A blog about babies: the babies I lost, the babies I never had, the baby who made me a Mama.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

L'Shana Tova; or, Happy New Year

I'm not Jewish, but Lawyer Guy and his family are, so we spent the eve of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish new year, at family dinners in the suburbs. In keeping with my generally crappy attitude of the past several weeks, there were a lot of moments in which I felt pretty sorry for myself:

- Driving with Lawyer Guy in almost two hours of traffic (in the car that I side-swiped into a wall in our parking garage yesterday afternoon).
- Watching my in-laws gush and coo and hover over my almost three-year-old niece.
- Watching the fat little baby my 5-month-old niece has turned into.
- Thinking how my baby would have been three months younger than Niece #2 (having a living yardstick by which to measure your never-born child rocks).
- Remembering last year's Rosh Hashanah dinner, when BIL and SIL showed the 12-week ultrasound of Niece #2 and I fought so hard to be friendly and interested and engaged in the conversations about the new baby and to smother the jealousy that even then started to surge.
- Realizing I have neither the desire nor the will to try to control my jealousy any longer.
- Remembering how I told myself last September that "this time next year" things would be different.
- Remembering that last year's Rosh Hashanah was the beginning of the cycle that led to my pregnancy.

And the big one, which always seems to be at the back of my mind these days:
- Realizing it's actually the autumn again, that October is a breath away and November right after, and that I'll soon be remembering the anniversary of the only pregnancy I may ever have.

Shit, it's really enough to break my heart sometimes.

Lawyer Guy came home with some pessimistic work news earlier in the week, and I told him that one of these days our luck has to change. Eventually, things have to start coming right again. I don't know if I actually believe that, but I needed to be supportive of him, and in the moments I said the words they did feel true. Nothing lasts forever, not even runs of crappy luck that are edging ever closer to the multi-year mark. Not even them.

It's a new post-miscarriage year. It's a new academic year. For my Jewish family, it's a new calendar year. And one week from today, we'll meet some REs and finally start a new phase in this process.

I'm not going to wave flags or toot noisemakers or drink champagne. I've gotten to the point in this process where I've realized that new years can look remarkably like old ones and that the simple passage of time is no magical palliative for all life's troubles.

But still. New is good.


  1. Hey there,
    I just wanted to tell you that you have so much ahead of you you can try to have a baby (with RE a whole new world opens up), that the chances that everything fails if you try all available treatment are very slim.

  2. I don't think anyone could blame you for the thoughts you had during the family visit. I'm sorry you had to be reminded of painful memories. But I sincerely hope that this new year will bring you lots of happiness and that at next year's family gathering, you'll have a little on of your own and remember this past one as a great obstacle you overcame.

    Looking forward to hearing about your upcoming RE appointments.

  3. New IS good. I wish I were Jewish so that I could also start a new year. The past two haven't been so kind. I'm looking forward to your appointment with the REs. I hope one can give you the confidence and plan you need to get your BFP.

  4. New is definitely good - a fresh start is always feels good. I hope that your luck changes very soon.

    I'm so excited for your RE appointment, I hate that you're here and nothings worked out for you, but it will feel great to be proactive and have a doctor's help and to figure out what's going on.

    And so sorry for all of those feelings of jealousy with your SIL and BIL. I know them all too well. hugs.

  5. The niece-yardstick situation sounds utterly terrible. I'm sorry things worked out that way. And I totally understand your despondency here. I know the RE journey will bring you what you want-- I'm just really really sorry that it's taking so long. I am very frustrated and sad for you that luck looks so down. However, things do change, and they often change all at once and on a dime. You are a very very short step from happiness (which is also very frustrating at the moment, I know!).

  6. I'm constantly thinking, "our luck HAS to change soon." It doesn't seem right that two people could have this much crapiness for so long. I'm sure that it's true and that both of us will be getting a fresh start soon.

    (I'll be sure for the both of us for now)

  7. Oh Slopie, how absolutely heartbreaking to be staring at what could've been on every family holiday.

    I know it feels like this will never ever work out, because I know that exact feeling, but you have so much ahead of you with these RE consults. There is SO much medicine can do for you. Think about me, a horrible lining, non-ovulating, no-CM girl. I mean, these REs are basically geniuses, and they DO get women pregnant. Whether you're and easy or hard nut to crack, I believe in my heart of hearts they will crack you. And next new year's WILL be so very different. xo

  8. It sucks to realize where you would be, how things might be, what if it had worked out...

    I wish I had the right words but I don't know what they are. I just know that it sucks and I'm sorry you're going through it.

    I am excited to hear about what the RE has to say about things and hopefully your sticky, healthy BFP will be right around the corner.

  9. ((hugs)) I hope the RE visit is the beginning of a year that has its shit together for once.

  10. New IS good. New is like opening a notebook with lovely blank pages. The future is yet to be written there and I really do believe that runs of bad luck cannot last forever. They just cannot, and so I truly believe that your luck (and mine!) will turn around. I just hope that it does so SOON.

    Those living yardsticks are very difficult. That would be my niece, also. Whom I love very much. But who is nonetheless a constant reminder of what I lost.

    Hugs to you. And here's hoping that things start looking up. Soon. I think meeting with the RE is a very good first step.

  11. We have Jewish husbands in common! It's at times like these when I'm glad we live away from both our families, where children and pregnancies are plentiful and the jealousy inevitable. We spent Rosh Hashanah with friends who don't have kids (yet) and it made this holiday much easier (although we'll see how I feel at a break-the-fast next weekend where children will be all over the place). And isn't it amazing how bad luck seems to cluster around infertility disappointments? It must be so hard to be about to face the anniversary of your miscarriage. I am crossing my fingers that your upcoming RE visit leads you directly to your next positive pregnancy test. Things have to turn around, right?

  12. Oh, hon...I remember that post. Things ARE different this year-- you have a huge step ahead of you next week. I can't wait.