the post I never wanted to make...

It's been a two weeks and two days since I found out that I was not pregnant, even though my body continued to think I was.

I will preface this by saying this will be my only post about this. I want this post to serve as my official "moving on." I'm not one of those people that like to continue to talk about something like this. I can't heal if it keeps coming up. I need to internally process it - which I'm not sure I've done yet - in order to move on. It might seem selfish; but we all handle these things differently.

I also want to say that the overwhelming amount of love and support I've received from everyone has been very over whelming for me. I'm not used to handling attention. I'm still trying to respond to everyone that reached out to me. That's how many people did, in fact, reach out to me. For the first few days I couldn't talk to anyone that wasn't my husband or my mom. That's why it's taking me so long. I apologize. I promise to write all of you back.

Okay. Where to start.

Well - most of you knew two weeks and two days ago I had my first ultrasound at 10w3d. I was nervous. I had bought a doppler. One of the best. I hadn't been able to find the heartbeat at home. I know it's not uncommon - but I just had a bad feeling in my heart. Most women had found it by 9 weeks at home with this doppler. I tried to ignore that I hadn't found it at home. But it was constantly nagging. I wanted to believe that I'm just a moron and couldn't find my uterus. Clearly my gut was right.

We went into the appointment very hopeful/excited/nervous. The ultrasound tech brought us back and got us set up. She put the gel in my lower abdomen - and pushed down with the scanner thing (I have no idea what it's called). Right away we couldn't see anything. I instantly knew. My husband tried to hold out hope. The tech said nothing. She took measurements of uterus and ovaries. Asked me to go to the bathroom since my bladder was full. I looked at my husband and told him "this is not good."

I went pee as instructed. Came back for her to use the dildo cam. She told me later she was hoping to find something that would show I'm not as far along as I thought I was. I'm not an idiot. I know when my last period was. I chart. I knew exactly how far along I should be. I was crying hysterically. I had to go see my OB right after. My husband started to cry. They took us to a separate waiting room where we cried and clung to one another until we were called back to see my OB. We were a mess. We were shocked. We were angry. A true basket case of emotions.

We were called back to the OB's office. The nurse took my vitals and told me she was sorry. I wanted to punch her in her fucking face. But I just kept crying. My husband came and held me. Cried with me more until my OB finally arrived.

My OB told me that my uterus was measuring 7w5d. But that was it. There was nothing else there. She apologized as well. I wanted to punch her too. But all I could do is cry. I didn't understand why my body wouldn't recognize that there wasn't anything in there. And explains why I couldn't find the heartbeat at home on the doppler. All my fears were instantly realized. She gave me three options: 1) let my body try and naturally miscarry on it's own; 2) take some pills to help induce the miscarriage (which may or may not work) or 3) have a D&C.

I chose option 3 - and to do it as soon as possible. I was ready to get it over with and move on. My doctor told me I could take my time to think about it - but I didn't need to. I just wanted to rip the band aid off and try to move on. That's just who I am. Many of you may be asking why did I need to have a D&C since there was nothing in there? Well there was some stuff. My lining was pretty built up. And there was some tissue. Again, my body thought I was pregnant. I took a HPT this past Thursday (6 days post op) to see if the hormones were out of my system. They weren't. I still got a positive digi HPT.

My doctor sent the order for the D&C and I awaited the phone call from the surgery center for my instructions. I was having surgery the very next day. I called my mom to give her the bad news. I cried the whole way home. Then I went numb. I didn't cry the rest of the day. My husband and I went to pool league that night like nothing ever happened. He said I was like a zombie. It hadn't fully hit me yet. I didn't want to sit home on Thursday night. I had done enough of that for one day.

I got my phone call from the surgery center. Got my instructions. 2pm surgery on Friday. No food/drinks after midnight. Take a shower using antibacterial soap. Be there by 1pm for surgery prep.

I woke up on Friday still feeling numb. I was numb all day as I went through the motions. I got to the surgery center to check in. I had the most amazing nurse check me in. She was fantastic going over my paperwork and the procedure with me. No tears as of this point. It's really something to look at your paperwork and see under diagnosis: missed abortion. I hate that the medical community still uses that term. I sat in the waiting room after getting checked in with my husband. Still no tears.

I was called back by my pre-op nurse. She asked me if I needed to go to bathroom before I got started. I said yes. That's when the tears started. While I was peeing. I can't explain this. I finished, washed my hands and headed back to my room.

