Sunday, March 29, 2015

The loss

There's no good title to this post.  This is the loss post.

At 7 weeks we went in for our third ultrasound.  This was the ultrasound to see a heartbeat.  We knew it was important.  

But there was no heartbeat.

There was a sac still, but no sign of life.  No little heart. 

I can not put that amount of devastation into words.  I won't try.  So we drive home, and all I can think about is calling the family.  I want it over with as soon as possible.  I don't want anyone to be hopeful anymore. So we call everyone, and we say that word: "miscarriage".

That word is finite and succinct, neat and tidy - it doesn't convey what it needs to.  Here's what has to happen next:  I have to pretend I am pregnant for a full week.  I have to carry around my sad little sac; I can't drink alcohol and I can't eat any foods I am not supposed to.  I have to figure out a way to work, to get through each block of 24 hours, to get to sleep.  I have to get to the next ultrasound to confirm what we already know.  Miscarriage sounds so final.  So complete.  But it's not.  This is just the beginning of a horrid process.  

But I make it, because what choice do I have?  And I make it yet another 2 days to the D&E.

The last thing I remember is being strapped down to a table and telling the nurses that I couldn't believe that something so happy had led me here.  

And then at least the physical part of this whole mess is over.  Or at least I think it is.  

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