Don’t.

 

Things I Don’t Want You To Say To Me When You Found Out I’m Having (Another) Miscarriage:

• It’s for the best. Something was wrong, this was your body’s way of telling you.
• It will happen when it’s meant to happen.
• It’s a blessing in disguise.
• You’ll get over it.
• It wasn’t really a baby yet, anyway.
• At least you weren’t further along, that’s a good thing.
• Are you sure you were really pregnant?
• Just be thankful for what you already have.
• Some people have it worse than you, they can’t even get pregnant.

Please, please don’t expect me to just “get over it.” Don’t expect me to ever want to try again, no matter how much you try to convince me that “God has a plan.” Don’t ask me why I’m crying, don’t ask me why I’m in a bad mood. Don’t tell me to keep my head up, don’t tell me that everything will be ok.

Just don’t.

The End.

When the nurse called me yesterday to tell me that my hcg had dropped to 25, I was prepared. I knew there wasn’t any hope left, not now.

She spoke in a comforting voice, asked if there was anything she could do for me. No, nothing, thank you.

Then she told me that if, while bleeding, I “passed” anything, I should be sure to save it and bring it in to my lab appointment on Friday so they could do genetic testing and try to determine what caused the miscarriage.

Um, no thank you. I am not up for sifting through a pool of blood for the remains of my would-have-been son or daughter.

Besides, it doesn’t matter why it happened.

It’s not going to happen again. It can’t happen again, because we’re not trying again.

I prayed for this baby. I prayed, so, so hard and I had so many other people praying with me. And still, STILL, I miscarried.

They say God has a plan for everyone. I personally think that’s a crock of shit, but if it’s true, then God’s plan for me does not include another baby.

Thanks, God, for choosing such a cruel fucking way to show me.

I am so incredibly grateful for my beautiful daughter. It breaks my heart that I won’t be able to give her a sibling.

But this is it. I can’t go through this again. I won’t.

Hanging on.

When I called the nurse line yesterday for my beta results, I was hopeful. I was shaking, but I was hopeful. Of course, I had to leave a message and wait for a call back, but it only took them 15 minutes to tell me what I really…didn’t want to hear.

34.

3  – freaking -4.

Not the pretty triple-digit number I was hoping for.  Not even close.

My reply: Wow. Well that’s not good.

Sue, my favorite nurse: Well, it’s low. But you could have your dates wrong, and remember that it’s still early.

Gee. Thanks. Super.

I cried. I’m not going to lie. But then I talked to my mom, and I did some Googling, and I decided to just take a deep breath and try, try, TRY to relax. (Believe me, this is WAY easier said than done.)

The “average” hcg level at 14DPO (which is when my first blood draw was) is 48. The “typical” range is 17 – 119. 34 fits nicely into that range.

I haven’t had any more spotting, no more bleeding, and last night I was so nauseous I really just wanted to cry.  And I was so, so happy about it.

I go in today for another blood draw. I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait until 9 am tomorrow morning, so I’m going to request (read: beg) that I get my results this afternoon. Based on my history, and on the stress this is causing me, I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

I’m still praying. I’m not giving up on this little one.

Playing the waiting game.

Still no more bleeding. No more spotting. No more cramps.

Had my blood drawn yesterday for my beta HCG. Will get the results this morning. Terrified.

The nurse told me that based on the amount of red bleeding I had (only about a quarter sized) and the fact that it hasn’t happened again (and it’s been over 48 hours now!) that it’s probably perfectly normal. She said, “You need to remember that in early pregnancy, spotting is common. It’s not always the sign of bad things to come.” She told me to hang in there, relax, and if it happens again, to call right away.

So far so good. Now, I wait until 9:00. Two hours to go.

Praying.

Since last night, I haven’t had any bleeding. Nothing overnight, nothing all day.

I tested again this morning and the line was still light, it hadn’t gotten any darker. It took a full 3 – 4 minutes for it to show up completely, so I wasn’t feeling very confident.

I decided to take another test tonight. Because I am crazy.

The line showed up within 30 seconds. And it’s dark. Darker, anyway, and thicker.

Top test is from this morning. Bottom from half an hour ago.

Oh please please please let this be a good sign.

Dr. at 9:45 tomorrow. Praying.

Again.

I’m bleeding.

I’m thinking maybe baby number 2 just isn’t meant to be.

I just.

I don’t have words. Only tears.

Get darker. Please?

You didn’t really think I’d stop peeing on sticks, did you?

Today, the line is darker. Yesterday morning when I tested, I pretty much thought I was crazy seeing a line. Today, I know for a fact that it’s there. Unfortunately the stupid picture doesn’t do it justice, but I’ll post anyway.

It’s still faint. I HATE FAINT. Faint is bad. It scares me.

And also, the CBE digital said Not Pregnant. What a bitch.

I have no idea. I guess I just have to keep waiting. Did I mention that I hate waiting.

Oh. And praying. I’ll be praying.

Could it be?

A BFP?

I don’t know.

I know there’s a line there. But I’m so freaking nervous.

Still waiting.

So, here I am again, 8DPO. I’ve been taking progesterone supplements since 2 or 3DPO, depending on when I actually ovulated. I don’t take my temp every day, so I have to rely on these damn ovulation predictor things, and they are just frusrating.

The progesterone sucks. I hate it. I won’t hate it if it helps me stay pregnant, but right now? Hate. I’m moody. I could cry over the stupidest little things. And jesus fucking christ, I am NAUSEOUS. It’s ridiculous. It started Sunday night and it’s continued on into today. I have to munch on something constantly or I feel like I might lose my breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. I’m blaming it on the progesterone because I don’t think it’s possible to have morning sickness before I even get a positive pregnancy test.

Which I could have soon. Who knows. This whole thing is just a bunch of wait, wait, wait. I’m tired of waiting!

And the worst part is, if I DO get a positive test, I’ll be so terrified of losing it again that I won’t even be able to enjoy it.

To be continued…

Wait. Worry.

2DPO today.

Tonight I’ll start taking the progesterone and hope that it does its job and makes a nice little home for our future little one.  I’m nervous about side effects, because I know they can mimic early pregnancy “symptoms”, but at this point, I’m will to do whatever it takes to prevent another loss.

The thing is, as I look at the calendar and count down the days until I can pee on yet another stick, I’m overcome by this feeling of terror. Thing is, as much as I want another baby, I am terrified to see those two pink lines. I know that I’ll spend every day wondering if everything is going ok, if I’m going to be ok, if the baby is going to be ok. I know that if I get that positive test, I’ll be torn between being ecstatic that Maddie is going to have a little brother or sister and being terrified that something is going to happen again and I won’t be pregnant anymore.

So now, I guess I just have to wait. And worry. And hope.