I’m not in good shape today. I’ve been doing so well, and I actually thought I was fine and then randomly out of nowhere the tears started and now they won’t stop.
I had a dream last night that woke me. I was in a hospital bed, unable to move, surrounded by scared children who I had to protect from some sinister figure lurking on the ward. I was meant to keep them safe but I couldn’t stop them from running off into danger, I couldn’t stop them from being snatched away. I was completely powerless. I suppose if that’s where my mind is right now it’s no wonder I’m having such a hard day today. I know it’ll pass, I know it’ll get easier. I know it’s just a bad day. I also know I have to live through the bad days to get to the good days, but that doesn’t make any of this any easier.
It was confirmed this morning. The positives to take from this morning’s appointment were that no intervention was needed. My body has very efficiently done what it should. Not that it feels all that positive.
It was also a very different experience to the last time. A different hospital this time, and frankly, a much better one. We were treated with care, kindness and compassion which makes such a difference. The lady we spoke to after the scan gave us lots of good advice, lots of reassurance that despite having another miscarriage there’s no additional risk that it could happen again, and the fact that in between the two losses we had Arthur is reassuring in itself. The scan also showed that everything looks healthy and normal so as shitty as it is, this miscarriage was just one of those things.
I’ve been holding it together pretty well all week (or maybe just bottling it up, who knows) but I really feel it today. I’m sad. I’m angry. I want my baby.
Life’s not very fair sometimes.
7 weeks pregnant tomorrow, but not. I’ve been bleeding since Sunday. Mother’s Day. And my Birthday. Talk about Mother Nature being cruel.
More cruel yet is that I’m still suffering with morning sickness and dizziness. I still feel pregnant.
It doesn’t feel like last time. I don’t have that empty feeling this time, I don’t have the physical pain I had last time. It’s confusing and giving me what is likely to be false hope. I’m not a crying mess, I’m not consumed by the pain of it all. I don’t really feel anything but confused.
For now we play the waiting game until my scan appointment Friday morning. I only hope that it’s straight forward and unambiguous. I just want it done now. Gone.