Podcast Love

I have been pleasantly surprised by the quality of discussion surrounding pregnancy loss and the impact it has on the self as well as relationships. Last week I posted a link to an article that I thought was really smart, featuring a man's point of you, which is almost unheard of. This week I want to share a link to a podcast from "The Longest Shortest Time" (a podcast definitely worth checking out). I don't want to give too much away but this particular episode centers around a miscarriage and the inability to discuss it with your partner. I love podcasts (hello Serial!) so when I came across this particular one I was intrigued. Take a listen at http://bit.ly/1ugC2ND and let me know what you think!

- Jennifer

The Other Side of Things

After a pregnancy loss most of the attention is on the mother, understandably so, however the partner is often times overlooked and going through their own pain and grief that is just as unbearable. I always made sure that my husband was being heard and felt safe expressing what he was feeling, because I could literally sense his sadness as deeply as I felt my own. I knew he was hurting and I cried for him as much as I cried for myself and our loss. I always felt that the partner kind of got the short end of the stick in these situations and deserved to be heard just as much as the grieving mother which is why I loved this article from O Magazine. It is really lovely because it is written from the male perspective, which is just as important to hear...

- Jennifer

Blue Christmas.... and Thanksgiving... and Easter....

Below is a post that I wrote around this time last year after yet another miscarriage. I didn't know that a blog was in my future, but I felt like getting my thoughts down on paper since the grief my husband and I were going through- around Christmas no less- was suffocating. I saved it and thought now would be a good time to share it with all of you. This is a tough season, one that is centered around constantly being "joyful" and it is also considered a children's holiday- sort of a double whammy if you are dealing with a pregnancy loss. I really hope that my experience helps some of you...
                                                                      
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My miscarriages are always so ill-timed. Well, I guess there is never a good time, but mine always happen right before a holiday. The pattern was right around Easter, which (bonus!) always seems to be right near Mother's Day, and Thanksgiving. But last year after so much optimism and excitement, the rug was pulled out from under from me three weeks before Christmas. My husband and I were feeling so euphoric and looked forward to having my first trimester end right around the New Year. We thought it was such a fitting way to celebrate the holiday season; it all felt so serendipitous. Unfortunately the universe had other plans, and last year we found ourselves in a state of such disappointment and depression that my anger took over. I was so pissed that yet again loss was going to crap all over my favorite time of year. That my husband and I couldn't catch a break, and would have to spend another holiday season opening Christmas cards from friends with their kids on the front, knowing that another year has passed us by without children. 
I was venting my frustration to Kira shortly after and she said to me, "Take it back. Take back the holiday. Each day take something back for yourself." I thought about it and realized that it was the perfect piece of advice. I was just angry enough that it helped me get to a point of retaliation. I wanted to get back at the universe and assume some sort of control. Each day I tried something small;  I baked cookies, I pulled out the Christmas decorations, and unabashedly listened to Wham's "Last Christmas" on repeat. Though I still cried every day and had a difficult time reconciling that my expectations and hopes were yet again thwarted by reality, I also realized that my husband and I were alive and healthy. We were together, our marriage and love stronger than ever. Even though we would have to, yet again, go through another holiday without a child, we at least had each other. And to me that was worth celebrating.

-  Jennifer

Hope Over Experience

How to get through a pregnancy with sanity and grace when the calendar is marked by gravestones of past failed pregnancies? The eight week marker, twelve week marker, the nuchal fold test, the 20 week anatomy scan....
I have watched my patients rob themselves of the joy of pregnancy; of the "ooh, ooh our baby!”- Frantic instead of ecstatic at each sonogram. How to overcome the fear of loss and bond with the growing fetus when every turn lurks loss and danger? Trust is hard to come by but indeed, necessary.
Celebrate each marker, every turning point, and acknowledge that life outside the womb is also a scary place. We handle those with ease (usually) but as it pertains to those entrusted to our care, what mind shift must take place to garner a bit of that pregnancy bliss? Perhaps it starts with teaching the child in utero from the very beginning, that we ride the wave of life despite what and where it tosses us. 

