Not Pregnant (I think)

So things are not looking good. I have had a bit of spotting, and a pregnancy test done yesterday was negative. I have been having mega PMS. It isn't 100% confirmed (I did do my test a little early), I will know for sure tomorrow, but it is most probably a no. This "difficult" period reveals to myself just how fucked up I am. The mental tornadoes of dialog that go through my head are really insane.

I could not wait to do the test. A normal person would have waited for the blood test which was originally scheduled for Thursday, or would have done a home test the day before. Not I. I had to do it on Monday because I was going insane.

I am sad, and the grief is weird. I didn't cry until I passed by an American Apparel store yesterday and this was the link: I had bought a turtle neck there about a week before Anise was born, and I wore it every day until she was born. I had a flashback to the days preceding her birth and I was overcome with sadness. It brought me to her birth, the experience of which is still in me physically, and in a sad way. I don't know why. But I do know why. When they pulled Anise out they yelled "it's a girl" and I cried with joy. Then they yelled "she's flat" and it was a good 20 seconds before I knew if she was ok. Those 20 seconds got stuck in my body. I knew for a very brief moment what it could have felt like to lose her. This failed IVF is bringing up feelings of the fragility of life, and in particular Anise's life. How lucky we were that we got pregnant right away last time, and how lucky were we that she was ok. Now it seems so difficult and complicated, and we are now realizing that never having another child is a possibility. I was confident going in, that although our embryos are fucked up, my body fertility wise, was still young enough.

I feel somehow this is my fault. But that feeling of guilt is not me actually feeling responsible, it is more than that, it is my ego talking because if it my fault that it didn't work, then I can also choose to make it work, and that gives me an illusion of control. If I can control it, then I can make it happen next time. If only there were something more I could do. What do you have to eat to produce healthier eggs?

I don't have theories about when life begins. But if it does begin at conception, then even though this embryo didn't stick, I still touched its life. And my feelings of loss could be an actual loss of this life that was inside of me, even if only for a short time. And that is why I am scared for Anise.

Isn't it amusing how I can come up with all sorts of elaborate theories of loss and sadness, instead of just feeling it is normal to be sad and disappointed that this IVF cycle didn't work? I want to put up a brave face. Failure is part of these procedures, and I knew that going in. Some people have to do this 10 times.

And you know what bothers me the most about this whole thing? My weight. that is what I have been obsessing about. After all that it is only my vanity that matters.

At least I mourned yesterday, and was able to close the chapter. Then I woke up this morning with renewed false hope that there is a real possibility. Maybe it was too early for the test, and sometimes people have some spotting...

I go for my blood test tomorrow.

Ultra

Haircut got postponed. I hate when that happens. Now I have dirty hair. And it was hot again today.

Tomorrow we go for an ultrasound (and I am such an idiot that I think I may have forgotten to book it, but my husband reassured me that because we paid 10 700$ they will probably squeeze us in) to make sure there are no cysts and we can go ahead with the follicle stimulating drug. I should be concerned about it, but all I can think of is whether Anise will be ok without me tomorrow. My mom will come be with her in the morning, and I have a babysitter coming in the afternoon. I have hired these college students to be with Anise four afternoons a week. Since she only naps in stroller (don't worry, I am not getting into it) I needed the break, then got addicted and dependent on the break! Anise is good with them, but has a limit of about 2 and a half hours, then she gets ancy. Tomorrow will be worse since I will have been gone all morning too. Sometimes I feel I stress her out for no good reason. I am going to meet with a colleague/friend of mine, I haven't had a chance to talk to him in ages and I am looking forward to it. So yes I need to recharge my batteries to be a better mom blah blah blah, but I still get anxious sometimes about leaving her. Is that me being crazy, or am I reacting to a reality which is she isn't entirely happy being left yet?

I have been thinking a lot about Anise's birth lately, and how can a child feel confident that their mother is coming back when their first experience out of the womb was being ripped away from their mother for 2 hours? Just when she needed me most. I want to sue the hospital for having put us through that. The repercussions are so much greater than they realize. I will never get that back, and neither will Anise, but I fantasize about going back in time and insisting that we not be separated. Maybe if I had signed consents? I am sad and angry about my birth experience, when will that heal? And until it does, why would another person want to come to me?

One year ago

Anise is one today. Wow, one year. I don't think I can conceptualize what one year feels like. It is four seasons, one summer, one Christmas, many concerts ago.

My labour started on a Monday night, at 11pm. I slept until 1am. Then I woke up husband.

"I think this is it. I think but I don't know for sure".

