Coming unhinged

There are too many huge decisions I need to make. I am so overwhelmed by even the smallest things. I just wish life could be easy.

Disney...and more

So on Friday the 17th as I was getting ready to leave for the day was informed I should not be allowed to go on my leave because I missed my 'fat girl' class. No, that isn't the official name, it is properly called the Healthy Living and Body Composition Improvement Program. I have been on ths progra, since Oct '06 and have yet to find any benefit from it. I only fail my fitness test because f my weight, and the information had not changed in 3 years, so really I don't feel like I missed much. At any rate I was about 3-4 minutes late, so they put me down as a no-show and the squadron commanders policy is no leave if you are delinquent on the class.

I broke down and cried in front of my flight commander. I already feel that I was robbed of time to heal and recover from my loss, and then this. It was too much, I told him I wasn't gong to re-enlist and that I jsut can't handle this anymore. I also said something about commandrs at any level being willing to take a stance for their members and that mental health is more important than worrying about getting in trouble about someone missing a class. He went and spoke to the squadron commnader and worked out a deal, I could take the trip to Disney, and woul dhave to be in the HLP class on July 28th if it was available, lucky for me it is full, so I get to take my full 2 weeks of leave!

I had fun at Disney, but the last day was hard. Thinking of Colm and how I was able to have so much fun because I wasn't pregnant. I was able to drink at Epcot, I was able to walk and not be in a lot of pain. I was able to go on rides. And I had fun, but at waht expense? I would rather have my baby. I would take the aches and pains of being 34 weeks pregnant over the fun anyday.

Dave and I met up with my Aunt and Uncle anf their son at Epcot. It was nice to get to see them. They made a good point about the re-enlistment. I think I will do it, and put up with the junk if I have to. If I fail the test and they seperate me in Dec, well then I will get severence. I guess it would be worth it.

Life is just so crazy. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel. I don't want to be in the military right now. I need time for me, time to heal, time to figure out what is right for us now. I don't get that. I get pressure and worries about fitness and running and losing weight. I get more of the crap that I often wonder if it led to Colm's death. Did I push myself too hard, did I eat enough, was my body starved from the weeks before I got pregnant, from all the exercise and eating too little calories, was I just not able to properly sustain a pregnancy. My enlistment is up in Sept, so I need to hurry up and make up my mind. And I just don't know what to do.

Other information from last weeks midwife visit

So the autopsy had me upset enough to forget that some of the other info I got when I saw the midwife was probably worth sharing too.   Number one was that if we decide to have another baby, and are still in NJ, I can still have them for my providers. I am happy about that because I just love them to pieces. Seriously. They are both very caring and Pam took such good care of me during my labor with Colm. How many women have their provider stay with them during labor, I mean in the room talking and being there, getting water or juice of I asked? Plus, she let me go home when I wanted to, so I was home just 4-5 hours after Colm was born. I was afraid I would be considered high risk and 'risked' out of their care. She said she wants to take care of me if we have another baby, because she doesn't want me to have to have the pain of explaining my situation. She wanted me to know that they would just be there for me, and help me get through it, and I know they would. They would do extra ultrasounds, etc. Be there if I needed an reassurance. That is good to know. Being surrounded by caring people during pregnancy and birth...and death is so important. The human touch is an amazing medicine.

Bad news, I have a femoral hernia. I have probably had it for ages. In 2000 I was doing a fitness test and when I was doing the sit-ups I had excruciating pain. So the hernia has probably been un-diagnosed for years even though I have been complaining about it forever. From what I have read the only treatment is surgery, and since I need to be able to do sit-ups, it will probably be the case for me.

Better in the light of day

It is better today.  My mind is more clear and I can breath through my nose again.  David was still awake when I ventured upstairs, or swollen ad stuffed-up from crying.  I blurted it all out, and it feels better to have talked about it with him.  Irrational fear that he wouldn't love me anymore, yeah grief does stupid things to you.

I am still a little down today, but MUCH better.

