I thought I would feel better today, emotionally speaking. Instead I feel, well . . . , worse. Yesterday’s scan was fantastic news, but it has made me feel even more vulnerable than I did before. I read in my Avoiding Miscarriage book that your odds of miscarriage go down significantly once a heartbeat is seen, but I don’t find statistics especially comforting these days. The odds of having two miscarriages in a row are not very high either and look how fan-fucking-tastic that worked out.
I have never made it this far in a pregnancy before: the first was a blighted ovum and the second had a non-viable heart-rate. Instead of making me feel more secure, yesterday’s scan made me feel more afraid, because now I feel like I have more to lose. I have read enough, perhaps too much, to know that this is not bad news, but we are far, far, far from being out of the metaphorical woods.
The Plan has come to its logical end. The pee sticks have reached their maximum darkness so continuing to test is useless. Just in case you were wondering what exactly $18 worth of Dollar Tree HPTS looked like all glued (yes, I had to glue them onto a piece of cardboard so my cat would stop knocking them over) neatly together, here you go:
Does anyone watch Brothers & Sisters? The show is usually okay, and is at least a pleasant way to pass time on a Sunday night. So far, and the show is only in its second season, they have dealt with infant loss, postpartum depression and, this past week (4 November episode), first-trimester miscarriage.
Someone got a positive pregnancy test on TV and then had a miscarriage?!? They even did a scene where “Kitty Walker” (Calista Flockhardt) goes in to get her first ultrasound and they see the sac, but not heartbeat — they even use the term “missed miscarriage” ON NETWORK TV. Then her charatcer has to have a D&C and lays in her bed afterwards feeling “crampy.” I am very impressed with the writers. Appalled that I had to be reminded of ultra-sounds with bad outcomes tonight when I watched the TVoed episode, but impressed that they decided to tackle such an uncomfortable subject.
A lot of articles on miscarriage are, well . . . , disappointing. They either bombard you with statistics or talk to you like you are a moron.
One of the midwives in my OB’s office gave me a photocopy of this article when I arrived sobbing in her office after I found out my most recent pregnancy was non-viable. She told me not to read it for a week or so, and when I finally read it today, I thought it was pretty good.
“Solitary Sadness” by Wendy Ponte