She started to explain everything to me. I zoned out. I was crying. I couldn't stop. Thank God my husband was paying attention. She left the room. He helped me change per her instructions. I cried. She came back. I was still crying. She got my IV started. Still crying. I felt nothing. I just couldn't stop crying. She told me she was so sorry (fuck off). She handed me a couple of angel pins. She handed me two. For both my losses. I gave them to my husband to put in my purse. She left and I waited for the anesthesiologist. My husband finally broke down and cried with me. A good five minutes. We cried like our lives were ending. Because it felt like it. The emotional pain and the finality of the D&C is like no other. I wish it on no one.

My anesthesiologist came. Explained the whole deal. I cried through the whole thing. Her nurse came back right after. Shot my IV full of Valium. I still cried through that. Just not as hysterically. My doctor came back and explained the entire procedure to my husband and I. I cried. Then I cried more. By now, my husband had gained control again and had stopped. The operation nurses came back to get me - it was time to go. My husband gave me a kiss and told me he loved me. I kept on crying. I told him I loved him too.

I cried the whole way to the operating room. I got to the operating room and they told me slid off my roller bed on to the operating table. I was still crying. (Fuck now I'm crying typing this up.) The last thing I remember was the anesthesiologist telling me I was going to be asleep very soon. I think there was a mask put over my face. I just don't remember.

I wake up feeling drunk as hell - I'm in my recovery room already. My husband is there. I was talking to my nurse. I had to concentrate to talk. It was hard. But all drugs made me forget my emotional pain (temporarily of course). They twice gave me pain drugs through my IV. Then I got two percocet. Finally cleared to go home. My husband stopped at a fast food place on the way home. We were both starved. I got a cheeseburger. They told me to eat slow; I'd be nauseous from the anesthesia. I ate two bites of my burger and thought I was going to vomit. My husband was confused. He told me "I don't think you have to eat THAT slow." I told him I was about to vomit all over his car. I got home and fell asleep on the couch. I didn't have the strength to go up the stairs when I first got home.

My husband finally woke me up and helped me to bed around 11:30pm. I slept very soundly (thank you, drugs). I woke up Saturday without a hang over (win!). My husband had school all day. I spent the day with my mom. There were tears spread out throughout the day. If I couldn't be with my husband, she was the next best thing. She was awesome. The worst part was church Saturday evening. I cried from the start to finish. I couldn't control it. No matter what I did. (Damn it, I'm crying again.)

Sunday I spent the day with my husband. I had a breakdown in Target. Freaked out at him over Christmas lights. I was trying to force myself to do things. My doctor told me to get back into a routine as quickly as possible. Maybe being out on Sunday was too quick.

This past work week was difficult. Especially Monday - I didn't want to be there, see anyone or do anything. But I had to force myself to go. I had to wake up. I had to move on. I've cried every day this past week at some point. But everyday has gotten better too.

I have leaned on my faith to help me. I cried at the feast of the Immaculate Conception Friday night. I asked Mary to help me. Tonight at church I felt tears stinging at my eyes, but was able to keep it in. My husband said he almost cried too.

We're still healing. We probably will for a while. We haven't decided what we're going to do. We don't know what the future holds. We hope it includes a child.

Right now I'm still spotting/bleeding. It comes and goes in waves. In a way, until that stops I'm not sure I can move on. It's like a reminder of what happened when all I want to do is move on. I have one HPT left. I plan to use it next Friday in hopes that the HGC is out of my system by then. I don't have my follow up with my doctor until Dec 20th (stupid office couldn't get me in before then - even though she wanted to see me on Dec 14th). For the first time in a long time, I want a negative HPT.

This has drawn my husband and I incredibly close. I have leaned on him and he has been there for me. He's so incredibly strong. I am so fucking lucky. This experience has made us closer. That is a positive to take away. My doctor said we can start TTC as soon as period comes. We just aren't sure we're strong enough for another loss.

If you're still here - wow. This was a lot. I truly and sincerely hope you never have to go through something like this. It's awful. Let me just say: physically it's not painful. It's very quick and they give you a lot of drugs. It's the emotional toll that is exhausting. I've lost 7lbs in one week. Not the way I wanted to.

Thank you for allowing me to share this story. It's been rough and there's still a long journey ahead. I love you all. I will continue to blog but will probably be less about TTC for quite some time. I will continue the daily inspiration. I need it just as much as everyone else.

I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and blessed New Year.