It’s been two weeks since my baby was taken from me. I know that’s not exactly how it happened but I can’t help but feel that way. I wasn’t ready to lose him/her. I wasn’t prepared to give him/her back. I still wish with every ounce of my being that I could somehow go back and change the outcome. That we could be celebrating the fact that I would be 10 weeks pregnant tomorrow. But, that’s not real life. This nightmare is not going to suddenly end with me darting up in bed in a cold sweat… this is it. I’m really living it.
I think the bleeding is finally on its way out. Yesterday I had several hours of no spotting and while I had a little this morning, nothing since. The cramps have ceased and soon I will have no more physical signs at all. I had my HCG levels checked yesterday and they are already down to 49.5 so maybe by next week they will be back to 0 and after that it’s as if my pregnancy never existed. As if my baby was never truly here.
Each day has gotten better in the sense that the breakdowns are fewer. I am not crying as much and I don’t have the sheer debilitating sadness every second of every day. I am finding I can smile at things G is doing again. I can be a part of conversations our friends are having without totally zoning out. It’s getting better. However at least once a day if not more I get sucker punched in the gut with something that takes my breath away. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Haven’t we been through enough? I know it’s not nearly enough as some other people have been through during their IF journey but damn.
I still haven’t received the genetic testing or pathology results back which is frustrating since I was told 1-2 weeks. Why does everything take longer for me? Just my luck I guess…