Waiting

Waiting is never fun for me.  Waiting for something unpleasant is much less fun.  I found out I was pregnant the day my sister found out her baby had passed away.  (And I cried for days due to crazy pregnancy hormones.)  I worried about how and when to tell her, and decided on waiting until much later.  I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore.  Or getting a larger vehicle by January.

Today, I started bleeding, just spotting at first, and then real bleeding.  The OB did blood tests and an intravaginal ultrasound.  They would be very surprised if I didn’t miscarry.  A blessing confirmed that I will, and that it will be okay.  At 6 weeks they don’t usually do D&Cs, which I didn’t want anyway.  

So now I wait.  The first time I didn’t know what was coming.  Now I do, though every miscarriage is different, and I’m dreading it.  The pain, the blood, the time, the weakness and recovery.  I want it to be over and done so I can start over.  Dumb pregnancy hormones are making me weepy.  My body knows it’s not pregnant anymore.  The nausea left all at once.  But the hormones take much longer to subside.  

I want to run.  But even when it’s over, the best I can do is limp.  A stranger at the bus stop asked if I was okay as I slumped against the car when I returned from the hospital.  A neighbor pretended he didn’t see me as I cried my way up to my house.  I almost laughed, but I was busy crying.

The cramping is mild, but not so mild that I can sleep.  Maybe if I can sleep, I can deal with this tomorrow.  I’m glad everyone is going to be gone.  I was going to go to the PCC too, but now I will stay home in bed and hope it’s all over by the time they get back.  I don’t like people around when I’m in pain, or sad.  I don’t like writing public posts like this, but I was going to write it anyway, for my journal. I hate to end on a not-particularly-positive note, but at the moment I’m not feeling all that positive.  Maybe tomorrow.