Thoughtful Thursday: Worst

August 27, 2009

Thoughtful Thursday

I have another post in my to-be-written Thoughtful Thursday queue that is perfect for this week’s events. But, emotionally I am not in a place to write that post today. We’ll try again next week.

Instead, I will address a topic that is easier for me but probably harder for you. If this is the easy topic for me, you must be asking yourself, what’s coming next week? First things first.

What was the worst day of your life?

This topic came to me Tuesday night, my first night in the hospital. As my husband, shockingly, got a full night’s sleep on the daybed, I tossed and turned and sobbed in my Kraftmatic adjustable labor putting-off-labor bed.

The worst day? What about that day, so many years ago, when a boyfriend tried to rape me? Naaah, that’s nothing compared to this.

Snapshots of Tuesday that make it a candidate for worst:

  • Being told by MFM at weekly cervical check to drive immediately to the hospital but drop by the house and pack a bag first.
  • I brought the book I happen to be in the middle of reading, Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Twins. Every few sentences I’d have to put the book down and cry at the thought that I might not have twins, or any babies, to bring home. The Pottery Barn catalog that we grabbed from the mailbox when we went home to pack a bag did not lead to crying, but I couldn’t simultaneously hold it up and turn the pages because of the pain in my hand from my poorly-placed IV. (Fourth IV turned out to be the charm.)
  • Alternating between thinking that the worst part would be losing these babies that I love so much, or that it would be worse to have to go back to fertility treatments after I thought I was done. I don’t know if that makes me a horrible person, or just a battered infertile.
  • Not being able to be alone with my thoughts for more than 60 seconds without crying. Not at all like me, as most of you know.
  • At the first hospital, dealing with the one midwife from my practice that I hate (out of 3 OBs and 6 midwives). She was the one on call two weeks ago at my non-stress test too. DH was out of the room whenever she was there during my first hospital visit, and he hadn’t accompanied to me to the routine appointment a couple of months ago when I met her the first time. At one point when she left the hospital room on Monday, I whispered to DH, “She’s the one I don’t like.” DH said, “I can tell.” I asked, “Because of how she is or because of my reaction to her?” DH said, “Both, but more because of her. Everyone else here is normal.” Another time I’ll tell you why I hate her so much. You will hate her too.
  • Signing consent for emergency delivery in the ambulance.
  • OB’s talk of delivery 3 to 4 weeks from now (31 to 32 weeks) as the unlikely best case scenario.
  • When finally left alone with DH in the first hospital, crying, then pulling myself together halfway. When the lovely, cheerful nurse came to tell me that the ambulance would be ready soon, she asked me how I was doing. I did not give her a pat answer and instead just looked at her teary-eyed and speechless. Her cheerfulness turned to intense sympathy. I don’t know if anyone has ever looked at me quite like that before. I don’t know how I feel about being on the receiving end of a look like that.
  • Ambulance ride was actually kind of fun at times, but needing to be in an ambulance was not. Even worse was that I actually stole it out from under another woman in Labor and Delivery who was supposed to be transported to another hospital, because I was much more urgent.
  • Signing consent for emergency c-section, just in case.
  • Meeting with anesthesiologist to talk about c-section options (she actually was quite pleasant, as almost everyone has been; both hospitals are full of outstanding bedside manner that makes me glad I don’t live in most of the places I used to live where people weren’t nearly so nice).
  • Much talk about delivering imminently.
  • Being told to expect a consult with a neonatologist and a NICU tour the next day.
  • At both hospitals, being asked if I was “prepared” to bring the babies home, with cribs, car seats, etc. Standard labor and delivery question. No, I am not prepared — it is too early. I suggested to DH that we place the orders instead of waiting for people to buy them off our not-really-publicized-because-it-has-been-too-early registry. Then I reconsidered, not wanting to end up with two of everything when I might need only one. Or zero.
  • Lying in bed, unable to shift to get remotely comfortable thanks to my catheter and IV, without any distraction but my almost-out-of-battery iPod. I tried to make myself sleepy with soothing songs, but every soothing song I could find made me burst into tears. Just like I can find infertility content in songs that have nothing to do with infertility, I can find Dead Baby and doom messages in anything, even songs that are supposed to hopeful. To top it off, blowing my nose after crying with every song hurt the catheter site terribly (eventually when I called the nurse to fix it, when I was in constant pain, we figured out why: it seems to have been jostled out of place just a bit, just enough to hurt, during the ambulance transport). Anyway, I didn’t want to listen to happy, upbeat songs that would make me un-sleepy. But, being alone in silence with my thoughts was worse. I tried a creative visualization, the first time I’ve ever tried that particular one, and it was good for 30 seconds at a time until my mind would wander to Dead Baby Thoughts. The only thing that eventually put me to sleep without crying, for a whopping one hour (after caving and agreeing to sleep medication!), was Radiohead. OK Computer is my go-to album when I’m upset. I should have just gone to it automatically at a time like this, but I don’t want it to take on bad connotations by bringing it out every time I am deeply upset. Let’s hope there aren’t too many times like this in the future.

