Grief

The Kübler-Ross model, commonly known as the five stages of grief, was first introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying.

It describes, in five discrete stages, a process by which people deal with grief and tragedy, especially when diagnosed with a terminal illness or catastrophic loss. In addition to this, her book brought mainstream awareness to the sensitivity required for better treatment of individuals who are dealing with a fatal disease.

That's from Wiki. Now i understand why people get so pissed off with Wiki. Discrete my ass. I'm angry! I'm hurt! I'm frustrated! And there is nothing I can do. I can't get that baby back. I can't get any of them back.

The first stage is denial. 

I start this stage while still pregnant. People talk to me about miracle pregnancies that women bleed for seven months and they're still pregnant. They still have beautiful babies. And I buy it. I buy that it could happen to me. I could have the baby. I could be one of these women with awesome outcomes. I deny that I'm loosing the baby. I can't believe it. Why, why is it happening to me? How could it happen to me AGAIN. But it does. And then. . .

Anger. 

I get really angry. At everyone. At no one. And anyone who gets in my way is liable to be struck. It's not their fault, it's not my fault, but they become an outlet for my rage. And in my rage I start to think. . .maybe if I do something different, it'll come back. 

I BARGAIN. 

I make promises to myself, to my body, to the baby I lost. I give things up, I cry and I beg, I promise that things will change as long as I get that baby back. But it never comes back. . .. and I know it can't come back. . .so I get. . .

Depressed. 

I think about suicide. Running away. Giving up. I throw myself a big ass pity party. I eat. I hide from the world. I wonder why I'm here. What good am I as a woman if I can't do something simple as create life. . . . I read things that upset me, like the Georgia Rep. who proposed a law that would make miscarriage a punishable offence. I shit you not. 

I thought I had moved onto acceptance. But I realize that I only moved on because I bargained. I knew that my son, and his twin, were conceived on the back of a miscarriage. I said to myself that this needed to happen. It was a necessary evil. It needed to happen so I had a higher quality of egg. But it looks like I'm not pregnant. We didn't do the dance when we needed to. . ..and I'm not pregnant. And now I'm further into depression. 

I requested my chart from our old IVF clinic. The one that traumatized me and I made the mistake of reading my chart. 

One of the things that disgusted me, and a friend that was over, was the callous nature the IVF doctor talked about me in her notes. The pregnancy I lost before Hunter we had a heartbeat and it slowed and eventually stopped. She said I was in 'denial' and 'disbelief' that we lost the heartbeat. She wanted to D&C when we still had a heartbeat. She wanted me to induce with cytotec. (A drug that isn't FDA approved for that use and has been linked to uterine rupture from it's use.) I then read the lab report. 

I had to harvest that tissue. When I harvested it I found two placentas and one fetus. They were very callous when I brought the baby in. They asked me to put him in saline and bring it to them. They began pulling things apart in front of me. 

So, needless to say, today I have been in a right pissy mood. I've been having a huge pitty party all day. I went to a craft store and got some yarn, I've recently become addicted to knitting, Hubs took back two gifts we got from Hunters Aunt and we got only half of their worth in gift receipts and Hubs thought that was okay, and I flipped out. On the cashier, on him, on Auntie who wasn't even here (because she didn't give us a gift receipt. . .

So here I am in depression. 

I'm hoping I make it to acceptance soon.