rambling complaints

I have a load of bitching to do, based on the fact that since Wyatt died we have so many stupid things to think about that we wouldn’t have had to deal with if he had been okay. Extra maddening: I’m crankier now than I was pregnant! I think the fact that October is coming (with an October 14^th due date he probably would have come this month, whether early, late, or on time) makes me extra sensitive too. Mostly these annoyances have to do with health insurance and money, both of which are, sadly, important.

Health insurance: it did not work. For some reason they are trying to deny us coverage, even though we gave them every single piece of information they asked for, have no pre-existing conditions, and are young and healthy. So:

a. If we try to find other “individual” insurance, not a SINGLE one in Colorado covers maternity expenses. As I previously mentioned, that means if you want to have a baby you better get your finances in order ahead of time because ain’t nobody helping you pay for those visits, the gimmicky delivery room, and those disposable maxi-pad diapers you get when you leave (I stole a couple for later because they are awesome). And if you need anything “extra” then you better have that cash ready! Ps. Our friend seriously struggled to find the one insurance plan that would cover his newborn under three months old. WTF!!

b. While I am not 100% committed to trying to get pregnant again right away, I am ready to get rid of birth control and consider whether I dare go through with this again. If I was financially responsible I would wait until January 2011 because then all health insurance will be mandated to have maternity coverage. So, I can wait, and go crazy waiting, or I can not wait and pay the price. But how can I decide if having a baby, a baby that I want so much, even now more than before, is worth a certain price??! And maybe I won’t get pregnant right away and kick myself even more for waiting!

c. This really could be section C, 1 but whatever. I just want to explain why birth control is making me crazy. I’m not really sure I can though-that’s probably why I want to vocalize it. It’s just that I want a baby so badly I don’t think I should be preventing pregnancy. It’s like the absolute extreme reverse of my early-mid 20s. I’m not saying I want to go to the extreme of tracking my temperature twice a day, peeing on ovulation test sticks and then jumping Hub’s bones when they are positive, or trying to have sex every day or something…just something about birth control feels wrong. Completely wrong. I making myself wait two “cycles” because research told me to (the doctor said one, but I figured an extra couldn’t hurt and really, I can’t completely ignore all that internet advice), but after that I just don’t see the point any more. I want a frickin’ baby! I want to be pregnant; I was just getting into the big belly, good napping stage, you know? I was a great pregnant lady, and I was less than three months away from getting to bring home a little munchkin. Now I’ve got to wait. And what if it takes a year to get pregnant this time? What if we can never make Wyatt a sibling? What if being pregnant gives me some hope and happiness again? What if, what if, what if!?

insurance woes

Since we moved, dearest Hubby has been researching our health insurance options. This is because we were paying way too much for crappy coverage from COBRA and my last job. Let’s say I didn’t get good benefits and Massachusetts is one tough health insurance cookie (good in many ways, bad for my wallet). Oh, and there’s the whole thing about pregnancy being a pre-existing condition. Like it’s a disease or something. Well, since I’m no longer pregnant we immediately switched to short-term insurance that costs—get this—15% of what we paid for COBRA. Amazing, but that’s not going to cut it for much longer. However, lovely Colorado has absolutely zero individual plans that cover maternity expenses. So if you want to have a baby you better be rich, or you have to work somewhere that gives you coverage. Nuts! How unfair is this? You should see how the lawyer in Hubby feels. Why do people whose businesses set them up get better care than others? Discrimination!

Anyway, Hubby figured out how to get his business in the loop and hooked up to health insurance through his company. All problems should thusly be solved. But no. Obviously they are making it very difficult and we’re not sure it’s even going to work; they are asking for all this information Hub’s business doesn’t have (because they are non-profit they are far from “normal”) and as the 1^st of the month comes we have to make our decision all over again. And, at the risk of giving you TMI, I can’t stand much longer using birth control---if you need some advice on condoms I think we’ve tried every gimmicky kind because we thought they might be crazy or fun (they weren’t) so I can help you out. Grrrrreat.

friends and family= A+

We left Colorado for the week; two great people who I’m lucky to have as friends tied the knot in beauteous Vermont and we got invited. Yay! So, we took my mom up on her offer of a free “companion” ticket she can’t use, borrowed a car, visited my family, went to the wedding, and are visiting Hubby’s family too. I know I will never go back to New England without making the rounds—it’s stupid to not have time for people we love. I think losing my baby (he’s not lost, technically, but it’s a simple way to say it I guess) made me realize that I have to get over myself, my introversion, the fact that sometimes people tire me out, and just visit friends and family whenever I can. They won’t always be there, and I sure as hell don’t want to miss ‘em while they’re here! I guess I didn’t really avoid these kinds of people before, I’m not that lame, but now more than ever I want to put myself out there and be pushy and insert myself in their lives at every opportunity. I feel ridiculous that my baby had to die for me to really think about it this way (there must be a better lesson plan somewhere), but such is life I suppose. It’s not easy, it’s not straightforward, it certainly isn’t fair, and even when it feels crappy we have to try to make the most of it. It’s all we can do. A wedding is a good distraction; the dance party was amazing, I chugged a beer for the first time in…a long time…and we got to focus on some happiness with tons of funny people we love and hope to share our lives with forever. That’s so cheesy and a little preachy and I just don’t care.

