Thursday, June 2, 2011

Another Dedication, To You Dear Chon

Please be advised that the following post will contain memories and description of miscarriage and thoughts of suicide and feelings of depression. This post is brutally honest and has no intention of offence but to allow someone dear to me to know that I understand and acknowledge what she is going through.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I know it was very hard for Tee to write her post. She told me she couldn't, but I am proud of her that she did. If there was going to be anyone who acknowledged Chon's miscarriage first in a post it would be her. Tee your heart is so strong and honest considering you have your own battle to win against infertility and miscarriage. Your friendship is immeasurable. I'm glad that if ever life throws something horrible to me, you will be there with your everlasting support and love.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dear Chon,

I woke up to the news via a sms that you were bleeding. My heart sank yet I held on to hope. Hope that it was just an implantation bleed and the little bean burrowing in to your uterus, making itself comfortable. I know you laughed when I sms you the term "fanny fart" as an explanation of pressure being released. I thought my stupid humour would at least make you smile, just for a moment, amongst the anxiety and sadness you were feeling.

A day later it was all over. Any inkling I had of hope was destroyed by reading your post. Your blood levels were not reflective of a pregnancy, the ultrasound did not detect a fetus. I was shattered and knew exactly how you were feeling. I felt useless sitting in Sydney reading your news, all I wanted to do was run, run as fast as I could to Melbourne and hug you. Emails and sms just doesn't justify the connection, but it was all I had to show my support and understanding.

I know that feeling. I know the minute it was confirmed that you were pregnant, all you wanted to do was hide and maybe camp out in a cave for the next 9 months until that kid was born. After all these years of trying, the IVF treatments and transfers and the endless operations just didn't qualify you as a happy fertile who jumped with glee and rang the world of your news. A stolen hug and kiss with your husband - he feels the same as you - the excitement of the extended family. In my case, my mother cranked up the Greek music and bellydanced her heart out. You were happy to see their happiness but deep down in your soul you were not ready to celebrate. No not like any other fertile woman. Infertility robbed you of that.

I know that feeling. The blood, some cramps. Those pregnancy symptoms diminished. Women's intuition - you just knew. But like a robot, you went to get the bloods and the scan, craving for hope. Praying to God that there was just a glitch in the system. You were prepared to deal with a difficult pregnancy, just as long as there were signs of life.

At 6 weeks 1 day, my bleeds started and faded and started again. At the hospital my hcg levels had wavered. There was no increase but the nurse had optimism. The radiologist didn't, the heartbeat was only 72  - anything over 100 was considered viable. At 6 weeks 6 days I saw it, it looked like a little kidney. Fell out of me into my hand. Covered in blood. I wrapped it with a tissue and buried it with my dog. They could at least play in heaven together. 6 weeks, 6 days, 6 years of IF, Friday the 13th. The devil entered my life.

I know that feeling. Carrying a fetus, my baby - it was dieing. I knew it was dieing, its heartbeat decreasing as I watched TV. I knew what was going on inside me. Waiting for something to fucking happen.

After all these years of infertility to finally kick the goal and then the trophy be taken away from you. It utterly sucks. Suicide was my first thought. Crawling into a dark hole and just withering into nothing. Death seemed so much more simpler than telling my husband and my parents that it was all over. But it doesn't end in just tears does it?

I know that feeling. Dark thoughts and paranoia - I will never be a mother now. Miscarriage added to my Resume of Failure. Walking around like a zombie - household chores tick, work tick, cook dinner tick, go shopping tick - see a baby in a pram - cry tick. And lets do that all over again....Waiting for my period to return. Waiting for another cycle to begin. Waiting - what do I do now?

And then I found them - Ree, Kelly and Felicity. I've never acknowledged them till now. Other women who survived miscarriage. The website we both know about - the Miscarriage Support Board. They picked me up on fucked up days, they made me laugh. Most of all they knew and they were there. It was because of their support and encouragement that I survived too.

One of them asked me once - Do you still want to be a mother? Yes I replied.

"Then get your skates on. You can grieve for your little one. Never to be forgotten. You were pregnant, but now you are a mother to an angel and one day you will be a mother to a live and healthy baby. There is still hope."