- Kira

October 15th

Yesterday I was on Twitter and noticed someone posted a note on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, which this year falls on October 15th. I must admit my ignorance as I never heard of this particular day of observance. I was intrigued and did a little research; I went on to learn that this was a movement designated by President Ronald Reagan all the way back in 1988. In addition, the month of October was also designated as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. The day itself became one of remembrance and observance in 2002 and has spread throughout not only the United States but also the UK, Canada, Australia and Italy. The day is observed with ceremonies and candle-lighting and a worldwide lighting of candles occurs at 7pm.
I was really touched when I read more about this particular day and thought it would be of interest to some of you. Throughout the year certain "anniversaries" pop up and memories of a pregnancy loss and the subsequent grief that followed, can cast a pall over the day or even an entire season. I know for me, after a late and devastating miscarriage in November of 2010, autumn (which used to be my favorite time of year) is one I have started to hate. For me it just feels eerie and there are one too many awful memories associated with the fall season. In the past I never really knew how to channel all of that sadness, perhaps this year I will turn it around and light a candle on October 15th, not just for the soul that didn't make it, but for all the others.
Everyone handles grief and mourning in their own way, and some don't recognize it at all (ahem). But perhaps this year it will be comforting to know that on one special day there will be millions of other women lighting candles and taking a moment to recognize their losses and the pain they have triumphed over. Maybe it will give all of you not only a little bit of inspiration, but peace as well.

- Jennifer

Motherlode

The New York Times has a great column called "Motherlode" which focuses on topics such as parenting, fertility issues, maternal struggles and a whole host of other subjects. Last Sunday, an incredibly thoughtful piece on one woman's experience with pregnancy loss and grieving was published. I thought the author accurately explained the conflicting emotions a woman and her partner can experience while trying to climb the mountain of sadness and grief.  I thought it was the perfect thing to share with all of you, and I hope it provides some comfort while you heal...

- Jennifer

How to Not Have a Breakdown

Let me clarify, as we actually encourage breakdowns- they kind of get you back to neutral don't you think? The breakdown I am speaking of is the one that barrels down on you after your close friend announces she is pregnant. Maybe you know the feeling? You just had a miscarriage, or several, and during what is supposed to be a fun night out you notice your dear friend doesn't order a glass of wine. And she always orders a glass of wine. Immediately your mind starts to go haywire because you know exactly what this means. So you start to rehearse your escape route- if you can make a dash for the door now perhaps you won't have to hear the words coming out of her mouth. But all of the sudden it's happening and you can't stop it. You force a smile, gulp your tears down and give her a hug- while reaching for your wine as quickly as possible. If she isn't drinking someone should, and that someone should be you! You make it through your dinner, trying to ask thoughtful questions and carry on as though you aren't bothered in the least, but you are counting down the minutes when you can sprint out of the restaurant, jump in a cab and start crying. I have been there so many times I can't even count at this point. And I'm not the only one, as I have seen my husband try to maneuver his way around this situation (with a bit more grace then me) on several occasions. Let's face it, it's not easy. Hopefully your friend is gentle in her delivery and understands how awkward this is for you. But, there is a change in dynamic that neither of you can deny. So how do you get through this, besides avoiding your friend for nine months (which by the way I have done- not the best strategy). Below is an attempt to help all of you avoid the mistakes I made in the past:

• Let it All Out. Jump into that cab and cry, then go home and throw a few things. You have to process these feelings- just make sure your blinds are closed.

• Be Honest. Once you have "processed your feelings", perhaps it is time for a little heart to heart with your friend. When you are ready, start off by saying how happy you are for her, but then explain that this is going to be a bit of a learning curve for both of you. You will try your best to be the good friend you are, but help her understand that there may be some difficult moments along the way.

• Be Honest: Part Two. Acknowledge you are going to have a few moments where some unpleasant characters are going to rear their ugly head (namely jealousy and anger). It's bound to happen, just be gentle with yourself.

• Know Thyself. If you know attending certain baby-to-be events are going to upset you, be up front with your friend and tell her it might not be the best venue for you. Believe me, she will understand. Also, no one wants someone crying in the corner eating all the cake.

•  Find an Outlet: Your friend is soon going to be sporting a baby bump and experiencing moments that you imagined for yourself; which makes this experience that much more heart-wrenching for you. It will stir up emotions that you thought you were long over and bring up new ones you didn't know you had. Find a neutral friend, a really good therapist, or your own partner to work through those feelings with. Believe it or not, this is all going to help you heal. The universe has a funny way of letting you know when you haven't fully gotten over something by getting right in your face.

In the end, remember you are both human and this is a tricky situation. You have been through hell and back and most likely your expecting friend was by your side along the way. If you both come from a place of honesty and love (for one another and yourself) it can end up strengthening your friendship. And if all else fails, a few glasses of wine never hurt anyone.

