The journey back to me

I have on occasion joked with my husband that when something happens that upsets me, for example the day our pool pump, air conditioner and fridge blew up I said to him that "It felt like a tiny piece of my soul had snapped off and died." On the morning I woke up to find out I had lost my baby a chunk of my soul broke off and left me laying there totally incapable of recognising myself. I didn't look like me when I looked in the mirror, I didn't sound like me when I spoke, I didn't feel like me physically,mentally or spiritually.

When I went to the shower I wouldn't look in the mirror, when I walked around the ward I wouldn't look for my reflection, when I did see my reflection I didn't recognise it. It was a total out of body experience on every level. I hadn't just lost my baby, I had lost me too.

There were a few contributing factors at the time. The surgery, like most surgeries left me feeling like I had been hit by a succession of buses. Double decker ones at that. The swelling in my legs made me feel like a baby elephant that had gone all homo errectus on the planet. I was so embarrassed I had the choice of a male nurse or my husband to shower me...hmmm.....it was a toss up let me tell you. Do I go with the guy I don't know, who doesn't care and in a couple of weeks will never have to see again, or do I go with the guy who loves me immensely, who still looks scared at the thought of losing me and who can compare this monstrosity of a body to the one he married merely 6 months earlier? Well as far as hubby was concerned there was no choice, another bit of my soul snapped off and died.

One day my husband said to me he was surprised I had any pieces left. I couldn't help but wonder, how much of "me" was left behind? Where had I gone and was I ever coming back.

After my recovery the knee jerk reaction was buying a property on the mainland. One that we cant afford, had to borrow up to the eyeballs for and well to be honest is falling apart at the seams.My son names the houses we have lived in, the new house, the blue house and now he calls our house, "the rusty old house"  I was shocked, we have lived in some shocking houses in appalling environments and he calls the one house that we have actually financially invested in "the rusty old house" I understand that our 4 year old doesn't envision the potential my husband and I saw in this house when we bought it. I was pretty young when I learnt the lesson, "don't try and fix someone with potential when they cant see it themselves"

 My house doesn't see its potential, my house has been hit by a succession of buses.  I'm starting to believe that our house is a reflection of me. We repair, patch and recover what we can with what little resources we have and just when we think we are moving forward we fall 3 steps behind. Its not my imagination and I'm not over exaggerating which I have been known to do. With reference to the fridge pool and air conditioner earlier on, this is not a joke.All 3 blew up in one day!! We called in the electrician believing that there must have been a surge through the house.It couldn't possibly have been a coincidence, we couldn't possibly be that unlucky could we? Yep....it was and we can!!

I was the one stupid enough one day to mention that the only room in this house that doesn't need work is the toilet. Within a few days the cistern fell off. I ask myself what is going on? I ask my husband, to which the reply is just a shake of the head and a lie down.

I was beginning to be consumed by all the events surrounding me. I felt like I was picked up and placed on a shelf,out of the way so that everything else could be dealt with. I didn't have the time to deal with me, everything else is falling apart. My healing can wait, my grieving can wait, my soul can wait, I can wait!

Truth is...you don't wait. In actual fact you fall to bits and wonder why everything around you is in tatters. My sister refers to it as "the universe poking its finger in your eye" I knew I wasn't myself but i wasn't going to admit to anyone let alone myself that I wasn't coping.

My Mum bit the bullet and wrote a card to the angry beast that used to be me, and dared to broach the subject of "therapy" I was angry, I wanted to slap her across the face and tell her if anyone needed therapy it was her. Which in a lot of ways is true however, when I took a deep breath and thought about it, godammit she was right, again. It doesn't matter how many times it has happened or how right she is it always shits me. So even though I knew she was right it still took another 4 weeks before I would talk to her about it.

I caught up with an old friend who has since become a reiki practitioner. She told me Reiki was really good for treating post traumatic stress which is what I diagnosed myself with after searching my symptoms on the internet.As you do! God knows I'm not going to a doctor, well for one I have a few major trust issues after what happened to me in the beginning and two I have a major phobia of anti depressants.(which doesn't make any sense I know because they are used to rid the mind of phobias)  can anyone hear Alannis in the background singing "Isn't it ironic??"

So.....I booked in with a reiki practitioner. After one session I felt more positive in my outlook. I didn't have a panic attack for 8 days which had been a daily occurrence up until then.I slept through the night. I suddenly had a much more positive outlook on everything (including the house), I felt safe and hadn't had the urge to bawl my eyes out at all for the first time since my surgery.

I have had 2 sessions now, and both times I have had a very positive response. I recommend contacting a local reiki practitioner if you are on a journey of healing yourself. I didn't think it would work for me but it has made a huge difference to my life in such a short period of time.