Why the day loses the Worst prize:

  • 24 hours later, my babies are still inside.

Instead, the Worst Day of My Life prize belongs to the day of my first miscarriage because that cloud did not end with a silver lining.

The current cloud has glimmers of silver so far, with potential for a complete lining or even full-blown silver through and through. Still a chance of rain, but I’m trying to keep looking out for the silver.

What was the worst day of your life? If it’s too awful to describe, I suppose you can just say that, but at least tell us whether there was any silver lining.

35 Responses to “Thoughtful Thursday: Worst”

  1. Tam Says:

    Oh my word, I’m so sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own world that I had no idea that things were not all well with you and the babes.

    I’m praying for ya sweetie, those babies need to stay put for a while to come.

    Keep looking our for that silver sweetie, you are strong and you’ll get thru this. Big hugs xxx

  2. Ana Says:

    Don’t have anything to say for this one, just thinking about you & hoping for you.

  3. Kristin Says:

    The worst day of my life was only a few weeks after a truly awesome day. Just over 5 yrs ago, I was 6 weeks pregnant and had finally, finally had an ultrasound where we saw a heartbeat after 4 losses in a a row. 3 weeks later, I was at my parents’ house with the boys. When I put my progesterone suppository in, I saw a little bit of blood. I completely wigged out and woke my dad up to go to the ER to be checked. They couldn’t find my little girl’s heartbeat. The next morning, I called my OB’s office and arranged an appointment for the first thing the following morning. I was able to leave the boys with my parents and drove home. Let me tell you, 2 hours alone in a car with nothing but dead baby thoughts to keep you company SUCKS. I was clinging to the hope that the ER ultrasound sucked but truly wasn’t hopeful. The next morning, June 17th, the ultrasound the said those horrible words…”I’m so sorry. There isn’t a heartbeat”…and I had my 4th D&C.

  4. birdless Says:

    I have to admit, I skipped ahead on this post, praying for a happy ending to help me through it. Thank GOD. I did go back and read the whole thing then though. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, and I’m praying that everything is easier from here on out.

  5. BB Says:

    I am speechless… but I am praying for your all! Warm hug your way!

  6. Chelle Says:

    OMG-I am so happy you and the babies are doing okay. I can’t tell you how many times I burst into tears yesterday thinking of you. I am just SO relieved to know that the babies are still in there and you are okay too.

    My worst day (as of yet in my life) was my miscarriage. There was no silver lining in that day other than a testimate to what we (humans in general) can live through.

  7. ^WiseGuy^ Says:

    I am so glad that for everything that went wrong that day, it ended with the good news. I wan that to be.

    What was the worst day of your life?