I guess I will be busy the next few weeks, maybe busy enough to help me not think to much about my precious baby.  

David said an interesting thing last night.  He said maybe Colm was close to me last night, and when he left I felt his loss.  I don't know if stuff happens like that, but I guess it makes sense in a way.

Just something

My mind has been just going a mile a minute since yesterday.  I don't know how to feel or what to think.   I knew Colm was dead for a few days, as soon as I saw him I knew because of how his skin looked.  We got the autopsy report yesterday, it wasn't really very helpful from what they could tell he looked to be normal.  The placenta may have been undernourished for too long to really get any good information from it.  Then of course I can't understand a lot of what was said in that report, any pathologists out there wanna translate?

Macerated.  It is a horrible word and I hate it.  And that is what goes through my mind now when I think of Colm.  No, it isn't a bad word, but I hate it.  It means I let him be dead inside me for a long time, it means I was in so much denial and was so scared.  I knew he was dead, or at least he was not doing well, I knew it, I could feel it.  And I didn't do anything about it.  I know, I know, i know he was not big enough to be save, I know that, I know the outcome would not have been any different, he would still be dead.  But, maybe the placenta would have been able to tell us more.  There were clots, but that happens when the baby has been dead a long time, but it also happens when a cot is what kills the baby, and I will never know for which reason there were clots present. Yes, I can be tested for clotting disorders, I guess I should go through with that to be careful.  But, what really makes me sad, is that the only thing I really have of him are his pictures, and if I had been strong enough to admit that he was gone, well then he would have nicer pictures, because he wouldn't be macerated.  Macerated, macerated.  Severe maceration suggestive of intrauterine demise > 7 days.  And I knew.  I tried to pretend it was the anterior placenta, but I knew and I waited, and hoped and imagined movements, but he was dead and I was in denial and now it is my fault that I hate his pictures, I hate the only little part of him I have.  I hate that I look at them and feel that he isn't the beautiful baby he should be, and then I don't want to look at him and then I feel guilty about that.

HOw do you talk about something like this?  Where do you find someone who understands?  How many mothers hate the site of their own baby?

I just miss him so much.  I want my baby back.  I promise I didn't mean it when I thought to myself in the beginning that I didn't want to be pregnant.  I really, truly didn't mean it.  It is just that my back hurt, and I had my fitness test to worry about, and Evie was so young, and it was just so overwhelming at the time.  But, I really did want him.  So why does the little voice in my head keep badgering me and telling me, "you got what you asked for"?  Even then, that day when I was trying to stand up and my back was like being stabbed because of the pain.  Even that day when I thought to myself that I just didn't want to be pregnant, when I was crying because I couldn't walk.  Even that day I said to myself, "if something happens you will forever feel guilty"  Boy, was I right.  I told myself that not wanting to be pregnant because it was so painful, was NOT the same as not wanting the baby that grows inside you.  But, I still just feel so bad.  I did want him, and yet I feel like it is somehow my fault, because for one brief moment I thought to myself that I didn't want to be pregnant. 

Tonight is a sad night, and I just want my baby back.  I want my belly to be huge and my back to be hurting.  

I don't want to be the mother of a dead baby.

No catchy title

Patrick leaves tomorrow to spend two weeks with my mother-in-law. What a weird situation it is. Part of me is happy that he is going, he can use the break from his siblings, and he can be pretty difficult at times. But, I do love him a bunch and it will be strange not to have him here.

We will pickhim up when we go on vacation. Disney World here we come!

And as much as I am looking forward to going and getting away for a bit, it will surely be bitter-sweet. I will get to have drinks and go on rides, and I think it will make me cry. I should be about 34 weeks when we leave, I should be just about at the 'no travel' milestone when we get back. Instead I am worried about sticking to my diet and trying to lose 2 pounds. What a bunch of crap. I will enjoy our trip, it will be good to not have to worry about drinking at Epcot, not to worry about going on the TOwer of Terror. But, I would rather be making those sacrifices, I would rather be big and fat and wishing that my pregnancy was almost over.