Today I am going to make an effort to try to be more of a person. For the last couple of days I have been not much use for anything. Every ounce of my energy was used to not cry in front of GM or to not go off on a rage on unsuspecting people like my Mother. It didn’t always work.
I could feel a small shift in my body last evening when I noticed that I smelled. It was a sort of weird belly button funk odor but it was coming from all of me. Rather than tilt my nose in another direction I got off the couch and took a shower.
Being in the shower is a great place to cry. Just file that bit of information away in case you need it some day.
I won’t say that I felt like this great new person when I got out of the shower. I mean I felt clean and smelled a hell of a lot better, but it didn’t make me better.
I am realizing that life is going to keep going on around me. The world doesn’t stop just because my beta did. I do have some strong armor on though. The armor is what gets me through those motherfucking Johnson & Johnson, “a baby changes everything” commercials. Guess what- NOT having a baby changes things too.
The armor is also getting me through celebrity baby bump news and message board, “It’s twins!” blinkies and the mail. Yes. Even my mail is hard. Two days ago I got a New Year’s card from a good friend and it was all about how thrilled she was that I was pregnant. Yesterday I got a letter from the Northeast Clinic detailing the state of my frozen embryos.
I think my rage has dulled and in its place is sadness. I am feeling the loss now. Even though it was just a blip, an iota of a maybe, I wanted it. Even when I blogged about not believing it was real or compared it to other blips, don’t ever doubt that I wanted it.
This morning I e-mailed NEC with some practical questions that I need to know. I asked how much a frozen embryo transfer would cost. I asked if they shipped frozen embryos to other clinics & if so how much that would cost. And I asked if there were discounts given to women that opted to donate an embryo or two to another woman. (something I am pretty sure I won’t be able to do anyhow because I used a sperm donor)
This is a big step for me- the wanting to find out just what my obstacle is. I can’t bitch about things in the abstract. I need to know the price tag of my bitching.
Now for some random blog business:
1) I am working with a company to move this blog to my own domain. Once I do this I will be able to run a few ads on this site. Currently this blog platform will not allow ads to be placed. Who knows if ads will bring in anything, but it could be a start.
2) I turned off comments on the last post before I published the post. There were no mean of hurtful comment left that made me do it. Really I just needed to write and purge and rage and I needed to do it without you guys feeling like you needed to prop me up. I am so lucky in that I know you are all here for me. I don’t doubt it at all.
3) Thank you for all of the plaid posts. That was really touching and sweet.
4) I am so so behind in blog reading right now. It might be a while before I catch up. This is not about you. I am not really in a happy place at the moment. I could force the happy, lord knows I have before, but this time I am not.
Now I want to talk about something kind of tough. I want to talk about the difference between a chemical pregnancy and a miscarriage. Before I started trying I had never heard of a chemical. In fact there was a moment that I thought all IVF pregnancies were called chemical because they were made in a lab with, um, chemicals.
What I want to talk about is the weight that each phrase has. Does one weigh more than the other? And I am not talking about the pain Olympics here. I mean when you hear the phrase “it was a chemical pregnancy” does it hit you in the gut the same way as hearing “it was a miscarriage”? Is calling it something other than a miscarriage a way of prettying it up? Dumbing it down?
I bring this up because I am one that needs/wants to label things. I honestly don’t know if I am having a chemical or a miscarriage.
Actually neither of those words are bringing me any comfort. I feel like I was pregnant for 5 days and then when I heard about the beta my brain told me that I was unpregnant. But am I pregnant until I bleed? Did I stop being pregnant when the beta farted out?
I know, not a rosy subject…but I know that so many of you have been through losses and I just want to talk about the words we use. What words were right for you? Did it matter?
{ 35 comments… read them below or add one }
A chemical pregnancy means you had a positive test but did not have it confirmed by ultrasound. Yes, technically it’s a miscarriage, albeit an early miscarriage, but I’ve always felt that a miscarriage after more weeks and seeing it on screen would be way worse. And that’s why I don’t say I had a miscarriage, but then again my numbers were lower than yours and I bled quicker so maybe that makes a difference – I never allowed myself to have hope which I would have done if I’d had your second beta. Not that I am suggesting that a chemical is in any way a picnic. I was in such pain after my last chemical. But anyway, I’m glad you are starting to get up and ask questions and figure stuff out. I always find that a shower helps somehow. Not that it takes the pain away, but you feel like maybe you could be ready to join humanity again at some point. And that in itself is a pretty big step.
