I was on birth control when I met Paul. I'd had multiple female issues, which ultimately led to a D&C in February 2007. I had a tumor on my cervix the size of a grape removed as well. My doctor diagnosed me with Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. This caused all kinds of hormonal imbalances. For this she prescribed birth control (and weight loss).
As Paul and I got closer and closer, we started talking about having a family. In April 2008, I went off the pill in preparation to start trying to conceive when we married in the Fall. We had planned on trying to have a wedding that October and figured six months would be plenty of time to get my cycle on track again. I took my last pill the day before my 26th birthday. Every time we made love after that, I'd wonder... is tonight the night I get pregnant?
After we eloped, I would occasionally purchase ovulation testers and would try to track when I was most fertile. There were a few times that I actually caught myself ovulating and was quick to get Paul in bed. My cycle was still weird, so it was not unusual in the least for there to be 3-4 months between periods. Every time I'd get any kind of "pregnancy symptom" I'd take a test. I had a handful of false positives with very faint lines and would retest a few days later and have a negative.
In December 2008, I was really feeling awful. I was just exhausted. Paul's brother's wife and his mom were asking me at Christmas if we were planning on having any kids yet. I told them we were trying and that I wasn't really up to trying as I was feeling sick. They looked at each other and grinned and said, "Sounds pregnant to me!" Everyone was excited for us to start having kids. I was scared it was never going to happen.
The next few months, I just started feeling worse. I was nauseous all the time. Then I got up one morning and started having really bad cramps. These were beyond anything I've ever felt. Then the bleeding started. It wasn't anything massive, so I wasn't worried. The next day I was feeling horrible, but I got up to go to work. I was driving for the Amish school at the time and had just left the house when my right, passenger side tire went FLYING OFF THE VAN. I immediately called Paul and he came to my rescue. When the tire flew off, the van jerked and my seat belt got really tight and it hurt my abdomen. I got home and the bleeding had intensified.
Sitting on the toilet, I felt something slide out of me. I sat there for a moment trying to take in what I knew had just happened. I put my face in my hands and I sobbed. I was terrified to tell Paul. I didn't want to disappoint him. I was scared he'd be mad at me. The whole day and into the weekend, I was popping advil and sleeping with a heating pad. I hurt so badly. I wanted Paul to climb in bed with me and just hold me and cry with me... but that's not how he handles things and even now... he denies that it happened. He said because I didn't go to the hospital, I was probably mistaken. I KNOW what happened. I saw it. I'll never forget it for as long as I live.
Since March, I've had only one faint positive line, followed by a negative test a few days later. My cycle was still off... periods were hit and miss. When Paul and I started seriously having trouble, I all but totally stopped eating. I couldn't keep anything down. There were nights that I sobbed myself to sleep and woke up wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die. Food was not an interest. I got really sick and my whole body hurt. I forced myself to eat a little here and there and I've now gotten myself up to about one meal a day or a few snacks, but I've lost almost twenty pounds.
Losing weight had snapped my cycle back in gear. A week ago, I started bleeding. It wasn't a normal period. It was light and it would stop and start, stop and start. Paul and I even had sex once when it was in a stop phase. It didn't seem... normal. So, after Paul and I had a fight yesterday, I went to the store and picked up a test.
I haven't said a word to Paul. I don't plan on it. If it's a false positive... or if I have another miscarriage... what good could possibly come from telling him? He doesn't want me. Whether there were a baby involved or not, he just doesn't want me. He wants freedom and to be done with everything we had. Yes, it hurts like hell... but I can't hold on to someone who doesn't want to be held on to. And I can't let him back in because he feels like he has to because of a baby... a baby that may or may not ever come to be.
I wish this were easier. I wish I could just sit down with Paul and talk to him like I used to be able to. I wish he were there with open arms for me... ready to catch me if I fell apart. I wish he could just hold me like he used to so that I felt safe again... even if just for a moment.
