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Miscarried

I wrote the following Monday, July 12, 2010 just hours before I had a D&C procedure.

I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind. I write this with a lump in my throat.

The day before my son Lucas’ first birthday, got a positive pregnancy test. We had only been “trying” for two weeks! Can you say fertile? Stranger things have happened.

Learning I was pregnant for the first time was one of the most exciting days of my life. Not only is it a major milestone on the path of adulthood, it is one of the most joyous experiences you will ever have. I will never forget the day I found out I was pregnant with Lucas. I cried tears of happiness, excitement, and fear.

Learning I was pregnant a second time was a little more shocking for me. I had just gotten back to my pre-pregnancy weight and into my favorite jeans. The hair around my face was starting to grow back and I was FINALLY starting to get the hang of this “mommy thing.” The tears this time came from pure disbelief. I was excited but also troubled by how our perfect little family of three was going to change. I was mostly concerned with how this new addition would affect Lucas and how I might handle two under two. Doing the quick calculations, Lucas and his sibling would be almost 21 months apart.

I thought I was nine weeks along at my first OB/GYN visit when an ultrasound revealed that I was only measuring at six weeks. We were told we could have our dates off.

I’m pretty good (obsessive) with dates and knew deep down inside that something was terribly wrong.

My doctor ordered blood work to check my hCG (the pregnancy hormone) levels and more ultrasounds a week later. Unfortunately, my hCG levels dropped and we learned last Thursday that there had been no growth to the embryo since week six. I had a terrific pregnancy with my son, so why would I think anything would or could go wrong with this one? I certainly felt pregnant.

But, in the end, my gut was right. There was something wrong and this pregnancy wasn’t meant to be.

Of course, we’ll never know exactly what went wrong. Why did this happen to us? What went wrong? Did I do something different this time around? Will it happen again?

I know that miscarriage is far more common than we like to think and often times there are no answers. I’ll have to accept that. Eventually.

All I know right now is that this hurts. I’m sad and because I don’t want to wait around for my body to have a natural miscarriage, I have a D & C (a procedure to scrape and collect the tissue from inside the uterus) scheduled for this afternoon.

Please keep those of us who have been through this terrible ordeal in your thoughts. Thank you.

To The Girl Next In Line

Dear Girlfriend #3,

I wish I could give you this warning in person, but I know that you would confront your new boyfriend about it. And if he found out that I warned you, I wouldn’t be here at all…

That being said, there are some things you need to know.

Your new boyfriend is abusive. He will not show you that now. I didn’t see it until about three months into our relationship. I am sure he has told you about his ex-wife and I. How we are “crazy” and “evil.” I’m sure he has told you how badly we have fucked up his life and broke his heart.

Please take this opportunity to look him up online, in every capacity you can conceive.

He has had two restraining orders filed on him. He is registered as a batterer at four different domestic violence shelters in this state – those are just the ones I am aware of.

I had to move a state away to hide from him.

He is charming and he is handsome. He will make promises that he will never keep. His family enables his abusive behavior and will never turn on him if you say something. They have, and will continue to, sit idly by while he hurts you.

Stay away from him when he is drunk as that is when he is the worst. He will humiliate you, degrade you, and do whatever he feels is appropriate while he is inebriated.

I’m sorry I can’t tell you this directly. I wish there was more I could do without risking my own personal safety.

Watch for the red flags. The weird text messages, the unusual possessiveness and questions about your friends and whereabouts. Question his previous relationships and what happened. Try and talk to his exes.

See what you find out.

We’re on the same team, you know. Womankind and all of that. It took me years to get out and it will take me years to heal. You don’t deserve that.

Nobody does.

Sincerely,

Girlfriend #2

Can I Have A Do-Over?

October 15, 1999. That was the day my life changed. At the time, I thought it was for the better. Eleven years later, I know it was the beginning of a slow, painful, downward spiral.

That was the day I started dating the “man of my dreams.” He was tall and handsome and the captain of the football team. As a high school sophomore, he was everything a girl could ask for in a boyfriend.

The first 2 years were great. We went to sporting events and parties. We were the stereotypical high school sweethearts. Our senior year we split up. The breakup didn’t last long. Soon he was begging me to come back and I did. He went off to college in a different state, but we still tried to make it work.

Over the next 4 years we broke up and made up quite a bit. I told myself this was due to the college lifestyle. I tried to convince myself that girls flocked to him because he was a college football player. Those excuses I made would lead me into years of hiding my misery with excuses.

In February 2006 he proposed. It was probably the worst proposal imaginable. I was in bed, covered in hives from an allergic reaction. He sat on the end of the bed, handed me a box and said, “You’re gonna be my wife”. Now that I look back on it, it completely lacked any romance and was more of a command than a proposal.

In June 2006, he graduated, moved back home and I started planing the wedding. These plans were short lived because shortly after his return we split up again. He could not put the college life behind him and would stay out all night to party. Once again we made up and on February 18, 2007, we were married.