- Jennifer

Landmines

The most annoying post-miscarriage activity on the planet is any kind of social event.  That is because social events are usually comprised of a few people you don't know. Strangers if you will. And those strangers are the biggest landmine known to man.  They will ask you question after question not realizing how uncomfortable you are in your own skin at that given moment. Of course I can't blame them; they are doing their job as a guest, attempting to feign curiosity. I, however, have zero interest in them. Maintaining a smile and pretending to be impressed by anything they have to say is utterly exhausting. Usually what bothers me most is this line of questioning: Oh is that your husband? Oh you guys are cute, how long have you been married? Wow! Do you guys have kids? Oh. Why not? Don't you want children?  Now, it usually depends on what kind of mood I'm in and how annoying the person asking the question is. If he/she (usually a she) is particularly irritating I may for a split second think of answering honestly just to make them uncomfortable; my little way of getting back at them for their obvious lack of etiquette. But most times I just stand there and stumble my way through some sort of coherent answer. Can we just agree that asking someone why they don’t have children is one of the most distasteful questions in the book? Maybe next time, if I am feeling particularly frisky, I will ask the offending individual why her mother didn’t teach her better manners.

- Jennifer

My Body is a Wonderland?

Last week I read an article about your body after baby when there is no baby; the ordeal of losing a pregnancy only to realize that parts of you still look and feel pregnant. It got me thinking of my own experiences, one in particular which occurred after my 18 week pregnancy loss. Following a harrowing surgery, two blood transfusions and an iron count so low I was unable to walk without assistance, I woke up one morning and as I was about to step into the shower I glanced in the mirror. Imagine my surprise when the image that gazed back was... Malibu Barbie? Oh yes, it seemed that overnight my breasts had suddenly become D-cups. For a split second I thought how cool God, the universe, whoever, was for this incredible consolation prize. Sorry about the miscarriage, but here is a new set of boobs! Then I looked down and realized what was actually happening. The leaking milk was the not- so- subtle clue that this was no party favor; my body believed it had delivered a baby and responded the only way it knew how. In that moment I was both horrified and amazed. Horrified, not only did I not have a baby, but now I must be subjected to walking around with breasts engorged for the sole purpose of feeding a newborn. Amazed, that despite what occurred; my body knew exactly what to do. It checked off all the boxes; baby out, breasts full. The sadness that swept over me was all consuming; I broke down and wept in the shower for what seemed like days. I wept for the baby I didn't have and for the dreams that seemed to get sucked right down the drain. After my breakdown I made an emergency call to my doctor. I needed help; I needed my boobs to go back down to the small B's they once were. I couldn't face the daily reminder that I didn't have a baby to feed for one more minute. She empathized and said that at least my body reacted in a way that was healthy.  I was instructed to place bags of frozen peas on the cantaloupe- sized boobs that were now suddenly bestowed upon me, in the hopes that after a few days’ time things would appropriately deflate. So, for the next week I steadied myself and walked around my apartment with frozen peas stuffed into a sports bra that was definitely not built for that kind of work out.
Once the misery subsided, I remember the anger that took over. Why hadn't anyone informed me this would happen? After I left the hospital I was instructed of the bleeding and other "side effects" that could be experienced after a miscarriage, but it would have been nice if someone filled me in on the possibility that my breasts would grow to the size of my head and leave milk residue on all my shirts.  After a pregnancy loss you must process grief, pain, sadness, physical discomfort, but also the image of a post- baby body without the newborn. It all seems like a cruel joke at times doesn't it?

- Jennifer

The Space Between

I've been thinking a lot of the space between pregnancies. That horrendous time when you feel the rug was ripped out from under you, when it feels as though the last few months were a waste, when you are full of questions about what the hell just happened and what is in store for you next. It is also a time when you are completely unable to make any sort of plan for the future. The inability to move forward is a by-product of pregnancy loss one doesn't think of until, well, they are in it. Friends will ask if you can join them on holiday in six months and you will respond with a shrug and a "depends where I am" kind of answer. Summer comes around along with the inevitable “hey, any vacation plans?”, and you shrug your shoulders again trying to sound really excited about your “staycation” and the long weekends you have planned. The future is up in the air because you have no idea if you will be pregnant. And if you are, then you are most likely high-risk which means you probably can't fly (at least in the first trimester). Any attempt at solidifying a plan is pointless. At least it feels that way. And let me take it one step further, this feeling of immobility is largely due to the fact that after a miscarriage (or several) you become completely consumed with getting pregnant again. That is numero uno on your list of priorities, so the whole cycle is vicious beyond belief.  You and your partner don't want to fritter away any more time, so you feel as though you are running against the clock. The space between is a total mind f*$# (excuse my French), and there are moments when it feels worse than the actual miscarriage.
I actually don't have an antidote to this, though I wish I did. In the past I have tried to enjoy life as much as possible with a nice vacation with my husband, maybe treating myself to something that I probably couldn't wear if I were pregnant, etc... But it all just feels like empty gestures. We go through the motions one by one, trying to talk ourselves into "isn't life great!" and “I'm just going to enjoy myself!", when in reality we have a monkey on our back we can’t shake until that missing puzzle piece is finally found.
What about you guys? What do you do during this time and how do you handle it?

