by way of explanation

It is probably clear to the readers of my blog that something odd has been going on with me. I have gone back and forth a lot in my mind as to whether I should write about this or not. However, after discussing it with friends and a reader of this blog (you know who you are...thank you!), I decided that it might be good therapy to write about it, and that it has potential to help some others or at least open up a bit more what seems to be a taboo subject in our society. Why that is, I'm not sure, and I think it would be more healthy if it wasn't that way. So I'm going to do my small part to make a difference.

If you are squeamish or sensitive, you might not want to read this. I'm not going to be graphic, but it's not a tame subject. You've been warned. Otherwise, read on.

On February 22nd or so, I was wondering a bit why I hadn't gotten my period. It's quite regular at 26-28 days and it was day 28. Insert a bit of history here - I have a severe luteal phase defect (7 days on average instead of 14) and my two children were conceived with the aid of fertility drugs. I was at the grocery store with the kids and thought to get a pregnancy test just in case (though I highly doubted I could be pregnant, since we weren't trying or taking any medication). They didn't have any on obvious display and I was in a hurry so I skipped it. Two days later, I knew I'd better settle the question, because it was nagging me even more. I picked up some tests and hurried home and took one. I about passed out with surprise when it was positive. I was shocked, a bit angry, kind of freaked out, and in disbelief. I spent the day in a fog and arranged for a sitter so I could take Loren out to dinner and tell him. He was equally shocked, but to his credit, he took it much better than I did and was even happy about it. I started to relax and get a bit excited about the whole thing.

Over the next 10 days or so I took it easy with my workouts (no more speed work, fewer miles, etc.) and planned things out in my head. I knew I shouldn't get too excited, as the risk of miscarriage increases a lot with age, and I was almost 41. Still, it was impossible not to think ahead and anticipate things like how great my kids would be with a new baby, how much my parents would enjoy it, etc.

On Monday, March 7, the day before my birthday, I had a very small amount of bright red spotting. Uh-oh. I freaked out and was quite upset. Funny, since this had been unplanned, but I guess the mother instinct is very strong. The spotting stopped and I was relieved and thought maybe it was OK. But on Tuesday night when I was out celebrating my birthday dinner with my friend Sarah, it started up again. It wasn't that much bleeding, but I was concerned and called the doctor the next morning. He saw me right away and did blood work to check my HCG levels. The next day I checked in with him and the levels were really good at 25000 (I was 6 wk 2 days pregnant at that point). He scheduled an ultrasound to see if all was well, and it looked great. I saw the baby's heart beating, and it was SUCH a relief, and such a gift to see that little heartbeat. The doctor said that things were much more likely to be OK after seeing the heartbeat, and he said the small amount of bleeding I was having was most likely due to the placenta's location - it was probably a bit over the cervix and it would move as the uterus grew, and the bleeding would probably stop in 7-10 days. He did say not to exercise until the bleeding had stopped, and I had already been cautious enough to stop, reluctantly, but realizing the necessity. He is a great doc and didn't promise that things would be OK, but just said it was more likely after seeing the heartbeat on ultrasound, and that things looked good at that point.

Well, unfortunately, things didn't stay OK. It was quite a rollercoaster week, emotionally. On Saturday, March 12th, I awoke at 5 am with severe pain. I knew it was really bad within 10 minutes or so, and I woke Loren up, telling him I knew I was having a miscarriage. The pain was bad enough that I had to breathe through the waves, almost like being in labor. It continued like that for 2 hours, and of course the bleeding increased. It was terrible, physically and emotionally. I cried the whole 2 hours, both from pain and from terrible sadness at the profound loss. Thankfully, the pain abated after 2 hours, and I was able to sleep for a while. The rest of the day was spent a bit in a fog. I cancelled my piano students, didn't do anything else I'd planned, and we ate dinner out so I wouldn't have to cook. I mourned and cried, but also hugged Calvin and Michelle tighter, re-realizing what a gift they are.

