Then and Now

When I miscarried in February, I felt surprise and dismay.

This week, I had steeled myself for the worst, but still had that moment of stomach sinking horror when I saw the empty orb on the screen.

Then, I had allowed myself to start planning. . . the girls would have to move into the same room. We would need a trundle bed. We would probably need a van. I called and put our name on the daycare list. I freaked about money. I imagined what a good big sister M would be and what a great helper E would be.

This time, I tried not to think ahead. I had a few moments, of course, like when I googled about car and booster seat combos and Honda Civics, but I tried not to go there yet.

Then, I didn't want to disrupt my school schedule or my children's schedules by taking a whole weekday for a surgical procedure and opted, instead, for an office procedure. Of course, I paid for that by hemorrhaging and requiring emergency surgery.

This time, I opted for the next surgical appointment available and figured we would work something out for J's work and the children's care. It worked out.

Then, I felt like it was just a genetic fluke and that I would certainly end up on the right side of the statistics the next time.

This time, I feel defective. Something is wrong with me. I don't make babies anymore, I make sacs. Beautiful empty sacs. It sends me right back to the high FSH diagnosis with the less than one percent chance of conception prognosis.

Then, I felt empty and sad. Now. . . I guess some things don't change.

Thanks for your lovely messages to my last post. They've been a source of comfort.