    The worst day of my life is non-IF related…it is not the day I almost died twice, or got my IVF outcome blathering in my face, it is something that happened in 1995-96.

    It is kind of like a chewing gum, so won’t go into the nuts and bolts of it, but it was the time I lost the trust my parents had vested in me.

    I hid something from my parents, and I had to say lie after lie to cover my tracks. Added to it, a cousin chanced upon the lie and he blackmailed me over it, and the perpetrator of this thing-to-begin-with shared my telephone number with his friends, and they started calling at odd times and talking crappy.

    It all came to a massive showdown one evening that I had to endure, and one of my other cousins was there, and he carried the gossip home to his family, and so I was known for that incident in a number of families that mattered to me.

    I was sitting on my parent’s bed and whatever happened made me want to sink and die right there.

    I began from the beginning and told my parents everything, and the guilt of keeping it hidden dissipated. I was shouted at. While it was happening another idiot called my father.

    I lost their faith.

    The silver lining is that I have regained all that faith.

    Be good.

  8. First, I’m glad to read you and the babies are still doing OK.

    The five years of IF are certainly the worst years of my life, but luckily I didn’t experience loss, just failure.

    I think the worst day of my life might actually have been only a few weeks ago (and has nothing to do with IF). I don’t feel like going into too much detail over the reason, but the thing was that my hubby got really really mad at my parents. It had happened before, but then he would just vent to me over their behavior, this time he jelled at my dad over the phone. Of course my dad got very upset, my mom cried, and so did I. I always try to keep the peace and this really shattered my world – we had a two-week old baby, everyone should be happy – instead it seemed at that moment that things had gone irreparably wrong. A very awkward week followed and then a surreal visit when we went to Holland for vacation and came to their house on my dad’s birthday (house full of guests, so no way to talk things through). Hubby and dad have talked since, things have calmed down, but something else happened shortly afterward that made hubby jell again (but this time again only to me – but I did relay his grievances to my parents a bit later) that he never wanted to see them anymore, that he didn’t want them in our son’s life, etc. Some time has passed and I think he didn’t really mean it, but deep down I’m afraid he did, and that indeed, things are beyond repair. I hope time will bring the silver lining and relations will somewhat get back to normal.

  9. christyna Says:

    I have 2 so far:
    when I knew it was over and actually walked out on my Husband with a few bags packed, feeling so empty and like I ruined my son’s life

    my miscarriage 2 years ago labor day

  10. Rebecca Says:

    I’m glad they’re still inside.

    The worst day of my life was spread out from 3pm on a Wednesday to 3pm on a Thursday last April. My dad went missing. Was missing, suicidal, we had a note, it didn’t look good. The police were looking for him, there were people looking everywhere and everyone tried to tell us to stay positive, but my mother and I knew.

    The police liaison people arrived on the Thursday morning and even they still held out hope that we’d find him alive. At just after 1pm the police were informed otherwise. He had drowned himself in a local river.

    No silver lining at all.

  11. Brenna Says:

    Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Your (almost) worst day sounds an awful lot like what was absolutely my worst day (worst week? worst weeks?). Though ours came a bit earlier, at 18 weeks pregnant, and ended two weeks later when our boys were born. Despite the hospitalized bedrest and the around-the-clock antibiotics, our sons arrived too early at 20 weeks and 1 day. Sept. 25, 2008 was without contest the worst day of my life. BUT…you’re so much further along, I have nothing but hope that you and your babies will have a happier story to tell.

  12. I understand. And I’m SO sorry for your almost worst day. And rejoicing for your silver lining. (And hoping that the silver lining sticks for quite a while!)

    My worst day was the day I was diagnosed with early onset HELLP Syndrome. It was out of the blue, and changed – shattered – everything.

  13. Shinejil Says:

    I’m so, so sorry you’re going through this and that circumstances conspired to give you the midwife you didn’t want and physical discomfort on top of the emotional anguish.

