First of all.. I'm still spotting, for what that's worth.
This morning, Nurse calls me. She tells me my beta from 13dpo came back at 30, her voice all excited, and she tells me I am pregnant.
Yeah, you actually expect me to get on the happy train with you nurse? Um, no. Don't know if you actually read my chart, but see I've been here twice before- and neither time did I make it to the desired destination.
I shall refrain from getting on the happy train, mmmkay? If I have a good doubling beta, and make it past 6 weeks this time, if we see a heartbeat... maybe I will join you. But, don't hold your breath on that one.
I go in for a repeat beta on Friday. Should get the results by that evening.
I better not miscarry on Thanksgiving. That's the smallest favor I'm asking from the cosmos. If I stay "pregnant" I will be 5 weeks on Thanksgiving... 5 weeks seems to be about the time that things like going wrong for me. So, here's to hoping that if I miscarry it will be soon, or sometime after Thanksgiving and before Christmas. The holiday's are hard enough on their own, thank you very much.
I know I sound horribly pessimistic... but I've had two miscarriages out of two pregnancies (which, if you do the math, equals no babies). Pregnancy to me isn't what it is for so many other women. I have no faith in pregnancy, it has failed me. I have no faith in my body, it has failed me. I have no faith in the whole reproductive process, it has failed me. I know many women get pregnant, and things work out just as they should. But I have not been one of them. The most I can ask, is that if things don't work out, that they at least do so in a manner that creates the least damage. No matter what, it will cause damage... but I'm looking at the calendar and hoping the blow won't be as traumatic as it could be. Miscarrying this week, would be much less painful (both emotionally and physically) than it would be if I miscarried on Thanksgiving.
If it works out... well, that's wonderful. But if it doesn't... I don't want to have every Thanksgiving get together with our families to be a constant reminder of the little life I lost, and the turn our life never got to take, that everyone else's lives did.
I'm just saying.
I would love for it to work out- I would. But I can't let myself think of that. I've been there. I've dreamed those dreams. But the hard facts are right there in front of us- pregnancy does not always equal a baby.
Unless you've experienced the pain of loss, it's hard to imagine just how very draining it truly is. All the happiness, all the shiny glow of pregnancy, all the colors in the world- they sorta fade away. You fight, you fight so hard, to get them back- and maybe if you get pregnant and stay pregnant, maybe each day it gets a little brighter, maybe the glow grows back... but I don't know, I've never been there. For me, after the second miscarriage, the world just grew darker, every last shred of faith in pregnancy died.
Maybe it works for other people... but the fact of the matter is, for me, I have lost two babies. There are two lives I will never get to meet. I went through immense pain emotionally, and excruciating pain physically. I lost parts of myself that I will never, ever, get back. Parts of me died. Parts of me broke, and can't be repaired. Relationships were lost, and others strengthened. My life changed. I changed.
So, I know I sound like a pessimist- and who knows, maybe I am- but I want you to know where I'm coming from.
In real life, almost everyone takes miscarriages for granted, as if they are just a thing that happened... but they aren't. It changes a person, losing your baby. People assume you are still the same person after loss- and you aren't. You aren't.
This is who I am now. If I had a choice, I would still be naive like those women who get pregnant easily and carry to term with no issues... but I'm not, and there's no use dreaming I am, or pretending I am. This is who I am now. This is my life, as I know it.