I feel alone

I need to write this out to fully process this. I really don’t want to talk about it, but I’m afraid if I keep it in, I’ll only feel worse and more stressed and that won’t help the situation. This is a super delicate situation and very personal. Please understand that. But I don’t know what else to do.

I know I’m not the first person to have a complication with pregnancy, but it doesn’t change the fact that I feel so alone.

After spending the majority of my night last night in the ER, getting home after midnight, I was left feeling deflated and in fear of having a miscarriage because the doctor said he, “Just can’t place odds on me.”

I was diagnosed with SCH (Subchorionic Hematoma) and of course, mine has to be on the “larger than average” size. Go big or go home, I guess.

And as I sit here in bed, feeling sorry for myself, I feel guilty. I know I did nothing wrong. Doctors don’t know what causes them or how to cure them. They just are. Exercising did nothing, breathing did nothing, it just is.

After talking with my own OB she gave me some good odds. She’s obviously seen this more than the ER docs and have seen them through. She said even with how large mine is, I can still go on to have a healthy baby and normal pregnancy. It’ll just take some time to heal.

So for now, I’m in limbo. And I hate this place. I hate this feeling. I just want to know.

I got upset last night thinking to myself, “Well, all those people who said to me, ‘it was meant to be that you have this baby!’ I wanted to smack. Is it meant to be that THIS is happening, too? Fuck fate.”

I think I’m past the anger stage and am now moving towards acceptance. I have no control over what happens. I can just sit and wait and pray. I saw the little baby on the screen and I felt good, knowing that, despite the SCH, it was still healthy and happy for now.

And that’s all I’ve got to hang on to.

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About Cassie

Two sisters from two misters. What could be more fun?

Posted on August 21, 2012, in Cassie. Bookmark the permalink. 16 Comments.

  1. The uncertainty of it is mind boggling. I wish I had the words to comfort you in this situation. It is times like this that I fall back to the Serendity (sp?) Prayer even though I’m not very religious: Lord help me to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. I had bleeding during a pregnancy and it was only after a weekend of bed rest and ultrasound that I learned the fate of my baby who is now 23 years old. It was the longest weekend of my life. I hope everything turns out favorably. Deb

  2. Please try not to over-think it. Worry is normal, but try not to obsess, or worry about “what is meant to be” or not. Shit happens, often to good people, for no particular reason. Just deal with the here and now, and what to do moving forward. Take it easy and let yourself heal.

    You can’t will this away, or fight it off. Just heal. Do what you have to, to tend to the little ones, but don’t sweat the small shit. Realize that one of the things you have going for you is uncommonly good sense.

    And know that your friends are with you.

  3. Oh, sweetie.

    I’ll tell you a little story. After Flora, Dan and I had every intention of having other babies. Our plan (yes, you may laugh) was to wait until Flora was 3.

    when Flora was 18 months old, I was pregnant with Kate. Minor panic ensued. It was too early, we weren’t ready for another baby, F was too young, so on, so forth. Well the 20-week U/S rolled around, and we discovered Kate (who was still Bun at this point) had something called a CCAM.

    Oh my goodness, the guilt. The stress, the suspense, the fear.

    And now she is a spunky as all get out 5 year old.

    Of course you don’t know what will happen, and of course you are feeling the way you feel. Your feelings are valid. I know for me that prayer the only thing I had at times to get me through the hardest parts. Talk to your husband and your doctor and your higher power. And if you need some company and a yard for your kids to run around in, you say the word.

  4. Hugs. If you need someone to bitch to or to talk to about anything else, I’m a click away, and I’d be more tha happy to listen.

  5. Bluzdude’s words are perfect.

    I’m sorry you’re having to go through this. I hope that your Dr can give you constant updates and sonograms to keep an eye on the baby so that you can have some comfort and peace of mind through your pregnancy. And remember stress is awful for you and the baby. I know it’ll be weighing on you but like Bluz said, don’t over think it or let yourself get more stressed than absolutely necessary.

    I’m not an overly religious person. Despite that I pray and give thanks each and every day, multiple times – especially for my son. Rather it helps or not, I’m going to add you and your baby in my prayers and thanksgiving for as long as it takes. Please keep us posted on everything. And in the meantime vent here. We’re all here for you to vent to.

  6. I’m so sorry you’re going through this Cass. I know is sucks so freaking bad, but know that I’m here for you and you are in my thoughts and prayers. I’m also so thankful for your amazing doctor. And if she is positive about everything with all her experience, I think that’s a great sign.

  7. I am so sorry that you have to go through this – and I am sorry that I can’t do anything to help you. As with every other feelings, you shouldn’t feel bad about having them or talking about them (easier said than done, I know…). We are here to listen to your vents and rants and fears and struggles and hopes – everything!
    As you said, the ER-doctors probably don’t see as many of them as your OB, so I would say her opinion definitely counts more. I hope you get positive news soon so that you KNOW that everything will be okay – and in the meantime, take care of yourself and, as said above, we\’re all here for you…

  8. There are so many little (& big) things that are scary about being pregnant. I hate that you have one more to add to your list. Hang in there, girl. You have a lot of folks that are here for you, and you’re one strong lady. You’ll get through this. In the meantime, lots of *hugs* being sent through cyberspace just for you.

  9. Wow I hated reading this. Know that I will pray for you and the baby. And know that as someone who has gone through the nightmare of miscarriage, you’ll always grapple with the question of, “Did I do something?” and of course the answer is no. It’s impossible not to obsess over that question, but please try your best not to. Trust your doctor. It’s all you can do, really; be satisfied with that knowledge.

  10. Dude that sucks. Hard. You know what I went through before Louie. I read up on SCH and the prognosis isnt as bad as I thought. You know that you never take an ER doc’s word for anything. All they know is right now, they don’t see long term so they don’t think long term. I’m thinking of you. If you need anything, let me know.

  11. (hugs) I had an endometrial ablation a few years before I had Abigial. No one gave us good odds either, and I also had every day of “stay close to the hospital ‘just in case'” which meant, if I started bleeding they’d “terminate” my perfectly healthy baby to save my own life. After 24 weeks or so it was “stay near the hospital so maybe we can save both of you.” Then it was “We can still get to delivery and have a catastrophe.” There wasn’t much of a chance I’d relax and NOT think about things as they stood.

    However, my OB, while not in a very populated area, had had a few women in my position and was confident in his abilities. He also sent me to Magee every two months to talk to the drs there (You’re in Pittsburgh, right?) and they were even less…I want to say concerned…because they pretty much saw it all the time.

    Bluzdude is right…all we can do is all we can do. You have little ones who will keep you busy, a husband who loves your pants off (ha ha) and friends in all corners of the globe who are prepared (at any moment) to cheer you on, rejoice with you, mourn with you, pick you up when you’re down or kick you in the ass if need be. You’re loved. Hard. And you’re totally going to rock this too.

  12. unapologeticallymundane

    Way to go, ER doc! They’re at least supposed to give you teeeeeeerrible odds so that, like, when your mom lives with brain cancer a full year longer than they expect her to, everyone can lightheartedly punch each other on the shoulders and say, “Those ER doctors! They don’t know anything! Haha! Hahaha!”

    Thank goodness you have a great family and awesome friends to help you through this, and I have no doubt that you’ll make the best of whatever happens in the end. Which I obviously think is going to be a healthy, happy baby, because you apparently have a uterus of steel that makes kids even when you don’t want it to.

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