Yesterday was hard. I knew the upcoming holidays were going to be much more difficult to get through than usual but I wasn’t expecting the gloom that settled over me whenever my mind was not actively engaged in something. It probably didn’t help that the night before Thanksgiving J and I had a huge fight that I still wasn’t over. It didn’t help that I felt nauseous every time I tried to eat, resulting in a pretty lame Thanksgiving meal for me. But most of all it didn’t help that the bleeding truly began.
I’ve been expecting it for days. The spotting has been increasing in intensity and times where it has been bright red. I knew there was no chance of this working out at this point. My last beta number came in at 286. Which was a doubling time of 52 hours. My doctor tried to play it off saying there is still a possibility of this working out. But he was not taking into consideration the amount of spotting I’ve been having. Now there is no doubt. I’m wearing a pad and passing tissue. This is over now I just have to wait for it to all go down.
I’m supposed to go in for a final beta and an ultrasound next Wednesday as I would be 6 weeks. I think I’m going to call Monday and try to cancel the ultrasound though. Really there is no point. Plus I have PTSD regarding that ultrasound room and I don’t need another reason for that to continue. I also really want to stop taking my Lovenox injections. I’ve continued because I felt it was the responsible thing to do but now I just feel like I’m sticking needles in myself for no reason. Thoughts? I’m worried if I stop I’ll feel guilty until we confirm my levels are decreasing.
At least now I know we are done for this year. Possibly done for good. It seem very obvious to me that none of this has been “bad luck”. Something is very wrong with my body. Based on how early I’m losing them I think there is something wrong with implanting. But there isn’t much more we can do to help that. And I don’t know if I can do this again. One thing this pregnancy has really taught me is that I’m not healed. Because the pregnancy that I am mourning right now is not the current one. It’s MBs. He was my fighter, the one who somehow got past the implanting stage and made it. Yet he still died. And the fact that I don’t know why he died hurts so much. Yesterday all I could think about was wishing that I still was pregnant with him so that he could be the thing I was grateful for. I’m still too damaged from his loss to embrace a new pregnancy.
Of course my doctor will bench me for a month, then he will encourage me to try again. Of this I am sure. But I’m benching myself. I’m not sure if it is a permanent bench or not at this point. I just know right now I can’t do it. I used to hesitate about adopting because I wanted to be pregnant. I wanted the whole experience. Now pregnancy no longer holds wonder and joy for me. It will be nothing but terror and anxiety. And I am not sure that I want it anymore.
Sorry for the bummer post on the weekend that it supposed to be all about gratitude. All I can do is hope that next year my story is a happier one, even though I have no idea what the hell is going to happen.