    I don’t think I have any single days that I can point to, more like lost weeks or months of anguish. There was a morning of intense joint weeping with my husband over the ectopic (while listening to Mercury Rev, and now I can’t hear that album without wanting to bawl). But nothing acute enough to be boiled down to a single day.

  14. Jules Says:

    While very glad to hear you are still pregnant and such, wow, what a scary situation. I hope you get the full blown silver out of it in the end.

    Worst day going with my first thought was a long time coming / rock bottom sort of deal. Silver lining would be that “time” is over with.

    Yes of course now curious for next week.

  15. t Says:

    oh lady, i wish there was something any of us could do to make all this better. it’s just such a scary thing to have no control over a situation, especially when two little lives are involved. i ache for you and send you as many thoughts of support that i can muster.

    my worst was nearly 6 years ago when i was diagnosed with leukemia. within five minutes of my blood test results after some weird symptoms i was told i had AML (acute myelogenous leukemia), that i would be admitted to the hospital immediately, that i would start chemo the following day and that i would most likely become infertile due to the three month long in-patient treatment.

    silver lining? it’s funny, when i thought about the worst day of my life, this day immediately popped into my head but in such a different way than it once would have. because time heals these wounds. i survived the aggressive treatment, the fear from that day has faded and because of the trauma of that day and the following months of treatment and my subsequent infertility i am now carrying these twins. that would never have happened without this horrible day being part of my life.

    i know there’s no easy way to gain perspective in the heat of a moment. i don’t think i ever believed i would be able to look back at that time with anything but fear. i hope beyond hope that the next few weeks are filled with nothing but calm and quiet waiting. yes, these babes aren’t quite ready but they have a fighting chance right now. they are still growing, they are still fighting. and we are all here to listen and support you both as you fight with them.

    hang in there lady. i know that’s so much easier to say than it is to do. but you’re doing everything you can for these babies. xxoo

  16. jill Says:

    So glad to hear that your babies haven’t come yet. What a horrible thing to have had to go through 😦 You are in my thoughts!!

    There are several different days that I think tie for worst.

    One of them is the day my first husband told me he wanted a divorce. Things had sucked for a while but I was in it for the long haul. I was by no means fault-less in the situation but I just assumed we would do whatever it took to work it out. When he finally said he wanted a divorce my whole world came shattering down around me. Everything felt completely hopeless – like my life was over, there was nothing left.

    I suppose it did eventually have a silver lining. If we hadn’t divorced I wouldn’t be where I am today. Better husband, better job, better house, etc.

  17. MeAndBaby Says:

    Thinking of you and those babies. Hoping that silver lining shows through. I can’t think of my worst day at the moment but my thoughts are with you.

  18. strongblonde Says:

    😦 i’m so glad that everyone is still inside!! reading all of this makes it so i can’t really remember my worst day. or maybe i just don’t want to. probably a toss up between when i got the news that my first pregnancy actually resulted in a creepy cancer, not a baby….or when my uncle was hit by a train. both totally sucky days.

    thinking lots about you!!!

  19. Heather Says:

    You and your babies are in my prayers. My water broke with our twins at 31 weeks. I’m glad to say that they are 13 weeks now and have been home for over a month. I also tried to entertain myself with my iPod when I was admitted to the hospital and had the same issue. Every song made me cry. Hang in there.

  20. Michele Says:

    The worst days of my life are the best days… The days my children were born will always be the best days of my life. But losing them so soon afterwards will always be the worst of feelings.

    Each day is a blessing dear. As I lay in the hospital trying to keep my twins inside for one more day, I am reminded of doing this with our other twins and our single, and remember being helpless to stop labor and worrying nonstop. I still worry but I know it wont help the outcome. We only can think positively and hope for one more day… one more day…

  21. a Says:

    I’m glad to hear the babies are OK and that you’re doing a fine job of keeping them inside. Much luck.

    My worst day had no silver lining.

