Sad, But Okay

Originally, I had no intention of writing about this, but for some reason, I've changed my mind. I think perhaps I feel as if I don't write this stuff down, then I lose the majority of it to my crappy memory. And I don't want to forget. Every once in awhile I read stuff from my blog (Thailand days) and go, "Holy shit, I had forgotten that even happened!" and it's something big, not something minor and humorous like how I almost drove my motorcycle into an elephant's ass.

In about 2 weeks I was going to announce that I was pregnant. It was that close. But as of a couple days ago, I started miscarrying. I'm okay, though in some pain and pretty unhappy about how this all plays out physically. But emotionally and mentally I'm suprisingly okay. Not fine, not great, but okay. Still, my reaction has somewhat surprised me. But I know I'm not in denial.

And the sad thing is, it's because of all my friends' pain. Nearly all my friends have had babies, the vast majority within the past five years. And as this all started going on, I started learning that the majority of them, (though not all), were having at least one miscarriage before successfully giving birth. Initially, this stunned me. I had always thought miscarriages were one of those rare, tragic things that occassionally a woman experienced, but as more friends started going through them, I saw them for what they were -- sad, but somewhat common.

I mentioned in a past blog about a co-worker who had had one -- I believe her second -- and had missed quite a bit of work. She was devastated. And my boss, who is really a wonderful woman, had shocked me by leaning in and saying, "You don't understand, J., they're really common. They happen all the time." I thought she had been a little callous at the time, but as time went on, I learned she was right. And more of my friends went through this, and they were all so sad. It's because I've watched so many others go through this pain that I had already braced for it myself, and in some way, thought I would be lucky if I did not experience it. I'm considered a high-risk pregnancy by default (high blood pressure and age). I wasn't pessimistic, just prepared.

I also learned that miscarriages, in Nature's view, are a good thing. Sometimes a fetus should never develop -- something is horribly wrong with it. And this is Nature's, and the body's, way of saying, "No, this baby would not make it. We need to start over." Nature is hardly ever warm and fuzzy, just watch Animal Planet for an hour or two to catch that. She's brutal, but she knows what she's doing.

I had that, "You've made it past the danger zone" ultrasound scheduled for next week, but I started to bleed, and we all know what that means. What's worse, is that the hospital is over an hour's drive away and Beau works 20 minutes in the opposite direction, so I had to wait for him to get a sub to cover him at work and come get me. We finally got to the place, and had the ultrasound, and it was all but confirmed. I was checked into the hospital, and after waiting FOREVER (it was the day before a long holiday weekend), was surprisingly greeted by an American obstetrician. They took blood, gave me the RH- shot, and told me to come back in a few days. Finally, at the end of a long day, Beau and I drove home, a little sad, but okay. I hate how this is being kind of dragged out. I want it to end, but I'll follow the doctor's advice.

In addition, Beau was unbelievably amazing during all this, which I think also made it a lot easier, unlike one friend who was dealing with painfully difficult husband while going through the same thing (she eventually had a beautiful baby boy, but got divorced soon after). Beau was there every step of the way, though all he could do for the most part was sit there. I think by the end of the day I loved him twice as much as when I had woken up that morning.

Well, it'll be a few more months of waiting before we can "try" again, ugh. I got pregnant SUPER fast due to my anally-organized tendencies, vigilence with my ovulation kits, and a little help from Beau, of course. I thought we were super lucky, and the timing was great. Unfortunately, the first couple months SUCKED. I lost 20lbs, hated nearly all food (Me! a Foodie!), got exhausted after any kind of minimal exertion, and of course, was a bit crabby. It was like having the stomach flu for a month. But I was finally starting to feel better. I was beginning to get excited. Now, we'll have to go through all that again.

Anyway, I had one weird encounter which I wanted to write down, since it's kind of a local cultural thing, and that's one of the main reasons I started this blog in the first place - to record this kind of stuff....

At the end of the day when we had returned from the hospital and were back in our little town, Beau had to go to one of the teacher's homes to pick up his keys from her. Her husband, also a teacher, came out of the house with her. The husband made a gesture at me to smile, and I obliged, though inwardly I was a little bit annoyed. Beau had left the engine running (hint hint) and I stayed in the car. I was NOT feeling particularly social and just wanted to get back home. But of course, in this small town, word travels fast and the word "family" is something you hear a lot. A lot, a lot.

The husband strolled slowly up to my car window, a strange, twisted look on his face. As he reached me, he immediately started in on me, scolding and berating me. Basically, the gist was that we were all a family in this community, we were all together and supported each other no matter what. When there was an emergency, we all drop whatever we are doing and rush to aid that person (he noted that his wife had had plans that day but had, of course, cancelled them to cover for Beau). And Beau and I are not alone, should not act like we're alone, we are supported, etc. etc.

Part of me was touched by this...um...slap in the face, though I felt sheepish and had to keep saying things like, "I know, thank you, I know, yes yes." This is a very kind couple who I have always really liked, and yes, I do know where he was coming from and I did appreciate it. But I was also a little upset that I was sort of being harrassed, especially at such a vulnerable time.

Beau and I are a lot alike -- we can be very social if we have to be, but truthfully, we're homebodies and like to live quietly -- going to movies or out to dinner together. We're really not the types to rush out and proclaim such news (well, um, except for on my BLOG, *cough*). And the LAST thing I wanted was the entire community to know, to have people coming up to me left and right to comfort me. I appreciate well-wishers, but from a distance. I just need a couple of people I care about to care. Anything else makes me feel uncomfortable and uneasy and I feel as if I have to put on some kind of fake face to satisfy them and get them away from me as soon as possible.

Does that sound unbelievably rude? Unfeeling? I don't mean it to be. I guess I just want to have some true sincerity around me and though I may be touched by people's good intentions, for me, it makes the situation worse rather than better.

Anyway, I have mixed feelings about my cultural encounter. I know that in this indigenous community, that's how things are done, but I think I am going to find that pretty tough in the future. But as always, you have to try and fit in to the place you live. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do" hasn't survived this long for nuthin.

And now, I'm going to go and lay down and read for a bit. Perhaps several months in the future I'll have some better news for you all. :)