I didn’t want to come back to this blog. I was done with the ‘reproductive’ part of my life. Actually, I was ready to end my life period. Ready to find some peace.
I was put on some lovely new cocktail of drugs to try to make me ‘happy’ again… as if a pill can erase the pain of a chain of dead babies.
And then last month I got up three times in one night to pee. I never did this other than when I was pregnant. I figured I must have had too much to drink the night before and put it out of my mind. Then it happened the next night and I woke up and took a pregnancy test. Scary when you know your pregnancy symptoms so well. Well, I guess when you’ve been pregnant 7 times before, you do kind of know your body.
So I freaked out and had to call lots of doctors- I was not going to be on these drugs as they are known to be bad with pregnancy so I went off them cold turkey. There’s just another hit against the poor potential baby that could be inside me right now. And we started all the other meds that I would have been taking if I had meant to try again. Probably too late, but it’s not like we’ll really know if/when I lose this one.
Tomorrow is my first ultrasound. We’ll see what we see. I have no false illusions this time that having a heartbeat is even a good sign. For now, it’s just a sign that I have to keep plodding through all of this. The last time I was pregnant, I thought seeing the heartbeat was such a great sign. For 5 miscarriages out of 6, we had never seen a heartbeat, so I foolishly told myself that we were in the clear. I fooled myself with that until Abby died at 16 weeks. There is no safe time. No safe zone. No ‘chance of miscarriage significantly decreases’.
But we’ll see what we have tomorrow.