Saturday, February 4, 2012

Did she really exist?

The bills have started to arrive from late December/early January. Marked "laboratory" and "surgery," we've begun fielding the costs for the betas and the D&C. For the most part, the only emotion that I've been feeling when I see these is frustration: frustration that we are being billed for things we've already paid for and frustration with insurance for giving me the run around (hopefully all of this will be solved soon). But one bit of information threw me yesterday, giving me pause. We received a letter from Dr. Optimism with the cytogenetics results.

During our appointment a couple of weeks ago, Dr. Optimism walked us through the meaning for the potential results of the cytogenetics from the D&C. Armed with the pathology report, which concluded I was pregnant, she noted that the amount of fetal tissue was very small. So there were 3 possibilities: one was that the karyotype would show aneuploidy, indicating why everything stopped growing, another was that the karyotype would be normal 46XY, indicating the embryo was male. The final was that the karyotype would be 46XX. This would be very hard to interrupt, as they wouldn't be able to tell whether it was the embryo's karyotype or mine. All they could definitely say is that there was no translocations.

Guess what the results were.

Reading the letter brought on a wave of emotions that I thought I had resolved. It's caused me to question whether this pregnancy even existed. In addition, there came sorrow over the possibility, though slight, that this embryo was indeed a girl. A little girl. And I failed her.

I hate yo-yoing between being okay and not. I hate that the reminders that time as so negative and sterile. I want to be able to move on, to move forward with love. And I want to stop questioning whether I actually was pregnant every single day. Because being in a state wondering if she did exist doesn't help.


  1. Oh Cristy. I can relate to saying "I hate yo-yoing between being okay and not." It so hard to work through the emotions of every day. The bills showing up was really hard for me to... I remember going through the mail at the kitchen table one day and breaking down into sobs as I opened medical bills from the miscarriage. It's the worst kind of salt in a still bleeding wound.

    I think if I could offer one sliver of advice, it would be to believe that she did exist. That she is a part of your life. Of course that brings with it it's own set of emotions but I think there is some comfort in believing in her too. She is yours and will always be.


  2. She did exist. And she was a SHE. I wish I knew what the sex of my bean had been. Thinking of you.

  3. I am right there with you. I feel confused all the time about whether any of it really happened. Some days, like you, I feel so much the same as I did pre-pregnancy that I think I was never carrying M & A. I know there were real, but sometimes it feels like a bad dream an infertile had.
    I still yo-yo and it feels horrible. I just want to be stable and steady. I want to feel like I am not constantly fighting my emotions.

    I wish there was a magic pill or solution to our grief, but I think it will just take good ol' time and support. I'm here for you.

  4. Oh you nailed it with swinging between being and okay and not being okay. That takes a lot of time and healing to get there. You have been so strong but no one expects you to be "over it." She was yours and your loss is still fresh and real. And screw those insurance companies for adding to your stress. When we lost our baby it took a long, long time before I could rely upon my emotions on a daily basis. It will come. Sending you lots of love.

  5. In my mind I see no doubt that she did exist. No, you did not fail her. Your grieving is normal. Your yo-yoing thoughts are normal. Its just going to take time to learn to cope with this loss.

  6. This breaks my heart to read. Yes she was there. You were a mother - a fantastic mother - and you did everything you could possibly do to keep her safe and protect her. I *completely* understand the yo-yoing that you're talking about. It's like my surgeon said during the post op - it will never go away but you will get better at coping with time. I haven't yet either but all we can do is try one day at a time to pick ourselves up. *big big big hugs* I'm so sorry you've had to go through this.

  7. She existed because you loved her. You did not fail her. Sending you hugs.

  8. Oh, Cristy. I'm so sorry. I received XX results last fall and it was so difficult. The bills are such a hit when you're already down, too.


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