sharing sad stories

So, I already mentioned hubby and I joined a support group. On the drive up to the first one my heart was beating out of my chest because I was so nervous; not sure why, but that’s me. This is also when I am most talkative (aka talkative at all) and I ruined the NPR story for Hubby, but that’s another tale. Now, after getting that first drive out of my system, and we only have one meeting left, I am super sad it is almost over. I want to keep going! I want to keep sharing stories with these kind strangers. I want them to be my friends. I want to follow their lives and see them when they have happy times come to them. I want them to try to have more babies and have successful pregnancies and then see those fat, screaming babies alive and kicking in their stupid hospital photos! I want to talk to them about something other than miscarriage, stillbirth, and little baby deaths. Instead, we have one more meeting.

At least with email we can keep in touch and I can, at the risk of being skeevy, pry into their lives once in a while. And at least we are having a potluck dinner.

an ode to wine

One good thing that has come from not being pregnant anymore: drinking. Man, did I miss wine. I’m not against the occasional beer or gin and tonic mind you, but wine is a soother of my soul. Especially when said wine is furnished by my good friend Ms Wine Broker who knows wine so well, and me so well, that she can make a life-long match. And also when it is used as an anti-depressant, naturally. For all of you Black Widow fans, I’m jumping on your bandwagon.

Going without wine for eight and a half months was torturous. Obviously it was worth it, but really, I didn’t even know how much I missed it—that’s how good it is. Plus, it was awesome that I got an immediate wine-buzz after my first sip (two months later I’ve got my regular immunity back, but the first couple weeks I was totally wine-drunk on a half-glass, how economical!). If I could give something back to wine, I would. And it would be indescribably awesome. Like the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World. Thank you, wine, for helping me find the good in my sad situation. You are delicious.

Facing the world

Well, life goes on whether you want it to or not. I mean, duh, I always knew that, but it’s certainly hit me harder recently. Three weeks after losing Wyatt I had to go to a wedding. And be a bridesmaid in it. If you recall, Ed Purveyor of Bridesmaids’ Dresses was THE first person to learn about my pregnancy (aside from Hubby). I had no idea what giant sized-dress to order for a 7.5 months pregnant me; he suggested my bust was going to just about explode (which it eventually did. See: Boob Takeover); I thought I’d be better safe than sorry and just go huge. This dress had a special meaning to me; I was planning to be a plump purple maiden at my good friend’s wedding and I wanted a dress 8 sizes bigger than normal just to be sure I could do the job right. I wanted to be the glowing beauteous bellied babe standing by my bride-friend in all her glory. I wanted an excuse to duck out of the party and sit out the lame dances! For all these reasons, a few weeks in advance I went to the good seamstress’s place, explained my situation (like it wasn’t obvious), and paid an inordinate amount of cash to make this dress look good. So, let me admit that even thinking about going back into the seamstress’s shop to face her and pick up that stupid dress after I lost my baby made me tear up. Or more than tear up, but who’s tracking details.

Brave ol’ Hubby pulled through for me. Since my boobs hadn’t grown (not even a budge!), and since bride-friend picked a pregnant-friendly empire waist, I was able to just about fit perfectly into the dress. It was horrible. It was like I never had anything in there in the first place. Nobody knew my story. Wyatt wasn’t there. I didn’t have an excuse to pig out like I did and I had to dance to Madonna. Oy.

Reading, reading, and more reading

Sometimes, I have this fascination, obsession really, with getting all the information I can. It hits me at obvious times, but also at completely random times. This time, it’s obvious. My son was stillborn; I am getting all the information I can on that. I imagine most people in my shoes would probably do their fair share of research as well, but man, it’s hitting me hard. It’s comforting, really, and I definitely get to do what I want right now. That’s reading, reading, reading.

Just as when I needed to know everything about how to get pregnant in the first place, and then what the heck to do (and even more not to do) when I was pregnant, I want to know what people have to say about stillborn babies. And their sad families and friends. And grief, and recovery, and so on and so on. Since I am sneaky, I have a library card for the county I live in and the county next door. This means I get double the books. While I have found that this isn’t exactly a popular subject, and some of the “suggested readings” are only available if I feel like buying them from some obscure bookstore, the libraries have kept me busy for over a month now. I would say that’s pretty good.

Here is what is not good: the internet. While it allows me to vent, share, and muse to you in anonymity, it also allows for the passage of way too much information. Information that may or may not be true. Someone in my support group said “I should not be allowed on Google when I’m home alone,” and you know what, sometimes I agree. How can I believe half the stuff I see on here, even if I really want to believe something? I can’t. So I get me some books. Lesson to you all: become friends with your library.