Family

What exactly is family?

I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now. We all have a preconceived notion based on our own background, beliefs, and values…. But when it comes down to it, it’s really simple.  In my pediatric lecture course we cover an entire chapter over “Family Centered Care”, and in my PowerPoint I describe family as “whatever a person considers it to be.” I remind my students that for some it is the typical mom/dad/child, but for others it includes grandparents, step-parents, adopted children, friends. It is whoever is most important to you, blood or not. Yet, I struggle with this understanding of family myself.

I began thinking about the meaning of family after I read a very moving story (read here). This story, if you chose not to read it, is about a 15 year-old orphan praying for adoption. I’ve always said I wanted to adopt, but this story gave me an entirely new perspective. For me, adoption has been a “last resort” and something I’d want to do AFTER I had 2 children of my own. Since our miscarriage, I’ve been thinking a lot more about adoption. We have no idea what the future holds for us, and that has opened my mind and my heart.

Why last resort? Why AFTER?

Adoption to me is no longer the trendy, altruistic thing to do. I believe it is what I was meant to do.

We will still continue to try for our own little miracle, but I will also begin the journey to learn more about adoption.

I’ve spent the last week with my family. My BIG, LOUD, AMAZING family. They make me crazy, but I couldn’t be more blessed. We love each other. We support each other.  My family doesn’t consist of only blood. I have people in my life who don’t share a single gene with me that I consider family, and I couldn’t imagine my life without them. I want to share that love with a child who needs us. Because even more, we need them. To open our mind and our heart to all that love is.

The Talk

We had "The Talk". 

What is it about being a woman and overdramatizing things? I'm normally pretty level-headed, but I've had this ridiculous portrayal in my mind of how everything would play out... I'd finally start a real discussion with my husband about the miscarriage... All the horrible emotions would come flooding back, it would be sad, depressing even, and get us nowhere except back where we started over 3 weeks ago.

WRONG.

It was easy.  It came up again over an amazing sunset dinner in Kauai (See, it never escapes you). I finally allowed myself to get into it. Instead of glazing over the topic with our usual rhetoric, I finally asked what I'd been wondering these last few weeks. "How are you feeling now?" "What do you think the future holds for us?"  "Are you worried?"... Afraid he'd say yes. His answer was simple. "There's nothing we can do about the past, we just have to keep moving forward. We'll get through this." It was vague. Vagueness usually sets me over the edge... I want to know what you're really thinking! But this time it was perfect. His sincerity and confidence said so much more than his actual words. I finally felt at ease. And a little ridiculous. 

We discussed our feelings in the beginning. We both knew how we felt immediately after the miscarriage. It was that time since that everything felt chaotic and distant. Like we were ignoring, almost hoping to forget what we'd been through. 

I didn't want to forget. It was part of our story. It was part of us. 

We hadn't forgotten. We'd just continued living. Holding each other up and providing each other strength without saying a word. Without needing to "talk". 

I forget, especially as a military spouse who has spent 2 years away from my husband, just how strong our unspoken bond is. We know what the other is thinking and feeling without having to speak. We have each others back and we know when we need to speak up. 

This time we didn't.

I guess I felt we needed to have "the talk" because all you hear is how important it is for couples to communicate. "Communication is key". What I didn't realize is how well we communicate without saying a word.

We both felt the hurt and sadness from our loss, yet we both knew we would  be okay. No matter what, we would have each other. No matter how difficult this time has been for the both of us, we both have faith in His plan.

And can I just say, I love the way my husband folds his shirts... 

Where are we?

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind..... of emotions, schedules, good news, bad news... It doesn't end. They say bad things come in 3's, I'm not sure how many more "triplets" I can take. But things are finally looking up.

They don't warn you that after a miscarriage your hormones are almost as out of whack as they are after you give birth. Over the course of a week, I went from shock to sadness to frustration to denial to depression to JUST PLAIN PISSED.... Sometimes all those emotions at once. Three weeks later and I still find myself questioning the reality of what happened. Did that really happen to us? Will it happen again? Will we ever have a baby of our own? WHY!?...are the questions that pop in my head on the hour.

