I'm not pregnant anymore. I guess, technically, I wasn't before. The baby died probably about a week and a half ago, so I hadn't had a living, healthy pregnancy since, I don't know, last Monday? Or Tuesday? But now, I'm really, truly not pregnant, with the empty, scraped-clean uterus to prove it.
The D&C was not fun, but the recovery has been better than I expected. They drew blood and gave me an IV to administer the sedative, and I panicked like I always do, but I got through it. And afterward I puked three times from the anesthesia (again, as expected, I'm super sensitive to it) and lay there moaning with the worst cramps of my life. But eventually the ty.lenol kicked in and I felt a little better and was able to go home.
We paid extra out-of-pocket for the "VIP" treatment, which meant a comfortable, private room with a bed in which to wait for and recover from the procedure and extra attention from the nurses. It was expensive, but worth it to be able to have time and privacy to recover without feeling like I was a cow in a cattle stall. We joked that this was my Christmas present.
The nurses were all lovely and kind, and the doctor was nice too. They all reassured me that this was just an accident and doesn't mean anything about my ability to have children. One of the nurses was alone with me in the OR for a little while before it started, and she told me how sorry she was for my loss. I started to cry for the first time that day and thanked her. She told me she had been where I was and she now had three children. That she miscarried her first, too, and that it had taken her a year to get pregnant the first time. A lot of people have told me those kinds of stories, or told my mother (they're mostly older women who are done bearing children). They do help. I try to hold on to them when I feel scared about the future.
I've been popping ty.lenol every 4 or 5 hours and that seems to keep the cramps at bay. I'm also using my trusty old hot-water bottle. I bought it 10 years ago at Bo.ots' pharmacy during my year living in England between high-school and college. I never knew it would get me through so many awful times, but it's been there for me through periods I didn't want to get (and, long ago, periods I desperately wanted to get) and now through this.
I seem to have moved into the anger phase of this process. I've been a cranky bitch these last two days to my mom, my husband, the voices inside my head. I snapped at Lawyer Guy last night for nothing! Because he was talking to his mom about being upset he'll have to miss his family's Thanksgiving this year for mine. I sniped "Screw you" and stomped off to the bedroom to sulk and cry for three hours and then try to make up. Is it hormones? Am I angry at him? He's been so wonderful.
I don't know what I'm feeling half the time. I don't cry all day any longer, but I don't feel like myself, either. I need my husband and family so much, but I also push them away.
Real life starts again next week. I think I'll be ready for it. I think I'll be ready to move forward.
Reinvention of a blog
6 months ago