Some sort of closure

It is therapeutic to blog. I'm sure that's been said many times before. And here is my need to get something off my chest.

I had recently had a miscarriage. There.

The admission of this is the start of what I hope is closure of sorts. I havn't really admitted this to myself - just to a few around me. When they've asked to talk about it, I just smiled and responded that I'm fine. Truth is, I didn't even realise I was preggie. We were of course trying and for some time now too, though with the pressures of everyday life, timing was always off.

Each month brought about a wave of dispair - mainly for me - since B didn't really get why I was so impatient to have another child. He was too busy falling in love with our current one.

I had seen my midwife earlier this year telling her my frustration what with erratic cycles that could go up to nearly 35/36 days (a new record for clock work me!) and asking if I should seek professional help. She sent me back with some kind words telling me to ease up work stress, take a holiday and enjoy the process. No, I don't want to do any tests on you, she says, cos you've been preggie before.

The difference is, I told her, I didn't really know how to MAKE a baby, since the last one wasn't planned for. I'm bad at planning too, to say the very least. At least for my personal life. Her solution was for me to chart and boy, was that a tedious piece of homework which just further excerbated my stress levels. So I decided to give myself a month or two off from charting.

A week before my anticipated period, I was feeling pukish. I had episodes like that late last year and the family medicine practioner had told me that low BP could cause nausea too. So I told myself to suck it up, stop being paranoid and just grab my seng buay sweets.

Work was super busy and I was on standby to train our newly integrated Taiwan team, commence annual appraisals and meet a few deadlines. Physical discomfort will have to be set aside. Interestingly enough, the first day of my period arrived slightly sooner then I had calculated. Oh well, me and my erractic cycles - so I never gave it much thought. Mentally, I did note that the discharge was much heavier than usual and I was feeling much weaker than usual.

I kept myself at my desk and my staff would occassionally pop by and comment that I looked off color. I still remember that it was a Tuesday. Almost Day 3 of my DYM. I had told B in the am that I was feeling very bad and he asked me to stay home to rest. I told him better not, video conference meeting this am, maybe after the meeting. I even wore a new pair of heels in order to compensate my "yucksy" feeling and crappy dressing. Typical isn't it? I remember dragging myself to the videoconference amidst settling a slew of emails and telling myself that I hope I can make it through. I sat down and basically kept my head low as it took a lot of effort to even raise my head to look into the screen.

After the 2.5 hour meet, I stood up and immediately felt a gush in between my legs. Queer, I thought and rushed off to the bathroom. I wondered why Day 3 of my period was still so heavy. One of my staff decided to wait outside for me. Thankfully she did as I didn't feel that good to walk back to my desk and it was knowing that she was there that helped comfort me.

Queer how the human mind works. I recall walking into the lift and nearly passing out, it was only because I had held on to the banister in the lift that stopped me from slipping onto the floor. I barely made it back to my room. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to locate my director who had a lunch meeting and had to persist for 2 hours before he got back.

We spoke on the phone and he reliased that I was in very bad shape and let me go. The pad that I had since 3/4 hours ago was throughly soaked through. I shut the door to my office and changed a new pad. To my horror, it was again almost fully soaked in less than 2 minutes.

I then decided to head to the hospital and by God's grace managed to get into a cab that took me to the hospital about 30-40 minutes away. When they finally called my name for consultation, the nurse had to help carry my bags cos I could hardly stand. I couldn't even really lift my head and talk and she rushed to get the MD in.

The MD called for all sorts of tests and the nurses started an IV and tried to ask me many questions. Unfortunately all I could really say was that I don't feel good and couldn't get enough words out to really describe how I felt. The nurses also freaked out when my bp started dropping really low.

The MD had told me later on that they were all ready to admit me as I couldn't even lift my hands by myself and had to be assisted. Anyway, to cut a harrowing experience short, turns out they suspect I have a miscarriage. Something that on hindsight, I concluded is probably right as I was passing out a lot of clots and what with all the symptoms. Plus I was so pale it actually looked fasionable.

Mom later on asked me how could I not know...till today, I can only berate myself for not listening to my own instincts. It was an early one though, so early that I didn't even know to test for it.

What do I say and how do I feel? I really am not sure. Its not like there is really something to mourn as at that time I didn't even realise something had formed. It does make it even tougher when well meaning friends and family tell me its time to have another one.

A part of me wants to scream and wail and throw a good ole tantrum, yet the civil part of me politely smiles and amicably nods. I didn't allow myself much down time and stubbornly took up flying to BJ, Taiwan and HK after just a 3 days of MC. Its text book symptoms of avoidance I know.

I keep telling myself that I need to move on and be positive. Not to let this experience get me down. A friend reminds me that God's timing is best and it will happen when the time is right. Yes, that's true and I patiently await.