There was no “honeymoon” period. We started having problems the first week of our marriage. We argued constantly. He lived a completely separate life from me. But, I was expected to be home at all times.

After the first year, the relationship came crashing down pretty quickly. He had been caught numerous times “talking” to other women. He started to control my life completely. He decided who I could be friends with, when I could go out and where I could go. He would degrade me and soon my self esteem was so low that I started to question everything about myself.

It wasn’t until I met up with an old friend and started discussing the situation that I realized it was emotional abuse. He was manipulating everything in my life for one sole purpose – to control me! I decided to put my foot down, to take a stand and hold my ground. This only helped to confirm that abuse I had been tolerating for so long.

During one fight in May 2009, I told him I was done listening to him and that I was going to leave. He took my car keys and cell phone. I told him I would walk to my mother’s house, which was right around the corner. He stood in front of the stairs and blocked me from leaving. He called 911 and told the operator that his wife was overdosing and to send an ambulance. I was in shock. What was happening?

When the police arrived, he refused to answer the door. When I answered and spoke to the cop he said “you don’t look like you’re overdosing.” I told him I most definitely was not. The cop called the dispatcher and canceled the ambulance. After the cops left, I asked him why he did that. His response sickened me. He said “I just thought it would be funny to see them pump your stomach.” At this very moment, I realized what a sick and dysfunctional person he was.

All this time I had been blind. I made excuses to hide my pain. Somewhere deep inside me, he was still the captain of the football team, the man of my dreams. I didn’t let myself see the selfishness, deception, and manipulation. I made excuses over and over. Not for him but for me. I tried to convince myself he was someone else. The man of my dreams.

On June 23, 2009, he moved out and filed for divorce. He had lost his control and he couldn’t accept it. He did not want a relationship with someone who could stand up for herself.

For years I have thought to myself, ”Why can’t I have a do-over?” Why can’t I go back to the first break-up and never look back. Well, this past year has not been easy. It has been the hardest time of my life. Through all the court and lawyers and chaos he still tries to control me. He tries to have the upper hand and make all of the agreements. Everything is a battle. But this time I am holding my ground and standing up for myself!

I am proud to say that I have my “do-over”. I am dating my best friend and everyday he shows me what a real man, a real relationship, is like. He amazes me with his support and understanding. He builds up my confidence instead of tearing it down. After years of living in the dark and not knowing myself, my eyes have been opened and it is my time to shine!

A Letter I Can’t Send: Dear Mama and Daddy

Dear Mama & Daddy,

Well, here it is…September again. It seems like it should get easier. And some years it even does. But, for some reason, this year is hard. Mama, September 3 is now and forever will be the day you went away. And Daddy, September 21 will always be the day you left.

I miss you both so much. Daddy, you never got to meet Tabitha, but you would have been crazy about her. You would have called her “Sport Model”. You would have goosed her in the ribs with your finger stub just like you did me, and she would have hated it and loved it at the same time just like I did. I wish you could have known her. And I hope that you can see her from where you are.

Mama…oh God, where do I start? I hate, hate, hate the cancer that took you away. I’m glad you’re not hurting anymore, but my God. You always said that you wouldn’t want Grandma to come back because it would mean she would have to suffer again. I can’t say that. I’d take you back in a heartbeat and give you medicine to help you not suffer. I’m so sorry that I didn’t wake up that morning when you called me. That morning when your pelvis was broken and you tried to get up to use the bathroom. The doctor said that you falling back on the bed didn’t break your pelvis. That your pelvis was broken before you ever tried to get up because the cancer was in your bones. But still. If I could have a do-over, I sure would take it.

And Daddy, don’t think that all my guilt is reserved for Mama. I haven’t forgotten that time I ran off for a week and worried you so much and left you alone. You remember that song by Travis Tritt? Tell Me You Didn’t Say Goodbye? Well, I still can’t hear that song without losing it. Even after all this time.

Mama…Daddy…I’m sorry. I wasn’t the daughter I should have been. And I didn’t realize it until it was too late. I hope there really is a Heaven. And I hope that the two of you are together there. And I hope that you both can see all the way into my heart and know that even though I failed you both miserably, I always loved you and thought you were the very best parents anyone ever had. And I hope to see you both again someday.

Charles Franklin Brunson

March 1941 ~ September 1995

Virginia Faye Brunson

January 1943 ~ September 2008

Drowning

We just finished a battle to keep custody of the Duckling. Total cost of the whole court battle and everything associated with it totals about a year of private school tuition.  It’s completely drained our savings and there are still bills that we don’t know how we’re going to pay. Duck and I are drowning in thoughts of debt and what that does to our future dreams.

The worst part? This whole damn custody battle was because Duck’s ex-wife wanted to drag him through the mud. She filed for full custody. Custody is still shared. THERE WAS NO POINT TO HOW MUCH MONEY WAS SPENT.

It’s killing me.