*** Diary of a miscarriage

So, I have been writing about my pregnancy since we had a positive home test on April 1st. I thought I'd "release" all of my story once we were "in the clear" to do so, but now, with the final diagnosis of miscarriage, now's a good a time as any to post all those notes.

I have conveniently back-tracked and labeled all the the entries pertaining to baby X with "***" in the headline... feel free to go back in time to the first entry on April 1, or, feel free to avoid them cause you don't like potentially sad stories.

Today was our 3rd, and now final, sonogram.
Today was a follow-up to seeing a heartbeat just a week and a half ago.
Today was going to be a day we finally measure this kid to find out a due date.

Rob had to wait in the lobby on this visit since Evie's sitter is on vacation this week (and we forgot when making the appointment). Evie and Rob sat with a pile of books & goldfish in the waiting room while I sat in the sonogram room with video camera in hand. Yes, I had my iFlip with me. I was going to document it all to show Rob later since he was going to miss it while looking after Evie.
The lights went on, I hit "record," and now I can forever remember the words, "You see this here? The yolk sac that was nice and round last time? See how its now misshapen?" That comment then gave way to, "And over here, I just see some tissue and some calcium... I no longer see the heartbeat we saw last time. (pause, pan to the other side) You can see some placental tissue over here..."

I just kept the camera on. Silently. Taping.
I think it was a way of keeping focused on not saying something stupid. A way of treating this situation as a complete scientific situation and not the heart breaking moment it would be moments AFTER the DNC would be over. He looked around for awhile and said a few more things about what he saw. He didn't have to, I saw it all right away, too.
He stopped.
I stopped.

"Well, I guess now's the time where we talk about what our next steps..."
I cut him off.
"DNC. I want a DNC. I don't want to wait for anything, anymore."
He nodded and got exactly what I was driving at. He knew I wanted to be far removed from any part of this situation and to be teleported to anywhere, anytime far, far away from right here.

"We'll talk with Tammy (his head nurse) and set something up for Monday." "Wah-mwah-mwah-mwah," I honest to God heard nothing but inaudible talk after that as he told me about not eating before surgery... about how he knows my body can do this so there can always be another positive situation....
I cut him off again, "When can we try again?"
"I'd like to see one full, normal period and then after that."
"I know its stupid.... and selfish.... but,... I never wanted to have kids too far apart in age."
"Its not stupid! Everyone has plans. Look, we'll get you back on track and if you'd like to talk to a specialist right away to make sure you guys are turning over every stone to ensure a healthy pregnancy, you go right ahead and call."

I start to tear-up cause the thought of starting over has me sick. We've been trying for one full year for this. We tried for 2 1/2 years for Evie. I begin to add up the numbers in my head and question if I ever even want another kid. I question how I've let myself go all this past year instead of focusing ON ME all in the name of " trying to have baby number 2." I'm fatter than I've ever been, I never go anywhere with the girls, I put off a trip to Chicago... my head is spinning. The ferris-wheel of crazies has me captured. I break free. I'm back in the room and my pants are still off while a doctor is talking to me. I nod feverishly to anything he says in the hopes he'll soon leave.
He soon does.
On his way out he adds in a soft tone (trying to be helpful), "You have no dietary restrictions at this point."
"Good," I quickly add, "Cause I plan to get drunk tonight."
He laughs.
I pinch my eyes shut tight to pop out the tears I had been balancing on my lower eyelid, wipe them away and walk out in a very business-like, matter-of-fact sort of way.

I wait for the head nurse at the nurse's station. I tell her flatly I need to scedule a DNC. She offers condolences and I nod (holding back tears). She says she'll call me with a confirmation this afternoon. I turn and there's Rob... totally innocent and unaware of the news I had yet to share. I simply shake my head "no" and he looks shocked. He looks shocked in the sort of way you watched someone swipe a candy bar out of your hands. Sweet and childlike. He was holding Evie... it was hard for me to hold back tears then... but I somewhat succeeded.

I checked out, paid my co-pay and got on the elevator. I joked that I planned to have a drink tonight. Rob suggests Mexican lunch and margarittas. Excellent plan.

In the car, on the way to the restuarant I tell Rob, "You know, I'm angry."
He says he understands.
I tell him, "I mean, I'm 40% sad but 60% angry."
I stew for a short while.
Evie heard me and responds from the back seat, "Mommy? I'm so so sorry, mommy. Mommy? I'm so so sorry."
I finally cried. She has absolutely no idea what impact her perfectly timed words have.
I swallow, wait and thank her.

We get home after lunch to a flurry of nurse calls.
I solidify my appointment for 11:45AM (be there at 10:15AM) on Monday.
Its almost all over.