I’ve been dreaming occasionally of the baby I lost most recently. I can see her just in the next room, but we are separated by a pane of glass with no door and no way for me to reach her. She is happy, and laughing, and when she sees me she grins from ear to ear. She has my smile, soft brown curls, and my husband’s beautiful brown eyes. Even though I can’t reach her, and I long to hold her, it gives me peace knowing she is there.
Can’t listen to this song without getting teary. Pink wrote this about her own miscarriage, and every word feels so true to me.
Pink- Beam Me Up
Prior to IVF, I was a needle-phobe. I couldn’t even look when I got a shot or had blood drawn at the doctor’s office, and generally had to lay down for a few minutes afterward to compose myself before trying to drive. When we got my first big shipment of IVF medications, syringes and needles in the mail, I was a little bit overwhelmed. “T” is a bigger needle phobe than I am, so I knew I would be on my own as far as the needle sticking went. We developed a system where he would mix up my medicine and get everything ready for me, so all I had to do was give myself the shot. The first few times I tried, my reflexes got the best of me and I ended up stabbing myself several times per shot when I tried to stick it in then instinctively pulled back after the needle already pierced my skin. Gradually I got more used to it, and by the end I must say I was a pro. And it felt kind of badass to overcome a fear like that. Continue reading