You might be surprised to know that neither scenerio played out like I imagined. They never really do. I was so nervous all day before the appointment that I was shaky and felt like I was going to puke. We got to the doctor's office and I felt a smidgen better. Something about hospitals always makes me feel calmer.
Anyway, got into the ultrasound. The tech was rushing around and you could tell she was busy. Had to do the vag. ultrasound, which I hate with a passion. She didn't turn the screen away from me and we were only there for about 5 minutes.
I knew what was going on before she even said a word. Just a really weird shaped sac with a huge black mass of tissue and clots. When she said, "It doesn't look good" I could only whisper, "I can tell." It was then the tech stopped rushing and she actually looked as though she'd cry too.
No heartbeat, not even a discernable embryo. When she thought my back was turned I saw her type out, "Irregular sac. Something-something-something FETAL DEMISE." Those last two words will read through my mind for a long time.
So. No more baby and at this point I do not want to go through this again. The elation, then the confusion and fear, and finally the anger and broken heart. Just don't want to put myself through this again. I feel like a total failure and completely defective while at the same time understanding it was nothing I did.
But I DO feel that I should have gotten the progesterone sooner when it FIRST started falling or when I first called them to say I was pregnant. I know it can fluctuate throughout the day but seriously! I have a fertility problem and had taken Clomid in the previous cycles!
I guess there's no point in re-hashing it. I have a ton of progesterone pills left over and I'll just take them if I end up pregnant again. Which, by the way, would not be because we are trying because I never want to try again. If it happens, it'll happen and we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I have so much more to say and vent and get out but at the same time I have nothing to say. It's just one big jumble of crazy thoughts, what-ifs, and shattered dreams.
And I especially don't want to hear that it wasn't God's timing. I've heard enough of that. I get it.
I told you I hate November.
Now I'm just sitting here waiting to bleed out my precious baby.