It's 5:30 in the morning here. The sun has just started to creep up over the height of the apartment complex and things are only halfway visible. I woke up to start getting ready for work. We have a big event today at Nordstrom. After we left the hospital yesterday, I texted my Assistant Manager and let her know that I planned on still making it in today. I'm supposed to be speaking in a show that we're holding this morning, as well as giving a few facials and teaching some customers about the benefits of using the Clarins products on their skin. However, I'm still bleeding at a decent rate and I'm not allowed to use tampons to soak it up--probably because those aren't designed to hold clots, I'm guessing. So I'm not going in.
I feel guilty for not being able to go in during an event. I sent about 20 texts to my Assistant Manager this morning giving her information about a few things that I was planning on doing this morning and I know she's already got enough on her plate. And add to that, the segment of time they were planning on me taking up during the show.... well, I don't know what they're going to do with it. I guess this is just the most un-ideal time for this to happen. Next weekend would have been much more convenient. There's nothing going on.
So now I'm wide awake, blogging about working because I can't actually be at work. I must have a disorder of some kind, because everyone else says my body should be a priority and in my head, my responsibilities at work are battling for that position.
Isaac and I talked about the baby off and on all day yesterday. We deal with things very differently. My coping mechanisms are sleeping, writing, and eating. He can't stomach anything, can't sleep, and keeps himself occupied. But at least we talk about it. Counseling has been immensely helpful in us learning to communicate better in situations that I find stressful. We've been going to see Jessica Couch pretty regularly since I ended chemotherapy last year and we love her.
He wanted to call it Dion if it was a boy. I loved Sevita for a girl. We probably going to be due in February and I was planning on taking maternity leave until the middle of April, which was perfectly convenient because Isaac would be ending rotations at that time and could stay home with the baby until we had to move for residency. It was unplanned, but was going to work out absolutely wonderfully, time-wise.
I didn't realize until I miscarried that I had started to want a baby.
For several months before I quit using birth control, I had been gung-ho against having kids until we were back in my beloved Iowa because my emotional life has been emotionally unpredictable since moving for med school. I was depressed for a long time and struggled with some suicidal issues because I felt like I had no support here. I'm extremely slow to make friends, and even slower to trust. Blame it on past relationships or whatever you want, but the fact of the matter is that I'm broken in that area. And then heap cancer, chemotherapy, radiation, medical bills, and being newlyweds on top of that... yikes! I wasn't an anchor for Isaac during that time--I was a deadweight, pulling him down, down, down.
I don't want to do that to a child. He didn't deserve it when it happened and they wouldn't either. So how to prevent it? Well my answer was just don't have kids. Not until you are home in your safety zone surrounded by my Iowa family, friends, and other familiar faces because there you can break down and you know people will help. They've helped before when I was diagnosed and pulled together over $10,000 to help with medical bills and expenses that we couldn't pay for because I couldn't work during treatment. I know I'm safe with them. I trust them.
But then at some point, I started to realize I can't let my fear rule that area of my life, because we may never have children if I do. There's no guarantee that I'll ever live near my Iowa family again, and even less of one during residency. You just take what you get. Even though thinking about it is enough to get me worked into tears again, I think that's just something I have to get used to. It's just extremely hard and very much heartbreaking to me, but it's life. Sometimes life sucks. There are other people whose families aren't even alive anymore, so I just need to think about the fact that mine are living and healthy--even if I can't be with them.
Writing the last couple paragraphs was really hard... exhausting, actually, so I've cried again for a while now and I'm going to go back to sleep. I'll have to finish my thoughts later.
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