I know I'll get through this and come out better on the other side... but tonight... tonight I grieve for all that I've lost and there's nothing anyone can say to make it better.
Part eight to be continued...
As Paul and I got closer and closer, we started talking about having a family. In April 2008, I went off the pill in preparation to start trying to conceive when we married in the Fall. We had planned on trying to have a wedding that October and figured six months would be plenty of time to get my cycle on track again. I took my last pill the day before my 26th birthday. Every time we made love after that, I'd wonder... is tonight the night I get pregnant?
After we eloped, I would occasionally purchase ovulation testers and would try to track when I was most fertile. There were a few times that I actually caught myself ovulating and was quick to get Paul in bed. My cycle was still weird, so it was not unusual in the least for there to be 3-4 months between periods. Every time I'd get any kind of "pregnancy symptom" I'd take a test. I had a handful of false positives with very faint lines and would retest a few days later and have a negative.
In December 2008, I was really feeling awful. I was just exhausted. Paul's brother's wife and his mom were asking me at Christmas if we were planning on having any kids yet. I told them we were trying and that I wasn't really up to trying as I was feeling sick. They looked at each other and grinned and said, "Sounds pregnant to me!" Everyone was excited for us to start having kids. I was scared it was never going to happen.
The next few months, I just started feeling worse. I was nauseous all the time. Then I got up one morning and started having really bad cramps. These were beyond anything I've ever felt. Then the bleeding started. It wasn't anything massive, so I wasn't worried. The next day I was feeling horrible, but I got up to go to work. I was driving for the Amish school at the time and had just left the house when my right, passenger side tire went FLYING OFF THE VAN. I immediately called Paul and he came to my rescue. When the tire flew off, the van jerked and my seat belt got really tight and it hurt my abdomen. I got home and the bleeding had intensified.
Sitting on the toilet, I felt something slide out of me. I sat there for a moment trying to take in what I knew had just happened. I put my face in my hands and I sobbed. I was terrified to tell Paul. I didn't want to disappoint him. I was scared he'd be mad at me. The whole day and into the weekend, I was popping advil and sleeping with a heating pad. I hurt so badly. I wanted Paul to climb in bed with me and just hold me and cry with me... but that's not how he handles things and even now... he denies that it happened. He said because I didn't go to the hospital, I was probably mistaken. I KNOW what happened. I saw it. I'll never forget it for as long as I live.
Since March, I've had only one faint positive line, followed by a negative test a few days later. My cycle was still off... periods were hit and miss. When Paul and I started seriously having trouble, I all but totally stopped eating. I couldn't keep anything down. There were nights that I sobbed myself to sleep and woke up wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die. Food was not an interest. I got really sick and my whole body hurt. I forced myself to eat a little here and there and I've now gotten myself up to about one meal a day or a few snacks, but I've lost almost twenty pounds.
Losing weight had snapped my cycle back in gear. A week ago, I started bleeding. It wasn't a normal period. It was light and it would stop and start, stop and start. Paul and I even had sex once when it was in a stop phase. It didn't seem... normal. So, after Paul and I had a fight yesterday, I went to the store and picked up a test.
I haven't said a word to Paul. I don't plan on it. If it's a false positive... or if I have another miscarriage... what good could possibly come from telling him? He doesn't want me. Whether there were a baby involved or not, he just doesn't want me. He wants freedom and to be done with everything we had. Yes, it hurts like hell... but I can't hold on to someone who doesn't want to be held on to. And I can't let him back in because he feels like he has to because of a baby... a baby that may or may not ever come to be.
I wish this were easier. I wish I could just sit down with Paul and talk to him like I used to be able to. I wish he were there with open arms for me... ready to catch me if I fell apart. I wish he could just hold me like he used to so that I felt safe again... even if just for a moment.
I know I'll get through this and come out better on the other side... but tonight... tonight I grieve for all that I've lost and there's nothing anyone can say to make it better.
Part eight to be continued...
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