In solidarity and with love,
Every once and a while the replay will flash through my head. RE and I chatting about making an appointment with my midwife. Insertion of the ultrasound wand. Idle chit chat. And then the room goes quiet. The doctors become a bit more tense. The idle chit chat stalls.
And then it becomes obvious, even to me, that there isn’t a heartbeat. I reached for Big Guy’s hand. I could feel my heart racing. I started to sweat.
The doctor said, “Unfortunately, it appears as if there isn’t a heartbeat. As you can see here, the yolk sac is unusually large.”
At this point I was already crying. I averted my face. They removed the wand and left to give us a few moments.
I think the instant replay carries the most pain when I remember Big Guy’s face and his sad, sad tears. I’m so sorry for your loss, Big Guy. You are my favorite.
Four hours past the D&C and I am no longer pregnant. Not even close. However, I feel strangely light and, dare I say, hopeful? My body can DO this. I can ovulate and my uterus can nurture and support a baby. My endocrine system can actively and productively participate in healthy hormonal transitions that result in a pregnancy. This will happen for us.
I will be honest. I didn’t expect this. I’m not prone to eternal optimism or an ebullient state of mind. I’m more of a glass half empty type of person. I consider myself a realist. As a result, I expected unending grief and pain, pessimism, sorrow and despair, and, perhaps, this all will come, in good time. However, right now I feel hopeful. I’m really happy I got to experience pregnancy, albeit only six weeks of it. For a brief moment of time, I was a mum.
Let me be clear. I woke up from the anesthesia crying. I don’t remember waking up, more of a realization that I was crying. My next thought was, “Good-bye, baby.” And then…wait for it… “I want a bagel and lox.” And then I cried for a bit longer. By the time Big Guy was allowed into post-op recovery, my tears had dried, and I was again focused on the bagel and lox. This event feels incredibly tragic and sad. It took us thirteen months to conceive, and it may take another 13, 18 or even 24 months before we conceive again. As I’ve alluded to before, we are returning to Go, but today there is a difference. Three months ago, during lucky cycle #10, I was devoid of hope and confident that my endocrine-challenged body couldn’t pull this feat off, but today I am hopeful.
I think our spirit baby is just waiting for a good time, a good sequence of DNA, a good little vessel for its soul. Some maintain that an active meditation practice allows a mother to communicate with her spirit baby. I think a meditation practice could be really helpful. It will allow me to work on quieting my mind and finding peace in the here and now. Now that I know my spirit baby is hovering in the ether, I think I may start. That sounds nice.
Today we went to my doctor’s office to have a routine ultrasound. We were eight weeks six days pregnant, but now we are not. But here is the thing, it wasn’t just a routine ultrasound because our progress towards creating a family has been fraught with pain and strife, and today, unexpectedly, we find ourselves Returning To Go. I do not get a Get Out of Jail card, nor am I allowed to collect anything on my way there. Just Return To Go.
So, four hundred twenty-four days after officially beginning our ttc journey, we are Returning To Go. The fun thing about games is that you get to opt out when things are no longer fun, but that isn’t an option today. Or any other day, for that matter. Today marks another day in our journey of love, longing, and infertility. We are starting at Go.