Today I went in and “forced” an ultrasound. They just wanted to check my levels, but I KNEW I just KNEW that things had gone south. My body was battling two conflicting issues–morning sickness and the ever-telling pull of my uterus wanting to shed a nice built up lining. I knew this as of Saturday…and then I just prayedprayedprayed that the period-cramps and other happenings held out til Mother’s Day was over. It is by far, for obvious reasons, my favoritest holiday in the whole world. Favoritest. Has surpassed my old favest, the birthday, and is now in close running with Christmas–not Christmas for me, Christmas for the little ones. Anyway. My prayers were answered until yesterday evening, miraculously. There was no telltale signs of Things Gone Wrong until about 5 pm last night.
This morning I got a sitter for the boys, and got to the office with enough time to play some IPad solitaire to numb my mind. When I went in for the blood with my favorite nurse, I told her I needed an ultrasound. She is the BEST I tell you, the BEST. After she said “Shit, what happened, I was out Friday!” and I told her nothing that the office knew of–just that I knew. She put me in a room right away, and the other doctor (whom I now favor to mine–why, you ask? Because she has something called COMPASSION. and BEDSIDE MANNER. And…WORDS.) I saw the sac, saw it was still small, and was so damn glad to know I had been right, and this wasn’t going to give me some awesome, surprise, meant-to-be baby. She was great. And I was great, let me tell you. No real breaking down, no sobbing mess, just asking all the right questions about What Happens When You MIscarry (I’ve only had that one with the twin pregnancy–and it was a missed one–and they did a d&c for that whatwith all the copious tissue….). She told me we might try to give it a week, but schedule a surgery for early next week, so I am not waitingwaitingwaiting for this to happen, and can move on. I guess there is a chance once I tear off the 4 estrogen patches and stop injecting 1.5 cc of progesterone in my ass, it happens naturally.
I definitely cried on the way home. T is away on business and was therefore unreachable after I left (I swear, he’s not a douche–he was on an airplane. So seriously unreachable). I called my SIL/best friend/otherhalf and she cried with me. But I am going to be okay from this, I just know it. I guess it was always seeming to good to be true–or even, too bad to be true. Sometimes I wish I never saw those damn TWO PINK LINES…because two pink lines infer a baby, but sadly, not this time. We have some amazing things around the corner for our family of four–and I am trying to focus on the belief that perchance, somewhere down the road, I will understand why I was only given two children. We do of course still have some frozen enbryos with this current clinic (of mediocre-to-poor quality), so the expectation will be low. It was our plan to be “done” by my 35th birthday which is right around the corner at the end of June–and that is out of the question now. I know how long it takes for numbers to fall after a loss. I also know there are embryos out there somewhere, waiting to be “adopted”–and since we likely won’t risk crazy amounts of cash for another cycle with my sucktastic eggs, I know T would be willing to adopt some frozen embryos down the line if we decide to do so. Part of me is like, “I’m ONLY going to be 35…” and the other part is like, “Shit, I am going to be 35.”
I am just going to continue to pray for peace, pray for an “easy miscarriage” (whatever the hell that means–because that sure sounds like an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one), and I am going to be so damn grateful for the two miracles I was somehow blessed with. I know I have so many amazing and wonderful gifts in my life–I know that it is now the time to focus on that, and move forward. Thanks for your support—kind words, reassurances, understanding, and just…reading.