I didn't go to the ER, because Loren (trained in family practice though not practicing medicine now) said it wasn't necessary. I did go to see my doctor right away on Monday morning. He and his office staff were wonderful. I need to send them a thank-you note. They handled it so professionally and with so much compassion. They got me out of the waiting room full of pregnant women ASAP, found a comfy room to sit me in, and gave me some bereavement materials to read while I waited for the doctor, who was quite busy that morning. He was great, though. He did have to examine me, and it was rather uncomfortable, but I wanted him to do his job to make sure I was healthy. The main risk is infection, especially when you have been bleeding before a miscarriage, and even more so if there is any tissue that is not expelled. He didn't find anything, but of course didn't probe too much either, as early on the body is pretty good at taking care of things itself. He did prescribe antibiotics for me, which I am usually loathe to take as I don't like increasing antibiotic resistance. However, this time I agreed that it was wise, and have been dutifully taking them and enjoying the lovely GI side effects (no more details needed).

It's been a week today since this happened, and it's been tough. I think maybe I'm over the worst of the emotional pain now, but I'm not sure. A lot of things remind me of the loss; seeing a 5-year-old holding her 1-year-old sister's hand in Diva's Cupcakes and Coffee nearly sent me over the edge on Tuesday. Similar things have cropped up all week. I knew we wouldn't try again for another child, so in a way I'm mourning that as well; we had thought our family complete until this happened, but of course now a small part of me wanted another child, even if it was impractical. I had so many mixed feelings. Mostly profound sadness, but also some frustration. I had been disappointed that I wouldn't get to do the World Masters, but I figured I'd go cheer my friends on, and that I'd have the reward of a beautiful child at the end. Now that wasn't going to happen. Yes, I could still do the races, but how would I get back in shape again? So many setbacks this year. My body has been through a lot and I wonder how hard it will be to get it back into racing shape. I know women do this all the time - Kara Goucher and Deena Kastor, world-class runners, have both recently given birth, which is much more than I went through this time, and they are going to try to get back in shape for the 2012 Olympics. Still...it's a daunting task, made more complex by the fact that I'm an emotional eater and I've gained 5-6 pounds through all of this. I'm getting distracted here; I was talking about my feelings. Anyway, most of my feelings were sadness and depression-type feelings, with a few small feelings of relief (mostly financial!) mixed in. It has been so weird. I sometimes don't even know how I feel. Mostly it's just been very, very hard.

Racewalking has been great therapy this week. I should say first that my doctor cleared me for all kinds of exercise on Monday. On Tuesday, I was feeling terrible, and racewalking helped me to snap out of the lousy funk I was in when I woke up. Of course, racewalking has been a bit of a mixed bag, as I struggled through a simple 3K fartlek workout yesterday. However, I was expecting that, and it didn't upset me too much; still, it was hard. Today was good, as I managed a decent 10K, though not a great one. Given my condition it was as good as could be expected, though. I think I did lose a fair amount of blood, and my hormones are probably going crazy, so what can I realistically expect?

Another great therapy this week has been planning ahead for the World Masters and a fun summer vacation with the family. I chatted with friends this week and arranged for the three other "coachees" of my coach Jim to stay with me at my brother's house just outside of Sacramento during the races. It's going to be a lot of fun rooming together and racing together. My brother is out of town then and graciously made his home available to us, for which I am really thankful. We plan for Loren and the kids to join me there a few days before the 20K (the last race), and then we are planning a family trip to Disneyland after that. Thinking ahead to good times, enjoying my kids, working out, and working hard at my job have kept me sane this week, along with the comfort of my friends and family and my faith.

Then there have been the more surreal aspects of this. I didn't think I'd have to be worrying about birth control. Hahahaha. Well, I had to talk to the doc and Loren about that and come up with some plans for what to do. It's been interesting, and I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say that we are doing all we can to be sure we don't go through this again. That makes me a bit sad, oddly enough, but I know it's the wise thing to do. We knew that since we weren't using birth control previously that this could potentially happen, but thought it quite unlikely given my history, and were willing to take the small chance that we could have another child. We discussed it a couple times a year to be sure we were still willing to take the small risk. But now we know that the risk might be slightly greater, so we really have to take action.

Well, that's the end of the story for now. I know it's going to be a while before I feel totally normal again, physically or emotionally, but I do feel I'm on the road to recovery. Writing about it has indeed been therapeutic, and I hope it benefits someone out there as well. At least my blog for the past few weeks should make a little more sense now to my readers. If you've gotten this far, thanks for reading and thank you for your support.