I don't mean the wonderful home I've created with my perfect husband and son. I mean the home that comes to mind when I smell popcorn and chocolate chip cookies, when I feel the cold night air and see the stars. I'm back at my home in Pleasant Grove, laying on the tramp, wrapped in my wubby (blanket), staring at the stars and thinking about exactly where I'm going to end up. A big family was always part of that dream.
Sometimes I want to go home.
I'm crying as I write this so forgive my nonsense.
I was supposed to start my chlomid again. I was kind of dreading it actually. I was enjoying not counting days and having lots of sex just for the sake of sex. But I want a baby. I want a sibling for my sweet boy.
My period never came. I was a week late. So before I called my doctor I figured I should take a test. It was positive. POSITIVE?! for the first time in 3 years we weren't even trying! How was it possible?! it must have been meant to be. I will admit I was a little freaked out. I barely spoke all day and I accidentally put too much pressure holding Casey's hand and he lost feeling in his fingers...
This pregnancy was different. It was so different. All of them have been just like Heston. This one was the complete opposite. My emotions were all over the place.
We weren't event trying! It must be meant to be.
I'm high risk for ectopic pregnancy because of what happened last year so I was getting a lot of blood tests done. My levels were a little low so they got me in for an ultrasound right away.
It wasn't in my tubes! it was in my uterus!! Victory!
My levels were still a little low so they wanted to get me in at 8 weeks for another ultrasound.
I was so nervous. But after making it past six weeks, I stopped worrying so much. I was letting myself hope. I'd always miscarried before 6 weeks. I tried to hold back my excitement. And I really think I did manage to hold back a lot of it.
Still, we thought it was a girl. We thought Casey was going to get his little girl. It was going to be a girl.
There was no heartbeat. everything looked great. but there was no heartbeat.
They wanted me back a week later. At this point I was almost 10 weeks. The baby stopped developing at 7.5 weeks.
I think every single person I talked to asked me what number of pregnancy this was and if I'd ever miscarried before. "This is my fifth. 2 miscarriages, 1 ectopic, and our little miracle."
"This is my fifth."
So much for being meant to be.
I could go off of the progesterone and eventually miscarry on my own, it would be painful and last about a week.
I could take a pill that would make me miscarry. It would hurt more but only last a few days.
I could do and D and C. A surgery that takes about 15 minutes where they dilate you and clean everything out. You're good to go the next day.
I didn't want to put my life on hold and mope for another week.
I didn't want medical bills to make me more bitter.
I wanted it to be over.
I didn't want to fall asleep and wake up and have it over.
I wanted closure.
I wanted to feel the pain.
I wrapped up my work week and took the pill.
It wasn't that bad. Casey held me through the worst of the pain and I only puked once and then it was over. The baby was gone.
The cramps are still there and they can get strong but nothing ibuprofen can't fix.
Can you tell I'm having a pity party? Today is the last day. Today I mourn. Tomorrow I move on.
God has patched my hurting heart. We're good and I'm loved.
Casey. Casey is my rock. Casey has kept me with an unlimited supply of popcorn. He holds me and loves me in spite of my bum uterus. He never makes me feel broken. He is the reason that I'm okay. While I've been worthless he's cleaned the entire house, kept me and Heston fed, kept us both happy and smiling, and accepted everything. I don't know what I'd do without my Moon. He knows exactly when I need to be held, when I just need sleep, when I need Heston to cuddle me and make me smile. He listened to me. to every disgusting detail.
Heston. That boy is amazing. If he saw the pain in my face he'd lay his hand on my arm and say "mom sick?". He is definitely his daddy's boy. He helped clean the house and do yard work. He loves helping us. He is the best.
I have an amazing support system. we have so much love sent our way.
Work has been amazing. The few who know are very supportive and caring. Work takes my mind off of things. When I put my work face on, it's exhausting, but it's a great distraction.
On my way home from the doctors, after they couldn't find a heartbeat, one of my favorite Skillet songs came on. Lucy.
It's been so long since I've written on my blog. but it helps me process. And more than that, I had people reach out to me because of my last post. I'm so grateful for those people who have let me know I'm not alone. Even when I don't feel like talking, it means so much that they've reached out. That they care. I want them to know, I care about you too. I hurt with you. I'm so sorry that you have to go through this. It shouldn't be this hard and you're right it's not fair.