A dear friend sent me this story from NPR about a couple and their experience with miscarriage and grief. They planted a bulb to commemorate their lost baby. The story got me thinking about how we grieve. I know I've emailed back and forth on this topic with many of you, so feel free to chime in.
Without further ado, here are five ways to commemorate your lost baby.
5. Buy jewelry. Duh, you deserve it. Also, it's special. A friend bought me a "comet" necklace off Etsy. She said it was to signify a bright spot gone too quickly. I remember the sentiment each time I wear it.
4. Journal your heart out. It really does help.
3. Write a letter. To the little one. Kinda like journaling, only more specific.
2. Plant a tree. Stake out a special place and dig deep into the earth. Take pictures. Cry.
1. Name the baby. I named both of mine. I don't really use their names when thinking of them, but I like that they have them. Bizarre, I know.
Anyone have a special tip to share?
lots of love,
Ed
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Things No One Tells You About Miscarriage
This post is not for the faint of heart. I'm writing it for people like Old Me, who, one year go, had no idea what suffering a miscarriage entailed. One year ago, I was happily pregnant and hoping and planning for the best. I had seen the baby's heartbeat, and my dear parents, wild with excitement, had told every family member and friend on planet earth that we were pregnant.
When the doctor told me and my husband that the baby's heart had stopped on August 26th, 2010, when the baby should have been about 10 weeks, I was devastated. But I had no idea about the horror show I was in for.
1. You may have to deliver the baby. After that fateful August appointment, my doctor sent me home with no advice and a prescription for Tylenol Codeine. A few nights later I woke up with a fever and the worst pain of my life. My husband rushed me to the ER, where they pumped me full of Dilaudid. I delivered our tiny baby that night, and yes, I could see the baby and placenta.
2. You might need a D&C. If I had known then what I know now, I would have a requested a D&C immediately. They knock you out and take out the baby and placenta, etc. There is some risk of scarring, but the benefit is that they can keep the fetus in a sterile environment and test for the cause. This is important with repeat miscarriages.
3. You will bleed like crazy. I bled for weeks after both miscarriages, more blood than I've seen in an episode of True Blood. I bled some normal blood and lots of red gelatinous stuff as well. You really don't want to be far from home during this time.
4. You can't have sex for a few weeks after. This was never a problem for me. Who wants to have sex while balling your eyes out? Still it's important to note.
5. You will feel sadness and anger and jealousy beyond your wildest imagination. You must be kind to yourself during this time. Here are some ideas.
6. You might suffer post traumatic stress syndrome. It's gory, it's death, it's horrific. Do the things you need to do to cope. This is a perfect time to visit a therapist (you can find them in your zip code via Psychology Today) or join a support group through RESOLVE.
7. People will say the stupidest things imaginable. And you will be left wondering if you're in the Twilight Zone. Have some answers ready, and don't let yourself be a doormat.
8. You will find kindness and hope with people who understand. Whether on the Internet or in your daily life, seek out people who understand, and they will comfort you. Find a friend to email (you can always email me) and vent. It helps.
I know miscarriages can be different depending on the situation. Did I forget anything?
When the doctor told me and my husband that the baby's heart had stopped on August 26th, 2010, when the baby should have been about 10 weeks, I was devastated. But I had no idea about the horror show I was in for.
1. You may have to deliver the baby. After that fateful August appointment, my doctor sent me home with no advice and a prescription for Tylenol Codeine. A few nights later I woke up with a fever and the worst pain of my life. My husband rushed me to the ER, where they pumped me full of Dilaudid. I delivered our tiny baby that night, and yes, I could see the baby and placenta.
2. You might need a D&C. If I had known then what I know now, I would have a requested a D&C immediately. They knock you out and take out the baby and placenta, etc. There is some risk of scarring, but the benefit is that they can keep the fetus in a sterile environment and test for the cause. This is important with repeat miscarriages.
3. You will bleed like crazy. I bled for weeks after both miscarriages, more blood than I've seen in an episode of True Blood. I bled some normal blood and lots of red gelatinous stuff as well. You really don't want to be far from home during this time.
4. You can't have sex for a few weeks after. This was never a problem for me. Who wants to have sex while balling your eyes out? Still it's important to note.
5. You will feel sadness and anger and jealousy beyond your wildest imagination. You must be kind to yourself during this time. Here are some ideas.
6. You might suffer post traumatic stress syndrome. It's gory, it's death, it's horrific. Do the things you need to do to cope. This is a perfect time to visit a therapist (you can find them in your zip code via Psychology Today) or join a support group through RESOLVE.
7. People will say the stupidest things imaginable. And you will be left wondering if you're in the Twilight Zone. Have some answers ready, and don't let yourself be a doormat.
8. You will find kindness and hope with people who understand. Whether on the Internet or in your daily life, seek out people who understand, and they will comfort you. Find a friend to email (you can always email me) and vent. It helps.
I know miscarriages can be different depending on the situation. Did I forget anything?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)