As always, I am thinking of you.
What has happened to you happened to me seven times, so I really do know what it feels like. My heart truly is breaking for you, Cali. Terminology? I preferred miscarriage or early loss. “Chemical” for me was so clinical – an indication that these cells weren’t really anything yet anyway, but to me, they were everything and I grieved every single time my HCG dipped. I grieved for what could have been and to me, they were babies.
I am delurking because your beta’s were very similiar to mine when I did IVF. I guess I was hesitant to call mine a chemical because when I thought about it, I had embryo’s transferred into my uterus and from that moment, I was pregnant until proven otherwise. When my beta came back lower than the norm and then doubled but still lower than the norm…I knew that the embies weren’t going to stick around and that I’d have to miscarry them.
I have also had what I would call a chemical pregnancy with a beta of 6 that went to 10 and back to 7 and then 4. Those numbers to me were so much lower than my previous beta’s and the aftermath was so different than the others…to me that just made sense and that’s how I decided to look at it. I guess it all depends on how you want to, ya know.
I’m very sorry that this has happened to you but I’m thankful to see you pulling up a bit…
d-
I love your new look. I love you.
In my humble opinion, to miscarry holds more weight, if you will.
I truly think that ALL “chemical” pregnancies are miscarriages. Because cells divided. They imbedded. They produced HCG. Those cells were the beginning. And now it’s ending.
And that sucks.
And it sucks no less no matter the term, but I do feel that you indeed are about to miscarry.
And for that, as you know, we are all sorry. so very very sorry.
love you
Technically, a chemical pregnancy is a pregnancy that ends before it is seen on an ultrasound. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from copious amounts of time spent on the Eff Eff. I had never heard of a chemical pregnancy before all of this business, either. And I think it is a crap term, personally. It sounds so… condescending. Like, “Oh honey, you didn’t have a REAL pregnancy, you had a CHEMICAL pregnancy.” Like is was made of MSG and xanthan gum. Then again, lots of medical terms are impersonal and condescending. *sigh*
I say that whatever you want to call it, it’s a pregnancy loss. Period. It’s not better or worse or as bad as anyone else’s pregnancy loss, it’s YOUR pregnancy loss, and however it is in your head and heart is how it is.
When I lost Punk’s twin, I was told by someone who is now not my friend that I wasn’t allowed to call it a dead baby because her friend had a REAL dead baby (birthed a child who lived a month or so and died). The inference, of course, was that I had a FAKE dead baby.
Those iotas were babies in our hearts, and that pregnancy was growing in our hearts, too – not in chemicals.
I am so sorry for your loss and I continue to pray for miracles, whatever they may be and however they may manifest.
Manifest, Cali. Manifest.
My thoughts and prayers have been with you over the last several days…
I had a miscarriage at 9 + weeks back in October. I saw the P-Pod at 6 weeks and everything was fine, but went back in at 9 weeks and the baby had died…what really pissed me off was when I went for the D&C and on my chart it said “Missed ABORTION”, I asked the nurse to please scratch that “A” word off my chart.
I think whether it’s chemical or miscarriage, the hurt is all the same…
I pray the days get easier for you. Time heals all wounds, such a cliche remark but it really is true…
There are a lot of people out here in blogland who care and worry about you…hang in there.
I don’t really have an answer. What I had two years ago was considered a chemical, but my doctor, bless his heart, said a loss was a loss and heaped sympathetic kindness on me.
I’m thinking of you so much.
xoxoxo
I love the new look, too. It’s good to see you again. I love you.
I think a loss is a loss and very hard to deal with. I am so sorry you are going through this Cali.
