Saturday, May 17, 2008

Draining**

That's how my day was.

*First, today is CD2. As I previously discussed with my doctor, we decided to re-do all the fertility and pcos testing since it's been about 2 years and I'm inching towards 38 in a couple of months. Doctor waved to me as he went from one appointment to another. Nice nurse drew blood for FSH, E2, LH, TSH, Testo.sterone, DHEAS, Prola.ctin, Creati.nine.

At 8am today, the office was rocking. I've only seen the office that full a couple times in the (on and off) 2 years I've been going to this clinic. They usually schedule things far enough apart so you don't see many people. In the waiting room was a "husband/partner", and a family. Yes, a family: man, woman and child. Yes, a child in the waiting room of the fertility clinic. He was about 18 months old, maybe. Running around and squealing. He took his shoe off and giggled. Loudly. This morning was one of 2 or 3 times I've had to wait, but it was with the family. The child even walked up to me as I was studiously avoiding his gaze by reading on my b-berry.

Usually, I try to be sympathetic when people bring small children with them to the clinic. Maybe the babysitter canceled. Grandma was sick. But you know what? If you have to bring your child with you? Keep him in your lap. Bring a book so he can sit quietly. Take him outside to run around until you're called for your appointment. And for god's sake keep him away from the other infertiles. Keep. Him. Quiet.

Results will be back Tuesday, probably. This may give us an idea of how much time we have to play with (ha, play) and what if any additional challenges we may face.

*I decided to go to the service. I really didn't decide until this morning. Last night, C said he really didn't want to go. He had his own way, his own plan to memorialize the boys. And if there was threat of "god talk," he didn't want it.

It was good that he didn't go. There was plenty of god talk. Four or five readings. J, my grief counselor was there, handing out the programs and the readings. She's so good. She knew not to give me one. There was one verse about Nathan and seeing his dead son or something? I don't know, I just hear in my head "seeing his son dead," "seeing my dead son." Christ on a bike. Oh, and my favorite bit was "blessed are the mourners." Blessed? What?? How did I get so lucky to be blessed? The minister said he had a stillborn son. He talked about grieving his mother, a cousin who died when they were both eight. Blessed?

I really don't understand. I mean, I guess I understand, but I really don't appreciate it. Screw you. Bless this.

And I know C would have stalked off cursing. It just made me cry more. I got through the service, there were other parts that were okay. The reading of names (as requested by parents) was very sad. I didn't rsvp so they didn't read the boys' names. If they had, I would have just been a freaking, sobbing mess. J, who lost a little girl at 20 weeks almost 30 years ago, handed out white roses. People placed them on stones. She gave me two roses, one for each of my sons. I didn't place them. I didn't want to let go of them. One of the nurses sang, someone brought a therapy dog. It was nice to see people, but so sad, too. Someone said this was the biggest turnout they'd had in a long time. Some there were older sibs of a lost baby. There were probably 3 kids around 7 to 10 years old.

Because I was alone, J came and stood with me for parts of the service, put her arm around me and we both cried. Before and after the service, she (re)introduced me to the nurses who attended. A couple of them were familiar, a few weren't. She introduced me by saying my name, and that my due date is tomorrow (I actually had a few). It was weird. Several of the nurses came straight from their shift. There were no doctors there.

One of the nurses, Sara, greeted me with a genuine hug. She had taken care of me one of the days we had come back to the hospital, when I was afraid I was going into labor (I wasn't) and she spent a lot of time with us that day, just talking with us. When her shift ended that day, she said something very sweet about us being a wonderful couple, and that it was an honor for her to be with us during this time. When we had come back, thinking we were going to be able to induce here at our local hospital, Sara was on duty, and asked to be our nurse for the delivery. She was so so sweet. Today, when I told her about my sister, she closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. She remembered something my dad had talked about the day of the almost-induction almost 5 months ago. Very personal, very kind.

*Went to a chain jewelry store and found a garnet ring to memorialize the boys. It's a heart-shaped stone in a bezel with a teeny, teeny tiny chip of a diamond on either side. There were other fancier rings that I liked, too, but this was simple. And there was enough symbolism with the birthstone and the heart between two little gems. It's not something I would normally pick (no hearts!), but I think it's good, simple, appropriate. I'll try to take a picture and post it. Unfortunately, this ring was small enough (size 5.5!), that there was not really room for engraving on the inside. But the symbols are enough. I know what it means.

