to-back loss, and then the very, very rare occurrence of so many repeated losses can end up with a baby in their arms if they keep trying. Take it one step at a time and one hour at a time. That’s what kept me going during those dark days at least….
Oh I know how you feel. It’s my screwy genetics that killed my boy. Being told that your body has a “serious degradation in the process” can really make a girl feel like shit. I’d really like to know why so many of the terms related to babyloss are so brutal? Miscarriage being referred to as “spontaneous abortion”, the use o the term “incompetent cervix” Fucking patriarchal medicine.
I have always hoped to see my tiny man in my dreams as a cute chubby little boy, but he is always my little tiny baby, I just can’t picture him as anything else!
Wishing you lovely dreams of your little one.
Oh Heather, I’m so sorry to read that you had to hear those horrible words and terms. I too heard awful terms such as incompetent fetus and spontaneous abortion when I lost my baby and the terms reeled through my mind for months. Like Marilyn, I think of my baby as a little chubby angel. That’s the only way I can find comfort. I think of my baby angel laughing, giggling and playing with other hilarious little baby friends that he would have know here. Other babies, such as yours. Thinking of our babies laughing and playing together, free of worry and harm makes me smile with tears in my eyes. Also like Marilyn, I let my desire to have a baby be stronger than my fear of trying again. Now, here I sit and I’m 19 weeks pregnant again. It’s awesome and it has helped me heal from the loss of my first baby. It hasn’t taken away from my anxiety about the approaching due date of what would have been my first baby but I will allow myself to be sad and cry that day…and then go back to focusing on the new blessing that is due in January. Only you will know when you’re ready to be pregnant again but when the time comes, I know that it will help mend your heart. I think of you often dear heart. Know that you are loved by many.