- Jennifer

On Judging Pain

First things first many apologies for the lack of posts recently, Kira is abroad and I have been battling a horrendous cold for the last few days, making it virtually impossible to do anything else other than eat ice cream. But I'm back (sort of) so bear with me while I try to string two sentences together. While I was moaning on the couch this morning I came across a really interesting essay by a writer named Jennifer Pastiloff, titled "Don't Judge Your Pain. Or Anyone Else's". The essay centered on her broken foot and inability to do anything other than sit for a protracted amount of time. During this unasked for "down time" she had a few epiphanies (I won't spoil them for you) but they had everything to do with allowing herself to feel vulnerable and grateful. There were people in her life that came through for her without her needing to ask, and there were some who deeply disappointed her. Sound familiar? Even though the impetus for the essay was her broken foot, I bet a lot of us could have written something very similar with regard to our own pregnancy loss experiences. Owning our pain and allowing ourselves to feel vulnerable, accepting help, understanding that some people (for whatever reason) are unable to be there for us in a way we feel is deserved and necessary, how kindness matters, are all lessons most of us are learning during our own miscarriage healing process. It is a wonderfully honest and remarkable read, not only because I see myself in her, but it is a brilliant reminder of the kind of person I hope to be not only to myself but those around me.

Please let me know what you think and I hope you find it as inspiring as I did.

 

- Jennifer

A Must Read

I'm not one to tell people what to do (wink wink), but I implore all of you to read Dr. Jessica Zucker's newest essay on her unique experience with pregnancy loss. I have been so impressed by Dr. Zucker's honesty and her writing is smart and poignant. I hope all of you find her work to be as inspiring as I do.
Happy reading!

- Jennifer

Baby Shower Anxiety

Over the last week or so we have received a few emails from fellow readers all on the same topic: baby showers. Some have expressed anxiety over shopping for a baby gift after their own miscarriage, and some have found it difficult to imagine sitting next to a heavily pregnant friend "oohing" and "ahhing" over burp cloths and breast pumps. I feel your pain. Since my first miscarriage four years ago I have been invited to my fair share of baby showers, baptisms and "meet the baby" parties. Before I met Kira I went to all of them (even if the end result was me hysterically crying in the back of a cab, shoving pacifier shaped cookies in my mouth). I remember the dread I felt after receiving numerous baby shower invitations, which somehow always arrived after my own pregnancy loss. One day I mentioned to Kira I had a friend's shower to attend, and I was feeling particularly anxious about it. I remember exactly what happened next.  She looked me in the eye and confidently said, "Don't go! Give yourself permission to not go!" I looked at her as if she was some sort of heretic. Of course I had to go! It was so-and-so's shower; I couldn't NOT go. So I kept RSVP'ing "Yes", put on a happy face and showed up. But after I experienced an 18 week miscarriage everything changed. I couldn't keep up the facade any longer and let's face it; it would have been a thinly veiled attempt that everyone would have seen right through.  I realized Kira was on to something, I didn't have to go. More than that my true friends would not only understand, but wouldn't want me to experience any more emotional discomfort or sadness than I already experienced. So I started to RSVP "No" with a kind note and then I would send a baby blanket. FYI: I have found these gifts to be pretty benign in the emotional heart strings department. Baby blankets aren't adorable little booties. They aren't sweet little outfits from Crewcuts. Catch my drift? Baby blankets- that's where it's at. Better yet, have a friend send it for you.
I'm sure some people rolled their eyes and found my absence to be "melodramatic". But for the first time in my life I didn't care.  I started making decisions based on what felt best for me, not on what I "should" do and what was "expected".
The takeaway here? Listen to yourself. If the idea of playing "celebrity baby name" games and passing around baby food processors make you want to put a hot poker in your eye, stay home. But if you do choose to go, at least snag a few cookies on your way out the door. Those might come in handy.

