The EDD

Today was the estimated due date for our baby.

I didn't expect today to be emotionally difficult. When we first learned our baby's due date on January 24, I was excited that I was already nine weeks along, and I earmarked August 27th in my mind as the general time of year that our baby would be born. I knew it wouldn't happen on that day. That day is already taken by my sister. :) Only 5% of women deliver on their due date, so I knew I would have a baby anywhere from mid-August to early September. August 27th was a ballpark figure, an idea, not a SUPER SPECIAL DAY.

So as this day approached, I was aware of it looming in the distance, but I didn't give it much thought because I thought I hadn't attached much importance to it. But really, I had. I had thought about how I would be gigantically pregnant in the dog days of summer. I thought about the kinds of clothes I would wear and what the baby would wear. I thought about how I would still have a few months to be able to go outside with the baby without bundling up. Because I had heard that glorious heartbeat, I assumed that by August 27th I would either be big as a house, in labor, or caring for a newborn for the first time.

That dream, as we know, was dashed to pieces only three weeks later. I went to the hospital six months too soon and the pregnancy was over, the baby gone. August 27 went from the symbolic day back to only my sister's birthday. But in the back of my mind, I kept it earmarked. Before I knew about the septum, I hoped, prayed, and even assumed that I would be pregnant again before that day. After everything I went through in five months, I still saw August 27th as the deadline for maximum possible joy. Luckily, I realized I'd have to be extremely fortunate to be blessed again already. (I'm not.)

So, yes, today has been difficult. I tortured myself by reading through chats and emails from before and after the miscarriage. I can't stop thinking about where I should be. Today has been a flood of memories, and while it feels healthy, it certainly doesn't feel good.

I had a chilling moment the other day. I was doing something insignificant and I thought of myself in the future, and I couldn't imagine myself pregnant. I had thoughts like that before I got pregnant the first time. "Other people have babies, but I can't possibly be worthy of something so wonderful," I thought. Even when I found out I was pregnant, I found it hard to believe. After my surgery, I found optimism and hope: I was certain that I would be pregnant again soon and that I would have a baby. But now I feel like that view has fizzled. Pregnancy is for other people; I'm not so lucky.

I know it will happen, but sometimes I don't believe it. Funny how that works.

But enough about me. Today is a day to remember our baby, the baby we will meet in heaven. We love you and we miss you, dear Keiki.

Comparison

I don't know why I was thinking about this the other day, but this is a post I had composed in my head shortly after my last surgery that I never got around to writing. But now I feel compelled, so here it is.

This is D&C and Septum Resection: A Comparison

Time of year
D&C: February 18, cold and blustery dead of winter
SR: June 27, gloriously sunny ideal summer day

Time of day
D&C: 6am, dark
SR: 8am, warm promise of a new day

Location
D&C: large hospital, parking garage, multiple wings, etc.
SR: Center for Surgery, not intimidating at all

Nature of Surgery
D&C: general anesthesia, performed via cervix, altering inside of the uterus
SR: same

Surgery preparation
D&C: no food or drink after midnight the night before, IV, pushed around in wheelchair/bed
SR: no food or drink after midnight the night before, IV, walked around myself when awake

Physical effects
D&C: pain, grogginess, feeling of rawness in the womb
SR: same, with slightly more pain

Psychological approach
D&C: sad, end of pregnancy, feeling of necessity to go through with it
SR: happy, joyful, beginning of hope for future pregnancy, spring in my step in the days leading up to it

Psychological effects
D&C: even more sadness in facing the loss, feeling of being thrown into a state of confusion and doubting ability to have children
SR: smile plastered to face, a sense of returning to normal and feeling completely renewed hope in having children


I really feel as though I've returned to normal in many ways. I am forever changed by my experiences, but they haven't destroyed me in any way. A few days ago, something compelled me to pick up and read the journal I wrote in right after my loss. The tears sprang up anew, which was okay because it reminded me that I'm human and will always be affected by my loss. But reading the confusion and doubt that I expressed in that long, cold winter reinforced my hope for the future.

Truth be told, I'm getting a little bit obsessed with TTC, but not in a totally crazy way. I'm enjoying learning about my body yet hoping not to have to wait too long before I'm expecting again. But, TTC is not the topic of this blog, so I'll leave you here. I just wanted to say, now that it's been six weeks since my surgery, that I am very happy and hopeful!