I would love to try for another baby,but I am reluctant to start until I feel like I have healed from what has happened to me. I need to feel like a whole person again before I can honestly say I am ready for a baby. Its hard knowing that my chances of conceiving are much lower than what they were before my ectopic pregnancy and the chances of another ectopic are quite high. (15% chance) Tic Toc ....   Tic Toc ....

This is the start of my journey back to me. Its a slow start, Ive come across a few red lights and round-abouts along the way but I'm giving it a red hot go regardless. I am determined and willing to do anything to put all of my pieces back together.

We came home yesterday to the sound of a waterfall streaming off the side of our roof. It turns out the hot water system blew up while we were out looking for a new toilet. "No way you say?" Oh Yes way....yes....way!!!!!!So its sponge baths for the next few nights until we can afford a plumber. What was that? Did I hear another piece of my soul just snap off ?

Even though it feels as though the universe permanently has its finger in my eye, I will try to be positive and believe that everything will be okay.
Please let me know your coping mechanism? What advice were you given that helped you to heal? Please suggest something for me to do to help me on my journey!


Think pink

Janey

To grieve or not to grieve an ectopic pregnancy?

I went back to hospital for my post surgery check up with the Obstetrician a week after discharge. He informed me that my HCG levels had dropped accordingly, he removed my staples, he noticed that I was experiencing more than just a bit of discomfort so he prescribed me some more medication and then he referred to my notes.

He asked me if I had been given any information about the procedure. I had been given a lot of information about what had happened, but I didn't know the technical jargon. The name of the procedure, what its called to have your tube removed etc etc...so he informed me that I had received an emergency laparotomy and a salpingectomy, where the surgeon had no choice but to remove the right tube. All of the tissue had been removed, all be it large amount of tissue and he was confident that with the drop in my HCG levels there would be no further complications.

Tissue? A surprisingly large amount of tissue? I sometimes wonder if the tissue looked like this?

I remember my response was "my family has a history of big babies" and he just looked at me and smiled. He hoped to see me again, next time with a baby in my uterus.

I wonder if medically a baby is only referred to as a baby if it is viable. At seven weeks and two days my embryo had 10 fingers ten toes and a pumping heart. There wasn't anything wrong with the embryo, it was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I put pressure on myself to treat this entire incident like I have stacked it on a flight of stairs. Stand up, brush myself off, make sure I'm physically okay, thank everyone around me who helped me (rather than standing there pissing themselves laughing) and go home and wait for the bruises. Its not like that though. Apart from the fact what happened to me would not win a prize on funniest home videos, it hurts like hell that what could have been didn't happen.

Ive read that when women experience an ectopic pregnancy some mourn for the baby and others do not refer to it or think of it as a baby at all. Im somewhere in between. Having a beautiful 4 yr old boy helps I think. It would be much harder if the ectopic had been my first pregnancy. I have days where I think about all the different combinations mine and my husbands chromosomes could create and what our baby would have looked like. Then I have other days where I just feel lucky to be alive and have the ability to hop back on the horse and try again. Its bazaar.

 Which led me to the question, what is grief anyway?

Jana Rubenstein, M.Ed., LPC says, " Grief is the label for the set of emotional, cognitive, behavioural and physical reactions that are seen following the death of a loved one. Normal grief responses may include denial, emotional numbing, anger, rage, rushes of anxiety (pangs), sadness, fear, confusion, difficulty sleeping, regression in children, stomach upset, loss of appetite, "hysterical materialisation"  and many other potential symptoms. These symptoms are similar to those often seen in the acute post-traumatic period.



Yep....that sound like me.Yesterday was tough. My husband was cooking up a ginger beer home brew and I was sitting in the shed watching him prep for bottling when I saw all of our baby gear. Pram, high chair, jolly jumper, bassinet, cot, baby bath ahhhhh..I don't avoid it.I know its there, and it hasn't bothered me before. Its not new, it all belonged to my son but for some reason it touched a nerve and the tears began to fall. I felt pathetic. Just when I think I'm dealing with it all I lose it. Ill be going great for a week then "Boom" back to the crying board. Ive been told this is what grief does.  I don't understand though, why am I grieving something that was hardly a blip on the existence radar? Solution? I took a pair of garden shears and hacked at my garden. I thought maybe I am grieving the loss of my fallopian tube and grieving the loss of my overall fertility.I took a few slices off my arms and legs with the pesty bougainvillea but I felt better afterwards. I think I needed a bit of grounding and gardening is fantastic for the soul. I surrounded myself in green, the colour of the heart chakra which coincidentally is the chakra directly effected by grief.

If you have had an ectopic pregnancy, please let me know if you experienced or are still experiencing grief. Do you have any tips for overcoming grief to share?

I will not let this loss consume me however it has changed me and I'm determined to make this change for the better.

Today is another day.

Think pink

Janey