Day 39

So, hi y'all.

I have to tell you a story and it's not a happy one.  I apologize for that, but you know the drill.  I write so I can heal and move on.  It's just a lot of words, please read them.

Here goes....

I wrote this post late on a Sunday night.  I put into words what I'd been feeling for a few weeks.

What I didn't mention that I'd also been feeling for a few weeks was sore boobs.  Out of the blue one day, Sofia latched on and I nearly jumped out of my chair because it hurt so bad.  I thought she'd latched without paying attention and didn't get on there right.  But each time she nursed, it kept on hurting.  I had a suspicion, but I told myself that she'd 'forgotten' how to latch and maybe our nursing relationship was coming to a close.

My cycles have been all over the place, and I mentioned that to my doctor when I went to see her.  I was on the 35th day of my cycle, to be exact.  But I didn't raise an eyebrow because I'd been ranging from 27 to 35 days.  I was sure that the very next day I'd start my period.

Except I didn't.

On the 39th day of my cycle, I got into the car accident.  I was shaken up, scared and relieved that I was alone and unhurt.  I came home and my mom urged me to just lay down and take it easy.  I came back to the bedroom and before I laid down, I went ahead and took a test.  Because 39 days *was* kind of long, even for me.  Like any good neurotic person who has ever been pregnancy obsessed, I have pregnancy tests laying around and this one was digital.  I peed, and two seconds later...

I never get used to seeing that.

It's still just as shocking as the very first time.

Immediately, I burst into tears.  I flopped on the bed, put a pillow over my face, and bawled my face off.  My mom heard me and came running. "What's wrong?!  Is it the accident?  Do we need to go to the emergency room?  Are you in pain?  Desiree!  Talk to me!"  I could barely get the words out, but when I did I was like "It's wooorse!  I'm pre-e-e-gnant!"  But then Sofia came in the room and started crying when she saw me crying, so I dried my tears lightning fast. I was still crying but it was under control.

"I'm not ready.  I'm not ready!"

Naturally, my mom was ecstatic and was talking about how this is a good thing and it's going to be okay.  Drew was the same way when I told him.  Poor guy.  First, his wife gets into a car accident.  Then, a few hours later, she's pregnant.  It was a big day for him too.

I was an absolute madwoman getting on the phone to the doctor, demanding my Heparin RIGHT NOW.  Can you believe this woman wanted to wait a week?!  Let's just see what happens???  Ma'am?  In my world, wait a week with no Heparin means miscarriage.  Let's NOT do that, mmkay?  And actually, I'm in my car on my way over there right now to pick up my prescription so why don't you just GET TA WRITIN.  

I got my Heparin and did my first shot roughly four hours after I got the positive test.

You guys!  You would be amazed at me.  I can do my shots now in seconds.  I'm practically a pro!  No more freaking out -  I just do them and get on with things.  Who would've ever thought I'd be able to do that?

I did my shots, I had my pills, and I set about the task of wrapping my brain around being pregnant so quickly and what life would look like with two kids.  We started looking at double strollers and we talked about moving Sofia to a big girl bed.  This was about to be my life.

And then my boobs stopped hurting.

It was no longer painful to nurse and since that had really been my only symptom, when it was gone I naturally freaked out.  Of course I'd had a miscarriage and since I wasn't bleeding, of course that meant I'd have to have the surgery to get it out.  Except I'm not in Dallas with my beloved doctor; this is a new place with strange doctors who want me to wait a week.  Psh.

I called the doctor, telling her I was pretty sure I'd had a miscarriage, because for me, a loss of symptoms doesn't mean I'm lucky.  It means something's wrong.  I could hear the condescension in their tone when I told them I wasn't bleeding.  I could practically hear them writing 'crazy high maintenance pregnant chick' in my chart.  There is really something to be said for having an established relationship with your doctor.

These guys wanted me to get a blood test.  So this past Tuesday, I went to have my blood drawn.  Bless her heart, when Sofia saw the lady with the gloves she burst into tears.  She was scared and didn't know what was going on, so I had to be super calm and happy with her.  Therefore, they did my blood draw like a regular person!  No sweating or freaking out and it was done in less than a minute.  

Later that day, they told me my levels were 4503, which is a good number for early pregnancy.  However, when I repeated the blood draw on Thursday, it had only risen to a little over 5000, when they were looking for it to double.  Add that to a loss of symptoms and that's no bueno.

Additionally, I got an ultrasound on Thursday, and all they could make out was a yolk sac.  They couldn't really see if there was anything inside, although I knew.  

I grew a house, but nobody ever moved in.

They tried to tell me it might just be too early, that I might be wrong with my dates and I'm not as far along as I think I am, but I know.  I know my body; this is the fifth time I've been pregnant for god's sake.  I Know.

Except I might be wrong.  My cycles *have* been off.  I might be wrong with my dates.  I could be wrong.

The doctor would like me to wait at least a full week before repeating the ultrasound, just to be completely totally sure that this pregnancy isn't viable.  However, I don't think I can wait a week.  I have an appointment for Tuesday afternoon and I think I'm just going to keep it.  It will have been five days from the last ultrasound and if things look exactly the same, I think that's a good indicator.

Plus, since I'm not 100% sure, I'm going to keep doing my shots.  If there's a 1% chance that this is viable and I stop the shots, I could never be ok with myself.  BUT, I don't want to keep doing the shots any longer than I have to, so I'm keeping my appointment.

And that's where I am.

I'm sad.  I thought I was done with miscarriages.  I thought we fixed the problem.

I'm angry.  I think it's really fucked up that I was cool with having one kid, and then I have to have this change of heart, and then I have a miscarriage.  I wanted to have one kid because I *wanted* it that way, not because I *can't* have any more.

I'm guilty.  Even though I know it's not the case, I can't help but wonder if I had this miscarriage because I wasn't excited enough, I wasn't happy enough.  I know it doesn't work that way, but I have the feelings nonetheless.

I haven't cried because I have to be there for Sofia.  But I know I have to process this so I can heal so I can really be there for Sofia.  I can't be distracted, I can't be anything but 100% her mom, because she needs me.

So I write.  I write so I can heal.

Because I'm pretty sure I've had another miscarriage.