He got up, had to get some work finished. I took a shower (one of the smartest things I have ever done btw...) then tried to sleep. Listened to Vivaldi's Dixi Dominus, I was relaxed. Then I listened to my hypnobirth tape

"This is it".

I felt no different after the tape. It was the same tape I had been listening to every day for a couple of months. Then I took a bath. The next thing I remember it was 6 am, time to call the midwife, getting too painful. Called my sister to let her know. Then it was 8 am and no one showed up at home. "Call again, and call hypnotherapist, because the tape hasn't worked". Three and 1/2 hours of labour and I was ready to push. Creepy hypno guy came and didn't help the pain but I liked his touch (I couldn't bear my husband's touch - poor thing - but remember, I had been conditioned to the hypno guy's voice for months). At 11:30 my membranes were ruptured, and I started pushing. No break between contractions, a lot of pain. Pushing was good, at least there was something to do. Baby was coming, they could see her, I could feel her head.

"That does not feel like a head" I said.

They told me that sometimes babies' heads get squished and they could be wrinkled. Kept pushing. They feel around the baby's head, something isn't right. Their faces fell.

"This baby cannot be born here, we have to call an ambulance."

"This is a nightmare" I said. "Yes, it is a nightmare." midwife answered.

"Now you will feel a contraction, but you will not push"

"Ok" I said, innocently.

Then the contraction, "holy &%?*....." But I had to push, I had no choice.

Suddenly I could do it - the breathing they had been talking about my whole labour. I had to. I breathed, I had no choice. I thought the pain was unbearable before, it wasn't, this was.

It took 20 minutes for the ambulance to arrive. They came and they fought with the midwives, my husband the hero made them stop.

"Do not have this baby in this ambulance" midwife said.

I was taken to hospital.

"Face presentation" they said. Automatic C-section. Apparently it is one in thousands. It is extremely rare. She was coming out lips first. I was right - that wasn't her head we were feeling, it was her lips.

I was in the operating room, shaking from the drugs. It felt like a long time that I was alone, my husband was not allowed in. Doctors were busy, I was not allowed to ask questions. I would find out later that they had to push the baby back in, she was almost out. Finally husband was there "it's a girl" they said. That was the happiest moment, I cried.

"She's flat" they said as the baby was passed along. I kept asking if she was okay, no one answered me. I asked if she was alive, still no answer.

I thought she had died. In 3 seconds many thoughts came into my mind. It was my fault for choosing to give birth at home. It was too good to be true, I will never get my baby. Then I heard it, doctors laughing and discussing dinner - so she must be alive!

Then they showed us our baby, and we kissed her. Her lips were swollen and her face was blue- bruised and blistered, she looked so damaged. Then they went away, husband and baby, and I was alone. I was being put back together again, and it was painful, and long, and other doctors were called in, and I was told to be quiet, my shouts of pain were not letting the doctor do her job. Something was wrong but I was not told what.

Then it was over, and I was alone in recovery. I asked to see my baby, but the rule was not until I could move my toes. I begged to see my baby. I cried. One hour later I was taken up to see her, my mother was there. I held her skin ro skin and we bonded immediately.

The rest is usual baby hospital stuff. I didn't walk for a couple of days, they released me after 5. Being home was bliss, and my baby was an angel. She had the wisest eyes. She looked old and mature, and she never cried. She communicated through her eyes, and she had a full head of soft silky hair. She took care of me.

One week later I had horrible pain, I couldn't stand up, it turns out I had broken a rib, we don't know how it broke. Either from the labour, or the C-section. A couple of days later my incision reopened. My breasts were killing, my body was falling apart.

For a long time when I would think back to the birth it felt to me as if someone had died. I could rationalize my feelings, but it was beyond what I could explain. Yes, I was disappointed, it was not what I had planned etc. But it wasn't that. I got over that, my baby was alive and so was I, that is all that really mattered. I got over the loss of control, the ton of medication I had to take, and loss of the sanctity of birth. I got passed the harsh lighting, and the separation. Something was gripping me, and it took me a long time to define it. It was terror.

Either because I was in an altered (hypnotized) state, or just whatever state a labouring woman is in, I felt no fear. I didn't feel the fear. But it had been there. It was so deep and so great that it did not come out for a while. My husband felt it, and then when Anise was out and healthy he was relieved. I never felt the sigh of relief because I felt the fear too late.

Now one year later I feel better. I have finally found my energy again, and have finally lost most of the weight. It took me a long time to regain my strength, my body took a beating, and took it hard. I was surprised, I am in fairly good shape, and I usually heal fast.

And little Anise is changing faster than I can notice. There is so much significance in turning one, I never knew that.

This has been the best year of my life.

Thank you Anise for choosing us.