I have too discovered the whole crying in the shower thing and it seems to help some. Yesterday I felt so bad for you. As far as what to call it? When I had my chemical back in October it was incredibly frustrating to have everyone asking if it worked and me saying well sort of, it was a chemical pregnancy and then having to go on and explain what a chemical pregnancy was. I felt like calling it a miscarriage but then felt like I would be lying by saying that. Whatever you call it, it’s a loss. Because even for that little bit, even with a beta that was lower than what you wanted, you were pregnant and any way you look at it you lost that hope and excited that came with it. Hugs to you.
I always have found rage to be easier to deal with than sadness, and I agree that the shower is a great place to cry.
I think what you are going through is a loss, pure and simple, whatever tag you put on it (miscarriage or chemical), and you need to mourn it in any way you need to It’s a pisser and it’s terrible and I am so freaking sorry.
Lots of love, my darlin’. Today and always.
The term “miscarriage” brings with it so much weight. It seems to account for the pain and the loss more than “chemical preganncy” does. The term “chemical pregnancy” implies that there wasn’t ever anything there, that there’s less of a reason to feel devastated, but there was. I suppose it’s all a matter of choice and associations with the terms. I can’t claim to have experienced either, but for those of us trying to get pregnant with such intent, any loss, no matter how small the blob of cells, is a loss–a miscarriage.
I’m glad to hear that you will soon have your own domain (with ads!). You should be able to bring in a little bit of income, and you’ll have a good deal more freedom with your design, not to mention your blog should have the opportunity to grow even more. Great news!
As for crying in the shower, I’ve long believed it’s the best place for a good cry. When I have a good strong cry in the shower, I usually feel a little clearer when I get out.
Take care, you. xoxo
I think you raise a good question here: for people really do judge the *degree* of the loss.
“Oh – you miscarried? How far along were you?”
The second question seems to always follow the first. And then a silence as you watch them mentally tally up your pain.
The further along, the more “right” you have to grieve.
The term chemical pregnancy seems a rather useless one to me, really. One doesn’t produce hCG until an embryo is implanted in the womb, which is a pregnancy. Not a chemical stew. To my way of thinking it’s a miscarriage.
I miscarried at 10 weeks. It was devastating. I’m grateful it wasn’t a stillbirth at 20. But – that’s my call to make, I’d hate for someone to tell me that “at least it happened at 10 weeks.” Or that, as a pp experienced, that my baby wasn’t really dead. Ouch.
Take care of you.
a
To me, there is no difference between chemical pregnancy and miscarriage. The loss and the grieving is the same.
Came over from Lost and Found. Having had several chemical pregnancies, I will not pretend to know exactly what you are feeling, but I know what I felt. And what I felt was DEVASTATED. In a post a few days back, you said that you felt bad for being so upset when there was so little hope. Hope is what keeps us going, hope is what makes us do all of these crazy treatments. Losing hope can be the biggest devastation of all.
I just wanted you to know that I am thinking of you and wishing that you didn’t have to hurt so much, that life wasn’t so hard.
The words matter. But I don’t know what words are right for you.
For us miscarriage was the right word, sometimes. Although I talk about ours in deadbaby terms, those never feel entirely right, for us because I have seen a dead *baby*. But that doesn’t mean ours or yours wasn’t a baby, just that the term never quite fit for me after that experience. But I still say deadbaby, or deadbabydisaster sometimes when I’m wanting to convey the shittiness and pain of it, because somehow miscarriage doesn’t cut it either. I think “chemical pregnancy” is a crap fucking term that sounds not sad enough…and not real. Like it was *just* a chemical pregnancy. Which makes me mad. But that is just me. I know Bri hated the term miscarriage. WTF hated miscarriage too and hated it when people said “sorry for your loss”, like she “lost” something. I liked the term pregnancy loss, because it did feel to us like we lost our hopes and dreams for that baby, like they got sucked out along with the “products of conception”. Seriously. That is what they call it. What is wrong with Western Medicine?!?
Everyone is entitled to ask people to use the words they want or don’t want, and I hope no one compares that to the pain olympics. I think the hard part of this conversation is that for some people the earlier the baby died (or however one wants to say it), the less sad they are. But to assume that is true for everyone? Fuck no. And there might be some reason for wanting to distinguish for others when the loss occurred (progression from chemical to miscarriage to dead baby), but the timing of the becoming unpregnant truly has nothing to do with how someone FEELS about the loss…the individual experience of the pain, devastation, hopelessness. Nothing. Some people cry for years and decades after a miscarriage. For others they move through it more quickly without tons of grief. For others it depends on what happened afterward. I imagine I would still be thinking about our miscarriage every fucking day if we had not been able to try again right away.
