ramble ramble ramble

Thank you to everyone who left the wonderfully kind and thoughtful comments on my last post. Sometimes it's easy to get tunnel vision and think that I'm the only person who thinks about what happened, but your comments helped to remind me that I have wonderful friends who really care.

As I mentioned in my last post, I really am seeing more doctors now than I ever thought possible. My primary care doc (to help get my blood pressure under control), a new high-risk OB, a psychiatrist (for the happy pills and the sleepy pills), a psychologist (for therapy), and, as of today, a nephrologist (to evaluate my kidney function and see if the PE and HELLP caused any lasting damage). Apparently, my echocardiogram came back ok, so no need (as of yet) to see a cardiologist. One less doctor.

All of this to get my body (and mind) back into a place where we can try again to have a baby. I'm hopeful that if today's tests come back ok, and we can get my blood pressure under control, that we can get the go ahead in a few months, but we could be asked to wait until this spring, which would be difficult. I know that the holidays are going to be hard this year, as we were supposed to be celebrating all of Eliza's firsts: first Christmas, first picture with Santa, etc., and I think they would be a bit easier to get through if we were already trying again. Of course, the primary goal is to have a healthy pregnancy and bring home a healthy baby, but I guess I would just prefer that goal was fulfilled sooner, rather than later.

Wanting to get pregnant again doesn't mean that I've "gotten over" Eliza's death -- I don't think that you ever "get over" the death of your child. But I was cheated out of being a mother to a healthy baby, which is now something I want more than ever. Eliza will always be my first born, and now I want to give her brothers & sisters.

Just because I didn't get to know Eliza outside of my body, it doesn't mean that she wasn't a person, a child, my baby. I knew her intimately, and I miss her every day. But somehow, over the last few months, I've learned how to function, despite that loss. I get up in the morning, take a shower, get dressed, take my meds, record my blood pressure, go to work, eat, knit (oh boy, do I knit), see friends (occasionally -- I'm working up to that more), joke with my husband and generally try to keep going. I think that's what Eliza would want.

If you're still reading this, thank you. The more I talk/write about what happened, the better I am able to deal with it.