7 days and the world has crashed.

March 27th, 2012

I saw my midwife yesterday for help with sleeping and eating. I’ve lost 4 lbs. in 2 weeks. She gave me nausea medication that has a drowsy side effect and she said it should help me sleep. I told her I wanted the big guns, but because she’s a good midwife she’s giving me the least possible prescription to see how I react to it. The ironic part is that I went to her to have an unmedicated, natural, no interventions birth. I had a no interventions miscarriage, and now that it’s over I just want to be knocked out, but she’s keeping me around even when I’m asking for the drugs. I think we could’ve had my dream delivery together.

She says the nausea is still the pregnancy symptoms. I don’t believe it is. I haven’t had pregnancy symptoms since the last appointment two weeks ago.

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I won’t need a D&C. My body did what it was supposed to do and got that baby out. Logically, I know everything is working the way it’s supposed to. But I still hate my body for it. Yesterday was an especially hard day physically. I was stuck in bed in pain and bleeding, still.

***

She said something to me that made it final. I lost my baby. I’ve been dealing with the traumatic effects of what my body did, what I felt, what I saw, that I haven’t yet had a chance to deal with the rest of it. I have nightmares about what I saw, what I held, and what my body had to do to me. The thought of having a dead baby in me makes me sick to my stomach. I’m having a harder time with this than I thought I would. I’m sure grieving the loss of what could have been will be difficult as well, but I’m not ready to go there yet. You flush goldfish down the toilet, I’m ripped to shreds over what I had to do.

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Yesterday at around 5:30 PM we got a call from my mother and father-in-law. They needed to make a few decisions that would determine the end of Jackie’s life. We immediately left, even though I could barely move. I threw up twice on the way to the hospital. At the ICU we said our goodbyes. Jackie’s family and friends were all there. As you can imagine it was very sad. If there were a sadder, more painful word to use I would use it. But I don’t have that word.

Rustin is doing okay. As well as he can be. If it weren’t for Jackie we wouldn’t be together right now. We wouldn’t be married, in Utah, with a cute boy. So, I’m forever grateful to her for inadvertently keeping us together. She’ll never know how much she changed my life.

At the hospital I was completely numb. I couldn’t feel a thing. Not in my heart and not in my hands. I was just numb. This all too much. Seeing her children cry for their mother was too much. This is too much.

She passed at 9:29 PM last night.

We got her 10-year-old boy some yellow Daffodils this morning because he wanted to plant them for her. I’m just crushed and so is everyone else.

We’re preparing a funeral. This is unreal.

Writing her Obituary is impossible.

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Over and over, I can’t thank you enough. All of your kind words are more helpful than you can imagine right now. We read every one of them and we feel you in your words. Thank you.