My biggest fear was a miscarriage starting at home. I DID NOT want to hold toilet paper in my hand, clot of some in-determinable size/shape on it, and sob. I DID NOT want to stare into the toilet, like it predicted winning lottery tickets, and try to decide which drop was my baby. As cold as it felt, I didn't want IT to start before the surgery that would take it all away...
Mother's Day was just a week prior... I had sat at my in-laws and opened cards - fawned over single roses and carnations, rubbing my little 11w4d bloat, and just chuckled when my mother-in-law said, "I don't have a card for you because I'm a little superstitious and don't want to jinx anything..."
(Alanis Morrisette, AGAIN, anyone??)
I had already told my boss, who was SO understanding after she'd been through numberous IF treatments years before, that I'd be out the rest of the week. I spent the next few days after the disastrous doctor's appointment mindlessly painting everything within my reach: our guest bedroom, our guest bed frame, our deck. I put together a wrought-iron bistro set, CORRECTLY and ALL BY MYSELF! (ok so the first chair back almost fell off when I sat on it, but I turned that sucker over and had the screws tightened up in no time...)
I planted, plucked and watered everything in sight: new sunflowers I had planted the week before, house plants that I ambitiously picked up from Home Depot at the beginning of this domestic three-some bliss (completely over watered, and completely dead...) and brand new strawberries that the house's previous owners saw fit to plant. These are what might have saved me in the "keep-so-busy-I-can't-think" period:
Where you least expected it, you'd lift up heavy leaves to discover another three brand new red berries - life amongst it all. We've had dessert for 2 nights now off of those strawberry vines, with some help from CoolWhip (anyone else not think of that Family Guy episode??) and Angel Food Cake...
***
And then I received a card in the mail. I love my SIL to death - she and I get along really well. It's just incredibly sh*tty timing... that her "congrats on being new to-be-parents" card came just 1 or 2 days after my d&c... we of course told them what had happened the day after the surgery. But short of accosting the postal man, who is trained to slough through rain, sleet, snow or ice, that card was coming too late...
I went through a fit - I threw away the Mother's Day cards I got... I threw away the carnation delivered by a local pastor... I threw away the big packet of fliers from my OB/GYN about what fish isn't safe to eat... I threw away the Buy Buy Baby coupons I'd saved to use after our NT scan had safely passed...
I don't know what stopped me from throwing out our sonogram pictures from on top of the fridge. They still sit there, in their little white envelopes. I still remember walking out into the waiting room after our first appointment, and proudly pulling out the first print out of a little apple seed, and showing my mom: "There's a hearbeat!" was all I could squeak out, with my husband smiling proudly behind me.
Our next sonogram, 10 days later, was just a reassuring confirmation that the little heart was still beating away... And just like the sonogram tech who told us that she still carries her miscarriage around 20+ years later, this will never leave us.
We were pregnant for 11 weeks and 5 days. I had our Facebook announcement planned and ready for release in 4 days. Our family had been dreaming of a new grandhild, niece/nephew, cousin for 5 weeks and 2 days. I starting imagining nursery decorations and crib designs for 60 days.
It's been 1 weeks and 2 days since we've said goodbye...
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