You know how my story ends. I know we are not the same and my experience is not yours. But my heart aches for you, we are sisters now more so than ever.

Your journey does not end here.

Please grieve, be sad, hate the world. Let those tears flow. Don't you dare feel guilty though - you are not to blame. Connect with the support that is surrounding you and loving you. Find other survivors and most importantly, if it gets too tough get counselling. I did and it did help me acknowledge my experience and focus on my next steps towards motherhood.

I really care for you mate. I know we haven't met in real life but we will one day. And that day will be glorious, because you are my friend.

Love Athena.

"My little one
You have left us too soon
Though my body can no longer hold you
I hold you forever in my heart
As precious and beautiful as this flower caught in time
A mother's love does not forget"
~ Author Unknown


  1. Your letter to Chon made me cry.

    I can't relate to miscarriage because I have never experienced it. I can't say 'I know what you are going through', because I don't. I have lost my mum though, so I do know what it feels like to grieve. To feel like your heart is breaking and nothing will ever make it better. I wanted to write a post to you on my blog too Chon, but the honest truth is that I DON'T know what you are going through, and therefore I feel useless and helpless and like nothing I say can make you feel better. I also know that where I am at in my own journey will be extremely diffcult for you to cope with in the coming weeks. That I do understand.

    So all I can say is that I love you. That I am here for you. That I am always thinking of you. That my heart breaks for you. And that I hope with time you will begin to heal and feel strong enough to try again. xox

  2. Oh my God Athena, that's so sad but so beautiful. Am just composing myself after bawling my eyes out. We helped each other in those dark days, and like you, I will never forget that. You, Kelly and Ann-Maree were and are amazing people (the absolute standouts) and if any good came out of such sadness, it was that we got to know each other and I hope our baby angels are playing together (nicely). We WILL all meet up one day because there had to be a reason we were thrown together. Love you very much my dear friend. Felicity xoxoxoxoxox

  3. I really am speechless (and you know how infrequently that occurs... ha!).

    Everytime I hear about another loss, my heart sinks. I don't understand how, where, why. I see some popping out kids like it's an Olympic sport they've been training since they were a fanny fart. Yet for people like you, people like me, people that we've met through IF and loss and people like your friend, you wonder how anyone gets pregnant and keeps babies at all.

    Although some people from the board have gotten pregnant and vanished into think air you have never forgotten me, still childless 3 years on. You have never forgotten where you have come from and you've always provided support when it's needed.

    And that, my dear friend, means the world to me. It makes me feel as though I'm not being left behind and it makes the journey somewhat better knowing I have that friend in my corner.


  4. Ohhhhh yes. Please allow me to link back to this post on my blog? I hear this a lot, "You said exactly what I was thinking." And I understand the sentiment, but it wasn't until RIGHT NOW, when I read this post, and started to type those same words to you---on the other side of the world---that I knew what those words truly mean.

    Thank you for your blog, and thank you for baring it all and writing from the heart.


  5. This is such a heart-wrenchingly beautiful post. Thank you for sharing your darkest moments with us ... and for letting others know that they are not alone. My heart goes out to Chon.

  6. You are all such strong, beautiful women. Like I told Tee yesterday...I am proud to call you all "friend." Each of you give me stregnth to keep fighting this journey. Thanks for posting this beautiful letter, Athena.

  7. Such a poignant post.
    Made me cry.
    Cry because I can relate.
    Cry because I remember.

    This is both beautiful and sad.


  8. I fucking hate blogger and it's incredibly rude I can't comment. MOFO.

    This was beautiful, it captures how I feel. The emptiness and the confusion. Thank you for openly acknowledging my pain. Love you long time.

  9. Such a beautiful letter... my heart goes out to Chon. This is such a hard time... I can remember the pain being so raw and unbearable. Love to you both always xoxo

  10. Wow, you have done it again Athena. Its brutally honest and just rings to many bells for me. Thank you for your support Athena.. Big hugs Chon..xoxo


Grace was in all her steps, Heaven in her Eye, In every gesture dignity and love" ~ John Milton. Thank you for your comments.