  22. What an awful day for you! I am so glad that the babies are still inside and that you aren’t contracting currently.

    The Worst Day of My Life prize is surprisingly not related to infertility. It was the day my dad had a stroke, leading to his death a week later. I got a call at work from my hysterical mother, literally hours before I was to leave on a week long very important work trip. I dropped everything and drove half and hour to the hospital and met my mom and sister in our small town’s ER.

    My dad was conscious, but couldn’t speak and was clearly in agonizing pain. Over the next half hour, while the doctors and nurses did nothing, he deteriorated further and further as his brain continued to bleed. He was writhing and moaning and looking at us with wild, fearful eyes while we told him we loved him and that everything was going to be okay, except we knew it wasn’t going to be okay. I remember screaming at the nurses, demanding that he be given something for pain. We were ignored while he started vomiting and losing control of his bodily functions. Finally after two or three hours, he mercifully slipped out of consciousness, and a week later we took him off life support.

    That was definitely the worst day of my life, watching my dad in so much pain, without being able to speak, knowing he was dying and being completely unable to do anything to help him. I really hope that remains the worst day of my life, because I don’t think I could take something worse than that.

    There was a small silver lining though. My then long distance boyfriend (now husband) dropped everything and flew across the country the next day to be there for me. Going through that awful time together brought us so much closer and strengthened our commitment. We moved in together six months later, then got married, and now we are pregnant after infertility.

  23. Photogrl Says:

    I’m glad the babies are listening to you…and staying put.

    My worst day ever was the day I found out I was pregnant, that it was ectopic, and my left tube had ruptured. As I was rolled into emergency surgery to stop the bleeding, I honestly didn’t know if I’d ever see my husband or my daughter (who was 2 at the time) again.

    Silver lining? I think M. and I both love each other a little more, and hug Miss O. tighter because of it.

  24. rosesdaughter Says:

    I’m glad that you all are hanging in there. Stay positive!
    My worst day ever was the day I found out there was no heartbeat. It was the day before Thanksgiving. My DH had just lost his job two days before. It really qualified as the worst WEEK of my life.
    It was really just so unexpected.
    Silver lining? C-Dub and I got closer and this Thanksgiving, God willing, I will have a healthy happy baby in my arms.

  25. I’m very glad that today didn’t win the award for The Worst day. I hope those babies stay in your belly for a long while.

    There is no silver lining to my worst day. Well maybe that’s not true. My worst day is when my mom died. I guess the silver lining could be that I found out how strong I am> And how strong I can be in the face of tragedy.

  26. Lavender Luz Says:

    The worst day of my life looks remarkably like the worst day of your life.

    And then I went to The Bridge.

  27. onepinkline Says:

    I am so glad to hear there was a silver lining…

    The day my Dad died was the worst day of my life. He raised me and my sis – single dad – and was my favorite person in the world. I was 27 at the time.

    And silver lining? Well – I’m sure one will become evident eventually.

  28. Hillary Says:

    I’m so sorry. That almost-worst-day-ever sounds horrible. I’m glad the babies are staying put.

    Reading yours and other people’s worst days makes me feel very blessed…what I would consider don’t seem too horrible in comparison.

    Most acutely emotional day: losing my grandmother who was a kindered spirit.

    Horrible day that told of things to come: finding out about our MFI.


  29. Cat Says:

    I’m so, so glad your babies are still inside.

    I’ve had several worst days in the last few years: finding out my sister was being deployed to Iraq and then the day she left, the day my dad died and being the one to tell my siblings, the following year of litigation by our crazy mother who sued her own daughters for our dad’s/her EX-husband’s life insurance money and the day of mediation to settle it.

    But probably THE worst was the day last Sept when we found out there was no heartbeat after finally getting pregnant after almost three years of trying and then the follow-up ultrasound the next week to confirm the lack of a heartbeat and seeing my husband cry. I did most of my crying in the week between ultrasounds, but he’d still been hopeful that it would work out. That really, really sucked.