This pregnancy for you is real. Real to you. Real to your family, real to us. As is your grief. And you have every right to call “becoming unpregnant” whatever feels like the best fit in a situation where nothing really feels right. No words, even though the words still matter, are adequate to convey the deep, complex pain and shame and self abuse and bitterness and gut wrenching sadness, that I imagine you are experiencing.
xoxo.
The new look of the site is great. You have been, and will continue to be, in my prayers.
I wish I could give you the ultimate reach through cyberspace to make it all fall into place. I can tell you that I think you are very strong and wish more than anything that you didn’t have to go through all of this. You are in our thoughts and prayers. Sending our love and warm thoughts.
I only found you, through Shelli & Jen & Cait, after your first beta. I am so sorry this has happened. I agree wholeheartedly that the shower is the best place to cry, heck it is a great place to wail!
As far as I am concerned both of my babies died. I detest the term miscarriage and I hate the term “I lost a baby”. When referring to those times I simply say “My baby died”
For me, a miscarriage is a miscarriage. I hate the term chemical pregnancy. I agree with Jude – what, was my baby in Aug of 06 made of hydrochloric acid or something? No. I had a positive test, after which I was happy and excited to finally be pg again, than a negative test after which I was devastated. It was a loss.
Sure, technically you are having a chemical pg cause no one saw the baby on an ultrasound and blah blah blah. However, it is a loss to you, your family and to us. I’m so sorry you have joined this club.
As the other ladies have said Chemicals are pregnancies that end before they can be seen on ultrasound, however, I do know that some doctors consider the beta number as well. My pregnancy ended at 5 weeks and when I asked my RE he said no you had a miscarriage. Small comfort but at least I felt like it wasn’t all in my head. That someone had acknowledged that I had lost something. The term chemical makes it seem so clinical, like a mistake in a lab or something, and doesn’t get to the heart of the gut wrenching pain that you feel when it happens to you.
BTW a good cry does wonders ((hugs))
It sucks to go through it at all. Between 2 deemed “early loss” and ectopic and losing the twin from that at 8 weeks.. One was not easier then the others. The changes in your body, the hcg however fleeting, the emotion crap that goes along with multiple tries, going to failures. Like Laura, I never “lost a baby” I hate that almost as much as chemical.
I wish all the best for you adn that you find peace in your soul.
Delurking to add my sympathy. I was never lucky enough to have children (although I always wanted several) and then I had an emergency hysterectomy at age 45. Even then, I felt a sense of loss of what could have been, so losing a pregnancy, no matter how early on, must be totally devastating. Especially one you’ve worked so hard to achieve. I’ve followed your saga for some time, and truly feel your sadness. I, too, would call it a miscarriage. Even though I don’t know you personally, I do know you are a wonderful, loving person. Just look at how you take care of your GM! And the stork appearing, well, that just blew me (and all of us, I’m sure) away. We were so hoping that was THE sign. It’s so good that you have this wonderful network of ladies who’ve gone through the same ordeal to support you. My prayers are with you, dear Cali, and I hope the universe delivers you peace.
I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. I know how heart-wrenching it can be. I too lost a pregnancy pretty early on. Less than a week after we found out I started bleeding. My beta went down, back up, up again, and finally down to zero. We knew from the first blood test that it wasn’t viable. Even when the beta went up. I don’t honestly know when I technically miscarried. I can definitely relate to you on that. Often there isn’t a sign or a concrete line. Which can make it that much more difficult. For me, I preferred the word miscarriage and I was thankful that my doctor’s office used that word as well. For me the term “chemical pregnancy” felt belittling. Like my loss and my pain wasn’t as valid as someone who miscarried later. Like I was supposed to just get over it and move on because it wasn’t a “real” pregnancy. But the fact is there was a baby, and there was a pregnancy, and there was that hope. Sometimes even “miscarriage” didn’t seem strong enough for what I was feeling. Every woman is different and I think you will find the words that feel right to you.
