So... it happened again. But, this time, I'm almost embarrassed to say, it was so much easier.
Even now, as I write this almost four weeks later, I can't believe that is one of the strongest emotions I have; relief at how much easier it was than last time. The last time I had a miscarriage that is. Yep, it happened again.
If you missed the horrifying experience I had last year with my first miscarriage, I encourage you to read about it here. The short of it is that I am high risk for an ectopic pregnancy, was MIS-diagnosed as having an ectopic pregnancy, then went through abdominal surgery and two rounds of radiated chemo before the doctors admitted their mistake. Even my medical friends are blown away.
By October of last year (2017), my miscarriage was finally over and the healing process began. In the realm of "getting pregnant again", it took relatively little time (about 6 months).
There is still a high risk of ectopic pregnancy and I knew that the moment I confirmed the pregnancy, I would have to start blood tests and ultrasounds to confirm a healthy uterine pregnancy. On Tuesday, March 20th, I peed on a stick, got two lines and BOOM! pregnant.
I was immediately terrified.
Timing is a bitch sometimes. This was the week before my meal delivery service, Local Rhoots, was set to launch, but, HEY!, who doesn't love a challenge. The idea for Local Rhoots grew out of my meal plans. As my local audience increased, I was often asked if I could do the meal prep portion of the meal plan for people. For the last year, I always said no. Then, finally, I got enough interested that I said yes, I'll try it. This is an incredibly exciting venture and expansion of Eating Clean, Cooking Dirty. I'm using my meal plans, my recipes and feeding the community. It's awesome.
But now, I also had this fear looming over my head. Is the pregnancy ectopic? Will I get put in the same position as last time? How can I protect myself from feeling like a science experiment if I am put in the same position? The questions go deep, dark and fast into a hole that can be hard to climb out of.
And yet, this awesome thing was happening with my business.
That Thursday, March 22nd, I headed into Portland for my first blood test. They gave me an order to retake the test on Saturday. On Thursday, I also picked up my supplies for our first week of deliveries. I was standing on the highest peak and the lowest valley all at once.
Saturday morning started out pretty mellow. Breakfast, coffee, hanging with my husband, kid and dog. I was planning on heading to the hospital for my blood test at noon, but by mid-morning, something felt off. I had lost the pregnancy.
We still had to go to the emergency room because of my risk for ectopic. They had to do an exam which was HORRENDOUS! Except, that it was nothing compared to the last time. I got a shot of morphine, grit my teeth and got out of the ER in about three hours. The rest of the weekend was mostly for rest, in bed, hanging with my kid.
Yes, it sucked. It still sucks. And yet, I was also on the edge of something truly exciting. I wanted to be able to hold space for both. And so, as I was sharing my story with some lady friends, I decided that I would grieve on Saturday, the following Saturday. First, I would hold space for the awesome exciting events happening in my life. I was not going to let the sadness and disappointment stop me from celebrating the successes.
On Monday, our first day of prep and delivery, we kicked ass. As I finished my past delivery for the day, I went home floating high on a cloud, adrenaline rushing and feeling like I had hit on sometime with incredible potential. Success was celebrated!
I did grieve that next Saturday. It was mostly internal; my heart and my head were focused on the loss of life. It was intentional and what I needed in order to grieve. The next day I balled my eyes out; that was unplanned, but cathartic. And, I've cried a few more times since.
It was a revelation for me, to allow myself to hold space for the good in life and the hard in life on my own schedule. I imagine that not everyone can compartmentalize, and I admit, I've never done it to this extreme. But, there was a freeing feeling in deciding when I'm holding space to grieve and when I'm holding space to celebrate.