Friday, October 19, 2012

Standing still, Day 4

I've been feeling very numb the last few days. It's not like I don't know what is going on. Diagnostically I know what happened. I know what the next steps are and that none of it is good. But it has all been processed from a distance. No tears. Just going through the motions. Because I knew once those floodgates opened, there was no going back. I just wanted to delay it for a bit. To not feel like such a disaster for once.

But standing in the shower yesterday morning, I felt it creep in. I curled up on the shower floor and wept. The water didn't wash away my tears, nor did it drowned out my sorrow.

I have my husband. I have my close friends. I have my mom, my family. Dr. D and my nurses. My therapist. The women in my Resolve group. I have you guys. I've shared my story with so many people. I've talked about my feeling ad nauseum. I've written about them at length. I think that I somehow rationalized that if I gave lots of different people tiny pieces of my pain, that it would lessen my own. I was trying to unburden myself. I attempted to spread it out. To thin it.

But I've finally realized that my grief and loss are mine alone. I can't deposit these feelings and then run from them. They shadow me wherever I go. And they are as thick as molasses.

Physically I can do this. I know what I have to do and what the process is. I will go through surgery. Listen to the test results. Sit in Dr. D's office and figure out our next move. I will continue to wait. I will force my body to go through the motions, and it will obey. But emotionally I don't know what the process is anymore. I keep following the same track and when I find myself in the place I started, I don't know what else to do except continue back around. I'm going in circles and it's not working. I can't keep doing this, it's eating me alive. How do you stop the loop? For the life of me I can't figure it out.

I couldn't bare the thought of waiting until Wednesday for my next u/s. And then even longer for the actual D&C. I broke down and called Dr. D yesterday. I was ready to beg and plead to be seen earlier but I didn't have to. She told me to come in this afternoon and that we could schedule the D&C for as early as possible next week. Which is good because I started spotting this morning. I need this horror show to end.


  1. Thinking of you and sending big hugs as you face these next few terrible days, and all that follows. I'm so, so sorry you have to go through this.

  2. I'm glad that you moved it up. I'm glad you having a D&C and not having to do this at home. My heart breaks for you a thousand times. I wish with all my heart that I could take this pain away and make you feel better. Many many hugs!!

  3. I'm so sorry you're going through this. Words just aren't enough. (((hugs)))

  4. I wish I knew the magic words to say to you that would take away all your hurt and pain. But please know I'm thinking of you and praying for answers. *hugs*