Yesterday during a routine ultrasound, at 8-ish weeks, I found out that I'm not carrying a baby....just a yolk sac. My body thinks it is pregnant, and it kinda started out that way, but it isn't continuing. The technician said that the ultrasound picture looks exactly the same way it did 3 weeks ago....just an empty circle that should have a zygote growing in it, but it doesn't. So I'm experiencing what's called a "Missed Miscarriage".
The doctor says that 1 in every 5 pregnancies ends in a miscarriage. Well this is my 4th and so far I'm batting 2 out of 4. I'm to wait a week and see if my body takes care of itself by expelling the pregnancy remains. I haven't started bleeding yet, my abdomen is still swollen and my breasts still hurt. In 1 week, they'll give some drugs to induce the miscarriage, and if that doesn't work, then a D & C will be performed. I'll do just about anything to avoid the D & C. If that happens, I'll need to be knocked out first.
I had a miscarriage before Max, which started with bleeding. Then my sore breasts started to leak milk. I hope that doesn't happen again. It took 3 weeks to do it myself, but it wasn't painful and it was really just like having a really long period. If we get to the point where drugs are needed, it's usually much more abrupt and painful. Sigh.
Hopefully Tim and I will try again around Christmas time. That's our luckiest time because that's when we conceived Max. So I'm putting away the maternity clothes and baby stuff to a closet I don't go in very often and trying to move on. I'm reading a book called: "Unspeakable Losses: Understanding the Experience of Prenancy Loss, Miscarriage and Abortion". It says:
"Perhaps the utter powerlessness implied by the loss of an unlived life is simply unacceptable. It may be too great a reminder that despite all the modern-day medical miracles that have both extended the human life span beyond what was thinkable even a few generations ago and virtually assured the survival of even the tiniest premature baby -- despite all the control over life that we have gained -- death is our common destiny. ....If you cannot name your experience you cannot have any real closure, and you end up with an emotional, psychological, spiritual dangling. People carry enormous, unrecognized grief for decades."
Blogging, knowing that I can write about these triumphs and failures, is really therapeutic and appeals to the extroverted introvert in me. Perhaps in sharing my grief with you in a public but silent way, I'm able to know that you're there for me without overwhelming me.
I feel foolish....foolish that I told everyone, because I now have to untell everyone. Lots of good friends and colleagues had started giving me baby stuff and maternity wear. I am so sad because I had already started planning my time off alone with my new baby. I have been able to walk Max to the school bus for the last two days and pick him up again and nothing gives me more joy. I need to become independently wealthy so that I can stay home. I'm living the dream today as I clean my house and finish preserving the vegetables in my garden. I'm going to pretend to be a kept woman and nest. And try to go back to work tomorrow.
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