It’s a miscarriage. I’m sorry, but “chemical” doesn’t apply here, you know? It makes it seem insignificant. And what happened isn’t insignificant. Not to you. And if someone asks how far along you were, tell them you were over 2 years along. Or long enough to start picking out paint colors.
Love you. And love the new look.
I think a miscarriage happens when you have had a baby in your mind, and then its gone. A friend of mine had a gestational sac with no embryo, but the baby was real to her; we are all born in our mothers minds first.
{{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}} I can feel your rage and I am so sorry you are dealing with all thesee miserable feelings.
( It is so not fair!
I too had too questioned a “chemical Pregnancy” vs. a miscarriage. Whatever the case, I think it would be equally emotionally painful. ;o( I think on the whole, a chemical pregnancy would be a very early m/c, before your 1st U/S. Many people have chemical pregnancies and don’t know it. Women who do fertility treatment know they have a chemical only because of the early testing.
I hope you start to feel better soon and not feeling so alone in this maddening TTC journey. *hugs*
So what I have learned over the years is that a chemical pregnancy is one in which an embryo attaches, but does not thrive, and therefore cannot be seen on the ultrasound. An early miscarriage. But that doesn’t matter to me. I have had chemicals and m/c’s and they both hurt like hell. There are some people who might disagree, but that’s them and this is me.
I know people who have had chemicals, and they shake it off, move on, and never think of it again, unbothered for the most part. I know people who are devastated by them (like you, like me). It was a life, growing inside of you. How can you not be sad? Devastated?
Answers are helpful. What did the clinic say? Can you tell us? We can all put our heads together on this.
i don’t really have an answer for you. i’ve had a chemical and a m/c. my m/c was quite violent. the chemical had a much quieter ending. they both hurt emotionally. the difference was that i walked around longer thinking i was pregnant with the m/c. a loss is a loss. stop being so hard on yourself and definitely don’t force the happy. what you are feeling is very real and very valid. ugh i wish i could make it better for you.
Delurking again to send out cyber hugs and a rope to pull you through this morass. I experienced something similar (had a beta of 159 that dropped to 125 2 days later). I bled a couple of days later. What worked for me was to call it an early miscarriage. Nothing more, nothing less. That cut off any comments or questions about its ‘legitimacy.’
You’ll figure out what language works for you. I wish you a speedy journey through this sadness.
xoxo
cali, a loss is a loss, and grief is grief. plain and simple. call it what you will, it still sucks. I do love Jude’s comment.
and good for you for trying to get back on your feet and think about how to take that next step. it’s hard when we can’t even get off the couch/out of bed, I know. I really hope you can bring in some ad revenue to help pay for an FET. it sucks to not have options.
and yes, a good long hot shower is a lovely place for a sad cry. so very cleansing, in more ways than one. I think tears cleanse the spirit, they release pressure and serve an important part of our healing, letting go… ~luna
When I had my loss in September/October this past year, I felt this same question. My doctor initially said it was a “Bio-Chemical Pregnancy” until I began to bleed on her exam table. She then said I was miscarrying. Of course that was followed a week later with “ectopic”, but that’s beside the point.
When my doctor said “bio-chemical” I felt invalidated. Like what I had created…the thing inside of me producing hCG, was not real. I felt like I was just told that I had no right to have ever said that I was “pregnant”. I felt like my right to have any hopes and dreams pinned to that positive beta were negated. But none of that was true. I was angry.
A chemical or bio-chemical pregnancy is an early-term miscarriage. Regardless of what you call it though, it’s a loss. There was life, if only for a brief moment, and it is gone. You have every right to be angry, sad, confusde, or any other emtion that you feel.
I hope you’re able to find a way to heal.
I am so so sorry for your loss and for your pain. ♥
Honestly, I use the word miscarriage, because it is common terminology. And most people don’t want to hear the gory details that accompany a miscarriage, the word is loaded and seems to stop people in their tracks. I didn’t want to have to detail my experience for most people, so it served its purpose. I had never heard the term “chemical pregnancy” before FF, and I generally don’t use that word. Actually, no words could ever describe what I went through (and I am still going through) so I am not too hung up on terminology. Thinking of you.