Halfway Around the World and I Can't Stop Thinking of You

Whenever something bad happens in my life, my usual instinct is to flee (though other times fight is my reaction). This summer has been filled with vivid and perhaps drastic examples of me trying to run from the pain of my miscarriage after waiting years to become pregnant. 

View from the Nativity Tower of Gaudi's La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Spain

Going up to Kamloops to stay with my parents in law gave me a break from being at home in the usual routine of writing, housework, and seeing where the whole miscarriage scene unfolded. I caught up on sleep that I had lost, started exercising again, basked in my parents in law's love, and felt somewhat stronger when I returned home to Victoria.

Coming back from Kamloops I looked better rested than I had on the way up.

I then turned around almost immediately (four days) and left again for three weeks in Europe with my husband. We had been planning to go to Europe this summer or early fall anyways (depending on the IVF schedule/ pregnancy and waiting for the first trimester to be finished) so we seized the opportunity to do it in July before getting onto the next IVF schedule.

The cat was displeased with the reappearance of suitcases which signaled our imminent departure.

I had long dreamed of showing my husband Amsterdam and Barcelona where I had found so much wonder and joy as a teenager. Returning to the former 18 years later and the latter 20 years later was sure to be interesting. What new things would I notice? Would they be significantly different? The world is shrinking, how would that impact two of my favourite European cities? Would this cruise that we had received basically free of charge after our last disastrous cruise with Costa last year be better? I had never been to a couple of the Spanish Islands and Italian cities that we were stopping at on the cruise or Monaco, what would I learn from these places?

Exploring Amsterdam 18 years older than I was last time.

I was also nervous. What if something wasn't right after the miscarriage? After all, I hadn't been examined during or after it and had not had a D&C (it had just happened naturally). What if I discovered a uterine infection while I was away? Or what if the bleeding suddenly started again and became uncontrollable? If the condition was apparently stable before leaving, but hadn't been examined by a doctor and it reappeared, would it be a pre-existing condition, not covered by our travel insurance (yes, a lot of this anxiety is from my past as a litigation lawyer representing clients who were denied travel insurance coverage and other insurance coverage).

Panorama from our room at the W Barcelona.

The break away from home and all of the new sights and familiar sights were good (see my travel blog: www.tworestlesswanderers.blogspot.ca), but no matter where I went I was often preoccupied and sometimes even brought to tears, thinking about the baby that I had just lost. In the old protestant church, Oude Kerk, in Amsterdam, I lost it and started crying, despite the fact that I was in public, as my husband handed me a candle to light for the baby and one for ourselves.  I was halfway around the world, in someone's dream vacation (certainly mine), and unable to escape from this fresh loss in my life.

I was sombre lighting a candle in Oude Kerk in Amsterdam for our dead baby.

It proves that when you're running from yourself and your own grief, there is nowhere far enough that you can go. There is no escape. You have to feel the hot tears stinging your eyes, the tightness in your throat, the crushing feeling in your heart. You just have to feel. It's painful, but there is no escape.

The view from the W Barcelona's infinity pool.

Beauty around me, I scrambled to make sense of this world. I had expected to be taking this trip pregnant, happy in the almost certainty that I would finally have a child and now all I had was the bloated body of someone who had freshly lost a pregnancy. I couldn't help but ruminate. How could I not be able to get pregnant for years and then finally get pregnant on the eve of having IVF done and then lose the baby? Why is it that people who don't want to get pregnant get pregnant and actually carry the baby to term, but I couldn't? I know that life isn't fair and I've struggled with this concept my whole life (especially as a lawyer, sharing the pain of injustice with my clients, don't even get me started on insurance companies). My Myers-Briggs Personality Type, INFJ, makes me a very strong believer in justice, so really I'm just fighting myself. I guess I'll just never feel comfortable with how this world really is. But if you give up the fight, what is there left in life?

One of my favourite paintings from the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, Jan Steen's "The Dancing Lesson." Yes, I too loved to make cats dance as a child and I still do (much to Lamont's delight).

It being summer vacation, there were children everywhere. Harried parents, tired from travelling, and probably from their children's antics, didn't look grateful enough to be parents to my child hungry eyes. I know that children are annoying and try your patience and I get that not every day is a great day, but I've been waiting so long for a child, I hope that I'll appreciate every day if I ever become a parent. And it's hard not to doubt that I will ever be a parent, especially after this fresh loss in my life.

The remains of a dead teenager from Pompeii. I found the remains of the dead child too macabre to even photograph.

My husband I celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary on our last full day in Europe. We have grown more in love with each other every year (we've been together 10 years this New Years Eve), but a giant hole has been left in our lives, as we have been unable to have a child or two to grow our family and enhance our lives. We talked about children's names the night we met, having children was an important goal for both of us, and we've still be unable to name a child, hold a child, or move on to a new stage of our lives.

In the Grand Central Hotel Barcelona's rooftop infinity pool on our eighth wedding anniversary.

On the other hand, we've had much more of a chance to be adults without children than most people ever have (except those who never have any children). We've been able to both obtain advanced degrees, try out various and diverse careers, have more leisure time and hobbies, travel the world, and get to know ourselves to an almost unnerving degree. We've skipped across various islands of French Polynesia, wandered north to south through Japan, and strolled through many countries in Europe together (this year and last year) and Morocco (last year). Dreams like returning to Amsterdam and Barcelona, seeing a giant EDM concert with David Guetta in Ibiza, exploring the ruins at Pompeii, or gazing off into the sea in Monaco where Grace Kelly might have stood, might not have ever been possible if we had had children earlier.

Taking in the famous Monaco view.

In Ibiza for David Guetta's "Big" EDM event.

I thought that returning from Europe, my resolve to proceed with IVF would be stronger than when I left, but I'm finding the contrary. Perhaps I'm just exhausted. Also, my period which was supposed to show up a few days ago (so I could inform the Victoria Fertility Centre what my Day 1 is so that they can book me in for an IVF cycle starting with my next cycle) has not shown up. Perhaps my body is still confused after the miscarriage, or by the 9 hour time change, or by traveling, or there is that other remote possibility that I can't risk hoping for anymore (even if I were to be pregnant, which is highly unlikely, what if I miscarry again? I don't think I would survive that mentally).

Lamont has the right idea. Take it easy.

So, now I wait to see where I am mentally and emotionally with regard to when to start IVF and physically for my period which is necessary for me to even tell the clinic when I would be ready to start IVF. Sitting with the unknown is terrifying and highly uncomfortable, but at least I am home with my cat now. Lamont's the best life coach I've ever met.

My guru gazes off into the distance, fake crow disciple awaits the latest life lesson.