- Jennifer

An Inspiring Read

The black hole that is Twitter can be mind-numbing. It is also frightening in the sense that I can spend a full hour sorting through my Twitter feed only to walk away feeling unsatisfied. Where did the last hour of my life go? Why can't I get enough of this Jay-Z craziness? I digress. What I am trying to say is, even though Twitter can win the gold medal in time-suckage, it can also be a truly amazing place where inspiration really is just around the corner. Such was the case this past weekend when I happened to stumble across a remarkably thoughtful piece by Doctor Jessica Zucker on Medium.com. Dr. Zucker I learned, is an LA based Psychologist who specializes in women's reproductive and maternal mental health, and she wrote a beautiful essay titled "5 Ways to Revolutionize Pregnancy Loss". The minute I opened the link I felt a thrill. It was incredibly exciting to see a medical professional validate the complicated "post-pregnancy loss" healing process and how imperative it is after such a traumatic experience. As someone who always felt there was a lack of quality literature (and heart) regarding miscarriage I am overjoyed by Dr. Zucker's essay.  In my experience, pregnancy loss has been a taboo subject for far too long, and those of us suffering (and healing) from this felt alone and ashamed. We’ve come a long way baby, now let’s keep up the good work!

- Jennifer

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

Ughhhhh. Mother's Day. I hate Mother's Day. Love my mother, love my mothers-in-law, just loathe Mother's Day. Every year it seems this holiday gets bigger and bigger, and every year I feel like I am on the outside looking in; as if I have a permanent seat at the kid's table.  Is it just me, or is this holiday on steroids this year? Every channel on TV, every radio program, every commercial, every store front- even Duane Reade is ALL about Mother's Day. I can't even shop online. Oh the horror! But seriously, it isn't even the commercialized sentiment that annoys me, it's the fact that I am totally left out of this thing! I love holidays, I love getting gifts, why can't I get in on this? My husband tells me I have a tendency to "mother" everyone. Well if that's the case then I DEFINITELY think I should get some flowers as well as a nice piece of jewelry. Why do people with kids get to have all the fun?  I may just send myself a nice bouquet of flowers as a pat on the back for all the mothering I do. Because in the end, I think this day should be more about thanking the women in your life who take such good care of you (and vice versa) than whether or not you gave birth.
So on that note, happy Mother's Day to you all!

- Jennifer

On Healing

One of the main reasons Kira and I started this blog was to connect with other women who are in the midst of healing from pregnancy loss. Through sharing our experiences and humorous musings our goal is for you to read a blog post and say to yourself, "That happened to me too!"  We think there is nothing quite like commiserating with others. However, there is another goal for us, we want to show you how important it is to truly heal after loss. The emotional toll a miscarriage takes on one's psyche and body can have long lasting effects if not treated with respect.  This is a lesson I learned from Kira and it has had a profound effect on my own healing. One of the methods that she has taught me is meditation. I admit I am still not great at it, but I have noticed after each pregnancy loss how comforting it is. And after such a physical and emotional trauma, comfort is the name of the game.  I am pleased to say that Kira was more than thrilled to share with you a little meditation she has used with me and others. We hope you will take this with you and hold it in your heart whenever you need a little love. So, without further ado...

- Jennifer


A Healing Meditation- By Kira

Meditation is a powerful tool for transformation. It can change brain chemistry and redirect negative thoughts. For me, transformation was always the goal rather than remaining stuck in a sorrowful and bitter place. It is widely known that meditation can relax the body and mind as well as lower anxiety, but meditation can also lower blood pressure, respiratory rates as well as blood cortisol levels.

The meditation below can be "active", meaning it can be said while walking, or in the more traditional pose of sitting or lying down. Follow what your own energy level is. Placing your hands on your stomach while doing the meditation can be helpful as well since it pulls good energy to your center, an area that experiences an energy shift after loss. Which is why meditation is so wonderful, it is all about redirecting energy.

"With immense sorrow I send back this soul to the universe. With joy I ask that the right one for us be sent soon. I pray that the hole in my center be filled with life and pray we enjoy our life together through that time."

This meditation centers around bringing hope back to the life you share with your partner. Feel free to add other words or imagery that you connect with.

I hope this meditation brings you healing and peace.

