7 Weeks, 4 Days

>> Monday, March 16, 2015

I don’t really know what to write. In a way, I knew this was coming. In another, I was trying so desperately to cling to hope despite what my brain was telling me. I spent the bulk of the past week since our last appointment scouring the internet for early pregnancies that sounded like mine. I found quite a few and about half ended well and half, well, didn’t. One factor remained the same: I’m sure of our conception date and -- at very least -- that seven days behind was just too large a gap to be OK.

I spent a lot of last week in bed thinking I could have some control over the outcome. I’ve been terribly sick with nausea in the mornings and at night, which continues to this very moment. Everyone tried assuring me that increasing  symptoms are a good sign, but I knew otherwise from everything I’ve read. My body is very pregnant . . . but a large part of my mind had already given up. I think I needed this distance because emotionally I get way too far ahead of myself. Ada, too, was once this tiny bean, a potential child with thoughts, feelings, and so much love.

When we got to the ultrasound this morning, we had to sit in the waiting room for around 20 minutes with all those gigantic pregnant bellies again. I was wringing my hands to the point of hurting myself. Trying breathing techniques to lower my heart rate. The minute we got in the exam room, my pulse slowed considerably. I had come to this weird peace with what we might see. Like I said, I had this intuition about the whole thing.

And once the test was started, my thoughts were confirmed.

The baby measures 6 weeks, 0 days -- on the dot -- another four days added to the gap from last week, when I should be 7 weeks and 4 days. Unlike last week, that faint flicker of a heartbeat was much harder to find. We did see something pulsing, and it measured -- again -- around 92/93 beats. Another sign that things just aren’t progressing, I knew from my research, at very least that should have been stronger and faster. The tech showed me a few other signs that the pregnancy isn’t thriving, which I won’t go into, but at this point all we can do is wait. For how long, we don’t know.

I didn’t really cry like I did at my last appointment . . . instead, I felt this strange sense of calm that I haven’t had in a while. I felt guilty for not sobbing, but I had created that distance for coping, I guess. At the same time, I have so many questions and fears. How long will this take? Why did this happen? Why did it take so long to get pregnant only to have it turn out this way? How long will it take for my body to heal? Will it hurt? How long will it take to get pregnant again? Will I ever carry a pregnancy to term again? Is something wrong with us? What do we tell Ada? How much longer will I feel all these symptoms?

Why is this happening to us?

The midwife was helpful, but she can’t tell us much more than we already know. The baby isn’t healthy. This pregnancy isn’t going to mystically turn around. That being said, it could take time. Weeks. And that’s if we’re lucky enough to have it happen on its own. There’s still a heart beat. We made an appointment for two weeks from now if something doesn’t happen in the meantime. I’m desperately hoping my body will naturally cope so I can heal both physically and emotionally.

I wish I had more closure. It’s like I do, but I don’t. I so much appreciate all your notes, comments, thoughts, prayers, and everything else. They’ve been an incredible comfort to me. At this point, I’m going to try to carry on as normal. I don’t have control over what happens next. I don’t have control over anything, which is what this whole situation is showing me more than anything else. I don’t know what our next steps will be, but all I can do right now is hug Ada with all my might and give thanks for her every single day.

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