  30. My heart goes out to you. Even knowing that twins pregnancies can be tough, dealing with these things are so scary. I hope your two stay in as long as possible so that they are as healthy as possible when they do come out.

    And about wanting this to work out so that you don’t have to do infertility treatments again – this is a reasonable thought. Fertility treatments suck, no two ways about it.

  31. Staciet Says:

    I am so glad that you and the girls are hanging in there. Hugs to you. I know just how scary what you are going through is. Sending strength your way…

    I have had a number of worst days, they all seem to be fairly equal on my suckfest scale. Most recently, I suppose, it was the day I had a confirmation u/s and learned there was no heartbeat on a very much wanted pregnancy. The worst part of the day came later, when I had to use misoprostol to force myself to miscarry. It was horrible. Not a day I’d like to relive, that is for sure.

    The silver lining is that I survived and continue to survive all the crap that life throws my way. I am too damn stubborn to stay knocked down for long. My family gives me too much to live for. 🙂

  32. Callie Says:

    I am so sorry that you’re going through this. I would say I can’t imagine the fear and the sometimes devastating power of one’s own thoughts…but I can as I’m living through a related but different situation as I write this.

    I, too, am a semi-veteran of the infertility trail. Because of my medical history (Stage 1 Ovarian Cancer survivor), we went straight to IVF. The first was canceled due to cysts. The next 2 were unsuccessful. The 3rd worked. I am currently 13 weeks pregnant. I feel guilty as I should be overjoyed; however, the pregnancy has been extremely difficult starting with severe hyperstimulation and not getting any easier from there. This past week we had our 1st trimester genetic screening. Our baby is at extremely high risk for Down Syndrome. One of the markers also indicates that I’m at significantly increased risk of later-stage pregnancy complications. None of that is what qualifies this as the worst week.

    What makes it the worst week is that my husband – long before we even began trying for children – has maintained that it would be his desire to terminate a pregnancy of a developmentally challenged child. He believes its unfair to bring the child into the world so disadvantaged from the start and that he doesn’t have the emotional reserves. I have a strong and lifelong commitment against abortion except in those cases where it is medically necessary or due to rape/incest. I believe I could parent a special needs child. While we still don’t know for sure and are holding out hope, I feel like I’m in the position of making a choice between my husband and marriage (I don’t know that we can survive this decision together), my baby whom I’ve gone through hell and back to bring to this point and whom I already love, and my principles and sense of self and who I am and what I believe. I know what it’s like to be left alone with your thoughts and the power of those thoughts to bring tears and unspeakable fear.

    I pray that your baby girls stay warm and safe inside you for as long as possible. You, your husband, and your babies are on my thoughts and prayers.

  33. Deborah Says:

    Thank God for silver linings. ((((hugs)))

  34. mekate Says:

    Holy shit BSiBS, and I am so sorry this happened to you, and so happy everyone is still where they need to be.
    Gosh darn.
    I can only say this– worst days suck shit, even runners up (runner ups?).
    Silver linings sometimes only expose themselves years later, and sometimes not at all.

    Thinking of you and wishing on you somehow uneventfulness for a while, followed by good good things.

    So scary, oh my goodness,
    sending warm thoughts your way

  35. Nina Says:

    I’m so glad everything is ok, for now. I hope you make it past 32 weeks! Good luck!

    I’ve had what I thought were many “worst days”. I just didn’t know any better. My worst day was the day I was told my daughter had anencephaly and would never live. I had to deliver her, as we were at 18 weeks, and then deal with the aftermath of depression, anxiety, and anger. The silver lining? 10 long months later, I flunked a pregnancy test. I’m now at 23weeks5days with a beautiful (at least on the u/s scan) baby boy named Fletcher. I still cry and grieve, but I know that my baby is waiting for me, and I’m a mom to a girl and a boy.

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