I find myself sitting on the beach of Hanalei Bay in Kauai (YEP!) and I still cant find contentment. Don't get me wrong...  I realize how absolutely blessed we are to have the opportunity to spend a week here and I'm enjoying every minute I get to spend with my love, but my thoughts haunt me. Here, I have nothing but time to think. To the left of us sits a young couple much like ourselves, and to the right is another couple with a baby (maybe 6 months old and the mom looks DAMN good!). Both seem very happy, but I can't help but envy the life of the couple to our right and scoff at those to our left. I used to treasure the lack of responsibility we once had, and now I long for it (responsibility that is). We're ready, why wasn't He?

 Part of me is thankful for the "whirlwind" this last few weeks... It has given me time to focus on other things and forget about our tragedy. Then again, I don't want to forget. I want to move on, but I can't.  We moved two houses across three states, "sold" our house in Texas and then lost the buyer last minute thanks to a doof for a loan officer (so now we're paying a mortgage and rent), I left my job, and the government has its head up its ass! Great news for a now single income military family. As bad as it all seems, we can see the rainbow through the rain clouds. We know it will all "work out in the end" and one day we'll "laugh at all the craziness"... I just want it to be that day... That's both the optimism and impatience in me...

So here we are in Hawaii living the life, dreaming of a different one. Trying to get perspective and gain understanding. I'm thankful for this break from reality and opportunity to BE with my husband and understand just where we are emotionally. When the miscarriage occurred, we were 600 miles apart and finishing up important jobs. I was finishing my last semester of teaching and he was completing another chapter of pilot training.  We both knew how upset we were when the miscarriage happened, but we didn't discuss our emotions at the time. We still haven't. I had to be strong for him so he could finish his last week of training and GET HOME! He had to be strong for me because that's what husbands do. Since then, we've been so busy we just haven't had the time (or strength) to really get into it. We met with our new ObGyn when we got to Tucson. My husband came with me, but as soon as we sat down in the waiting room, I wished he hadn't come. I knew I couldn't be strong for him anymore. The thought of even mentioning what had happened (knowing I'd have to recount our experience at least 2 more times to the doc and nurse) was unimaginable . I knew I'd lose it.... I was losing it just thinking about it. I was afraid he'd lose it too... He almost did a few days before. I forget what I said but his voice cracked in response and that's when I knew just how important it was to talk. He had been just as shattered by this experience as I was.

 We met our new ObGyn. She was fantastic! She calmed our fears and gave us renewed hope. I felt at peace with our situation for the first time. It was kind of like eating a giant banana split... We both felt great about it at the time, but within an hour we were doubting our judgement. Of course she was going to be positive and optimistic on our behalf, but we all knew there was no guarantee that everything would be okay. We remain hopeful, but there's still that question in the back of our mind.

I've heard from so many people since my first posts... friends, family, strangers.... Most of them (many of them) who had been through a similar situation. Some had one miscarriage and went on to have healthy babies immediately, others had multiple before getting their miracle. The responses validated the truth. The truth of just how common this is, yet no one talks about it. Of the family and friends who responded, I had no idea what they had been through and it broke my heart. I wished I could have been there for them like they've done for me. I just hope my voice speaks for others.

The optimism in me is fading. I hate it, it's not me. But I have to be realistic. I have to prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. Having one miscarriage doesn't mean that we'll have another, but it does raise our chances (only slightly, but it does). I try to think about the stories I hear about one miscarriage leading to healthy pregnancies, but I can't help but consider the opposite.

Things are getting better... One thing at a time. I will continue to be patient, optimistic, realistic, and hopeful. I will cherish this time with my husband, and take the opportunity to understand his feelings. To understand just how this has affected us both. I will continue looking up.