The inevitable

There are some moments in life that just can't be absorbed. Moments that require reflection, with distance. I am certain that this is one of those moments.

The events of the past 5 days have left me sort of hollow. To recap:

I started bleeding on the 9th - nothing all that serious. I went about my day as usual. Went to a talk at NIEHS with my friend, J. Got home, started feeling worse, cramping some, went to the ER. At the ER, they did 2 ultrasounds, one internal one external. Met a Pentecostal lady who told us she "couldn't wait for Jesus to come back." Had some blood work done. Got an hCG quantity of 1260. That's pretty low. Got some antibiotics for an infection. Went home. Sent an email to my supervisors at the school where I teach. No response.

Saturday, the 10th - bleeding lightened up. Played with the guys. Good times. No big deal. Still no response from my supervisors.

Sunday - feeling worse, bleeding back and more severe. Still no response from supervisors. Send semi-angry email that I'm annoyed no one checks their email over the weekend.

Monday morning - arrive to teach my class, talk to supervisor when she arrives late. She informs me she has a hurt back and she just can't find anyone to teach for me. I teach for 5 hours, while totally distracted and bleeding much more severely. Pissed, now.

Monday afternoon - have another blood test. Meet the man who would have been my OB. He's not hopeful.

Monday night - Miss the call from the OB while I'm teaching. Again, with the teaching. Apparently, there ARE no substitutes or policies for sick instructors. Damn.

Tuesday morning - Get the call. hCG falling to 300s. Go in next Monday for a follow-up blood test.

So this is miscarriage, right? Seems like I should have known this. I wanted the kid. I really did. And it feels like that was my last chance. Maybe it's some sort of karmic atonement for lying about the abortion I had. Whatever it is, I can't find the right words.

Someday, with some perspective and some time, I'll write more. Today, there is only absence. And some pain.

Spicy noodles or Baby3Blog1

The day before THE TEST

April 1st, 2010

On March 28th, a Sunday night, I took two pregnancy tests. They, of course, came back positive. A glaring "what-did-you-think-was-going-to-happen, stupid?" sort of response. It was as if the test was yelling at me. I did not respond well. In fact, I sat on the side of the bathtub and contemplated the conversation I'd had with Andy three days earlier. It went a little something like this:

Andy: "I think I should get a vasectomy."
Me: "Really? I mean, what if we want more kids...I kind of want a big family but I guess you're right, I mean, it's totally irresponsible to keep having children. So I don't think I'm totally on board with this. Maybe we could get it reversed someday, right? I think they're reversible. I wonder if it'll hurt, I don't want them to make you hurt. Yeah, I think you're right. Two kids is the responsible thing to do. We should be done. Okay, let's get you a vasectomy.!"
Andy: "Okay, then."

See, I'm sort of a verbal vomiter. I have to talk things out or write them out. But we'd made this decision, right? The responsible one. And then, three days later, I'm sitting on the tub, wondering how I'm ever going to tell him about this. He knocked on the door and asked if there was a reason I was hiding from him. I responded with a "yes."

And now, here we are. Pregnant with our third child. And we're happy...if apprehensive. Aren't parents always apprehensive? It's scary. Three kids under the age of 5. Three kids to clothe and feed and put into some sort of credible child care. It's actually sort of terrifying. But joyful. I have always wanted a big family (and if we were rich, I think Andy would too)...and others have done this. So here we go. Maybe it's for a reason. I don't know. But I'm grateful for a third baby. I'm grateful for another companion for Archer and Aidan. Another precious child. Another joy. Another year of sleepless nights.

And then I'm going to be grateful for Andy's vasectomy. Because, oh yeah, he's getting one now. Trust me!