I went back to the doctor on Monday for a follow-up for the second D&C and told them
I really wanted to get in there and make sure everything was truly out this
time. Somehow, I had the appointment wrong. I thought it was at 10:30 but
it was 11:30, so I had to sit in that office and wait to see if they could get
me in earlier. The happy couple across from me was looking at their ultrasound,
and I wanted to NOT look so badly but I couldn't help it.
Don't get me
wrong, I did not do some creepy stare (I hope) but as a person from a certain
region of the East Coast where we consider it rude to look strangers in
the face, my gaze was definitely not averted. I heard her whisper, "Oh, we
should send it to her …" and as one might imagine, it was totally depressing and
heart-wrenching and all that stuff I have been going on and on about.
waiting to get my good news at the doctor's office.
The ultrasound lab tech,
whom I know quite well now (she also had a miscarriage) came and got me
(thankfully, early) and pulled me out of the
baby-emotional-death-trap-trauma-nightmare waiting room.
And finally a hint of good news mixed with
ambiguous news: It looks like there is still a little something, but they think
it's just from the surgery, and, it looks like I may have ovulated by
some uterine forensic trace. And for the first time in a long time, I had a real feeling of hope that this
horrible experience may actually have an end in sight.
The doctor thinks I
should get my period in two weeks and then I will finally be out of the woods. Then it
will truly be over, for my body at least. My doctor told me she is glad I am
writing about the experience and it will change the way she explains
miscarriages to people, that she will emphasize that sometimes it can take a
long time. And it feels like forever.
And for the first time in a long time, I had a real feeling of hope that this horrible experience may actually have an end in sight.
I had all these grandiose plans to do some crazy
cleanse and stop drinking and eating sugar and grains and taking Xanax and whatever else is supposed to impede fertility for the next month
before we try again. But my therapist was like, "Whoa, I don't think that is such a great idea." She's not advocating
a bender, but feels if I tell myself I cannot have any of the things then I
will want ALL of the things and will go on a bender — it's just human nature. I told her what I told my OB-GYN, that I feel like I'm not taking the best
care of myself right now, especially around food or exercise. Both women were, like (over dramatization but it came across like this): "FOR GOD'S SAKE WOMAN,
GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK."
So that's my next step. I'm just going to try to be
nice to myself, I'll be gentle, even, and relax until I get my period.