And so we got home around 5 or so. I'm exhausted.

On a Saturday, 36 weeks ago today, I had the IUI in which I conceived Jacob and Joshua. Technically, I'm at 40 weeks today -- or would be. Official due date on Monday. I don't know what I'll do for the day.

In the meantime, I left the roses outside, threaded through the handle of the railing on our stoop. No balloons proclaiming "It's a boy!" Just 2 white roses.

Blessed are the mourners.


**By the way, thank you for your responses to my questions. It did help me decide whether or not to go. While the religious aspect did not suit me, I think I'm glad I went. Even if it was draining. Don't know if I'd go again, but it gave me a lot to think about, at the very least.

11 comments:

Newt said...

Wow, what a day. I hope it helps that you can memorialize Jacob and Joshua every day here on your blog. I think of them, and you and C, often, and wish you all peace.

The ring sounds beautiful, and perfect.

Tash said...

Phew. I hope with the tests behind for the mo you can pour yourself a glass of wine and unwind.

I meant to say something about the religion, and I'm sorry I didn't. I was very fortunate that Children's is so big and draws kids worldwide that their services are ecumenical but without much mention of God (e.g., there's a priest, a rabbi, a minister, and they all say nice things none of which are horribly offensive) and the audience includes women in chadors, so I'm glad that it's just assumed that you'll seek help from whomever necessary.

But I'm leery based on reports of other services, and I'm sorry you had to listen to that. One of our neighbors, a liberal Catholic, dedicated a service to Maddy at the local church -- which is not horribly liberal. And thank god Bella acted up so we walked around the grounds while Mr. sat through the service with neighbor, and apparently following the call to prayer for Maddy was one "for our president and unborn children." I woulda thrown something.

Here's to decompression.

Ya Chun said...

Sorry to hear about your day.
I would have flipped at the religiousy stuff too. I just don't get how that is a comfort to anyone.
I am looking forward to participating in the OCtober day of remembrance. even if it is in my own backyard. Maybe I will invite all the IRL people I know who have lost children (I know more now than I did before, because they have told me)
I also don't get the "bring your child to your IF treatments". They are so caught up in their own business that they don't think about others I guess. Maybe if it happens again go up to the counter and say loud enough that you will wait out in the hall or outside because it is too hard for you to be around children. And the nurse can chase you down.
At least you went to the service. I think if you had skipped it you would always wonder. Now you know.
~a

Busted said...

I'm proud of you for going. The ring sounds like a perfect tribute to your boys. I'll be thinking of you this week, hoping you get through it ok.

P.S. - there's a spot in this post where I think you may have accidentally spelled out your husband's name, instead of using "C", in case you want to revise.

STE said...

Thanks for your support, everyone. And thanks for the head's up, Busted, I must have been distracted. Oops.

Amy said...

STE,
I am glad you went, I guess I know what I have to look forward to today, a lot of tears!

I am thinking of you, with tests and all and wishing only the best for you in the days to come.

XO Amy

Amy said...

P.S.,
I only had to Iris bloom yesterday and I thought of your boys when they came up. It was a nice thought to think maybe, just maybe, your boys are touching me too.

CLC said...

I am glad you went. Sometimes it's just nice to cry with different people. And I am glad you saw that nurse. I always think about the nurse who helped me through my delivery. She seems like an angel to me!
I hope the tests go well for you and I am thinking of you today and the next few days. And I am thinking about Jacob and Joshua, wishing they were here in your arms.

G said...

Strange, I was at my clinic on Friday and it was the first time I saw a child there too. It was distracting. He was a bit older though, but still. Sounds like you and I are having the same tests right now.

I am glad you went, religious crap or not. The jewels sound beautiful, I hope you will post a picture. I am thinking of you and the boys.

Antigone said...

When do you get the test results back? What's the next step? More tests?

I can't imagine going to a ceremony like that - if only because I think I'd fall apart. I went to my first support group meeting a few weeks ago and spent the entire time trying not to sob. I don't like being confronted with everything that has happened.

Julia said...

It must've been heart wrenchingly hard, but in a way I am glad you went. if for nothing else, than because you got to see Sara again. To know that she remembers and is so deeply affected... I hope there was a drop of comfort in that.