- Kira

Our Spare Bedroom is Mocking Me

My husband and I are really lucky to live in a two bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side, one block away from Central Park. Sort of ideal for having a family wouldn't you say? I sure would. That second bedroom though, something most people in New York City would kill to have, is like a noose around my neck.  I simultaneously feel anger and disgust every time I walk by it. Who knew that a bedroom would stir such aggressive emotion? But for me it is emblematic of the sad fact that I am still in the same place I was four years ago. Sometimes I walk into the room and scowl at the desk that is residing where our changing table is supposed to be. I stare at the empty wall where the crib is to sit. The blueprint of our nursery has been in my mind's eye after so many fits and starts, that walking into this dumping ground of a second bedroom makes me want to take a sledgehammer to everything in it. I wholeheartedly resent the extra crap that is sitting there, as if all of the inanimate objects are some how mocking me. Every time I find out I am pregnant my husband and I stare at the room and say, "Well if this one doesn't work out maybe we will just turn this into a drug den!"  Humor really does lighten the mood wouldn't you say? Last month Kira wrote that using baby wipes is one of her daily reminders. What about all of you? Do you guys have an equivalent? Inquiring minds want to know!

- Jennifer

Landmines

This week I thought I would share with you a "landmine" I walked into several years ago. It was an interaction that I had with an old friend after another devastating pregnancy loss. We were in conversation, discussing what had just happened to me, when she nonchalantly (and obliviously) asked. "Why don't you just adopt?" She completely stopped me in my tracks. In my mind that was just the sort of "fixing" comment that I dreaded the most. My friend made it seem that they were just giving babies away for free! No mountain of paperwork, buckets of money, or trauma of paying for a pregnancy only to have the birth mother renege. Free babies right this way! What I needed in that moment was a hug and to hear, "I'm sorry."  Instead I felt as if she hurled a grenade right at my heart. Looking back, what I have found most interesting, was that some people around me were incredibly annoyed that I didn't heed their advice and run to the nearest adoption agency.  Alas, if only they knew years of fertility treatments can sort of tie someone's finances up.  Needless to say, these people were part of what I like to call "The Great Narcissistic Friend Purge". It was sad of course, but a necessary move which eventually made room for some incredible people.


- Kira

Step Away from the Vagina!

I'm not sure what has been more annoying about my six miscarriages: the physical pain, the heartbreak, the feeling of being the only person without children or the amount of medical professionals in the New York City area that have spent a considerable amount of time with my vagina. At this rate, counting all the OBGYN's, specialists, nursing staff and the 30 odd people who decide to hang around the operating room for my D and C's, I'm easily at about 75 people. I had an ultrasound the other day, when the (new) doctor came in with THREE nurses. It was the place to be! Everyone crowding around, arms folded, chit chatting about this and that. We were a few passed hors d'oeuvres and martinis short of a cocktail party.
What about all of you? What are your "secondary annoyances"? Is it the "doctor shopping", hoping to find the one person that can crack your case? Is it the endless hours of sitting in a paper gown waiting....and waiting? Or is it hearing this: "Please bring all your medical records prior to your appointment"? OK, I take back everything I just said, THAT is the most annoying thing.

- Jennifer

Landmines

In keeping with our weekly "Landmines" feature I thought I would lighten the mood after yesterday's post. Below is a pretty excruciating (and kind of hilarious) exchange I had with a doctor a few years ago. You just can't make this stuff up!

Scene: The maternal fetal health department of a certain well known NYC hospital.  My OB sent me to have a 3D ultrasound due to a scare I had that week.

Me: (Lying on the table, freaking out but trying to be calm and NOT looking at the ultrasound monitor).

"Doctor": Hmmmmmmm well, there's no heartbeat. What a bummer.

Me: I'm sorry what?

"Doctor": Yup, no heartbeat. Man that is such a bummer. 

Me: (Trying to not cry, throw up or wring her neck- not necessarily in that order) Are you kidding me?

"Doctor": Wish I was. But you have kids already right?

Me: Ummmm no.

"Doctor": Oh man. How old are you? 33? You don't have ANY kids? Oh that is terrible. You are going to need to get this taken care of immediately by the way. It really is such a bummer (she makes a sad face).

Me: Uhhh yeah you could say that.

SO, that happened. But guess what also happened later that same day? After replaying the interaction over and over in my head, I had this overwhelming urge that I MUST help women in my situation. This doctor made it clear that women who suffer from pregnancy loss are sadly misunderstood and often overlooked, sometimes even by their own health care providers. Looking back I am actually grateful for that exchange; without it I don't know if this blog would exist. Talk about "finding the gold" huh?

- Jennifer