I’m doing ok. I just feel very emotional and fragile, which is normal, but weird for me since it’s been so long that I felt like this. I’m hormonal, and the loss feels like a blow that has turned everything upside down. I assume I will feel more like myself in time.
On the other hand, after an experience like this, I do think it’s normal to think about what’s really important in life. Based on my admittedly limited sample, I don’t have easy pregnancies. There is a huge hormonal impact to me from pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, etc. Not that I need or want to lie in bed for 9 months. I think I just need to make a few adjustments next time around, and hopefully there will be a next time around.
I guess the conventional wisdom is that there is no need to do genetic testing, unless it happens again. That seems ass-backwards to me. Why not do a blood test first to rule anything out?
And what if we get pregnant, do a cvs at 10 weeks and it’s normal, and then something totally unrelated goes wrong? I realize that these outcomes are rare, but it’s easy to feel cursed once you’ve already had something go wrong.
I keep thinking about our conversation with the genetic counselor. You’re beautiful people! You’re going to have beautiful babies! I’m not sure what I find more strange. The suggested connection between good looks and a healthy baby or the fact that she called us beautiful. Don’t get me wrong. We’re not exactly hideous. But I feel like either she should get out more, or perhaps my suspicion that there are less hot people in DC than in other major metropolitan areas may be correct. That’s fine. For you, DC, I will accept my role as part of the beautiful people. But I should probably wash my hair more often.
In her defense, a fucking fire alarm was blaring in her ear at that moment. Yes, a fire alarm went off when we got our diagnosis, so we couldn’t even have a full discussion with her. See? More bad luck!
Maybe I should believe in yin and yang, although all of what I know about yin and yang comes from a Seinfeld episode. A friend of mine said yesterday that I’d had two crappy pregnancies so I was due a really easy one. Maybe it will work that way. Wouldn’t that be nice?
I just don’t know what to think at this point. I want to believe that everything will be fine, but it feels like that would be tempting fate. Not that I believe in fate, but I don’t know what to believe in when the doctors tell you you’ve had a case of bad luck.
So this would be a great time for the universe to fill me in on its meaning. I’m listening. I’m ready. I’ll take that information anytime now.
