ripple effect

We’re enjoying a lazy, quiet weekend after the fanfare and craziness of last weekend. We had a nice belated Valentine dinner at Dogwood Friday night. I feel like I can still taste the incredible chocolate “indulgence” (their label, not mine – but an incredibly appropriate term) cake I had for dessert. It was pure heaven.

I’m starting to feel ready to pull out of my retreating mode. When I feel down or sad, I retreat. I like to stick to myself and avoid others. Craig tends to want to go out and socialize. I just can’t bring myself to do it. Our compromise is to go out and do something just the two of us. We went to dinner Friday night, and last night we ran errands and saw a movie. Today will be full of house chores and taxes. Fun stuff. Tomorrow I have to remember to go back for another round of bloodwork. My hcg level was at 99 on Monday and they want it down to at least 10 or so.

As with our previous losses, we are feeling such a ripple effect from this one. I think most people can understand – vaguely, perhaps – the idea that a life is lost in a miscarriage. Sure, it is a small life and it’s not one that anyone knows except for the parents. But it is a life, one that is already loved very much even if only in an abstract way. We again saw a heartbeat in this pregnancy. The fetus itself might not look like much, but there’s no mistaking the flicker of light on the screen during an ultrasound.

A miscarriage is more than the loss of a life, though. It’s also the loss of hopes and plans. For me, an example of the ripple effect is that it’s the loss of a way out of my job, which I have been wanting to get out of for a while now. In this economy there aren’t many other jobs available, and this was my way out. I already had it in my mind, “If I can just make it until September…” and then I could quit and take some time off and then search for something new when I was ready. Now I’m stuck again until I can find a new position.

It’s also the continued loss of friends. We have one couple that we socialize with regularly that doesn’t have children yet. Just one. (And we are quite thankful for them!) We are also glad to have a group of single friends that we see on rare occasion, but we only see them infrequently now that we no longer live in our old neighborhood, where the group is based. We have slowly lost our other social companions over the past few years. We don’t in any way fault them – they have their children and their lives are very different from ours – but we can’t keep inviting ourselves over or hoping for invitations that don’t come, and most don’t seem to be interested in bringing their kids to our place. (Which, again, we don’t fault them for – our house is not baby-proofed or stocked with toys and it also includes a dog.) And apparently babysitters are just not an option to people anymore. It’s really hard to lose your social circle because you don’t have kids, when that’s really all that you want in the world. It’s just one more reminder about how you don’t fit in with everyone else.

It is also hard to continue to disappoint others. And I feel that’s what I do. Continually. Heck, there are five sets of grandparents waiting on us.

In the meantime, the pregnancy announcements and birth announcements continue to come. They don’t usually bother me as much any more. I guess we’re just used to it.

Each loss forces us to re-think our decisions. That part really ticks me off – that we have to go through this process over and over again. We are both of the feeling now that we can’t just continue to let nature work its course for us. After 3.5 years, it would just be a dumb choice to make. Neither of us has ever had success handed to us on a silver platter, but we are used to being able to work at something and eventually succeed. It’s very difficult to repeatedly fail at something that comes naturally to 90% of the population, even when unwanted. I don’t imagine we’ll ever stop trying for a biological child, but we keep in mind that our goal is to become parents, and there’s more than one way we can do that.

We are going to work on the application for the adoption agency we found several weeks ago, and get moving on that front this week. I am a bit afraid that they will not take us right now – that we’re too close to the miscarriage or that they’ll have concerns about my medication (which I stopped the day I found out I was pregnant, and have decided not to start up again). But, we’ll put ourselves out there and see what happens.

This entry was posted in adoption, baby, life, pregnancy loss. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to ripple effect

  1. Amy says:

    We are thankful for you and Craig as well, Kelly. I can relate to the losing friends feeling as well. *Hugs* to you both.

  2. Kate D. says:

    Kelly,I was so sorry to read about your recent loss. My husband found your blog when searching for information about balanced translocations. We have had four pregnancy losses in the past 21 months due to unbalanced translocations. It is heartbreaking. I could relate to so many things on your blog and just really feel for you.

  3. AnneZ says:

    Hi Kelly, I’m Beth Stewart’s sister, and I’ve been following your journey through her and your blog. My heart grieves for your losses, and I don’t know what else to say other than that. I was speaking with the mother of boy in my daughter’s class who has recently adopted from China. She mentioned that she had a problem with balanced translocation, and I immediately thought of you. I have passed your blog info. to her and she will probably be contacting you. I just wanted to let you know.

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