Courage. That’s what I am using to write today. It has taken me one week to gather my thoughts–one minute I find the strength to sit down, and the next I occupy myself with something easier, something that isn’t so emotionally demanding. In the same manner, my heart vacillates between sheer joy and absolute misery. I feel drained from this roller coaster of emotions. Thank God I have a safe place to store my thoughts with friends who care and liberally give of hugs both virtual and real.
I am pregnant. Over 6 weeks along. The positive test came as a complete surprise (and, ironically, 9 months after the last miscarriage). I had sobbed the night before because I was feeling so sick and felt sure my period would start anytime (it was 4 days late at that point). Per my doctor’s request, I called her immediately. She ordered blood work and we settled in for a long 2-day wait for results.
Bad news. My progesterone was very low. She ordered another draw 21/2 days later and started me on progesterone medication immediately (lucky I still had some from the last pregnancy, ha).
The next blood draw brought great news–my hCG levels had almost doubled. She set up an early ultrasound appointment for a couple weeks later to see if we could find a heart beat.
This last Friday, Ben and I went to the ultrasound. They did not find a heart beat, which could mean an impending miscarriage. I called my doctor and she set another ultrasound appointment, this time with her, for a week and a half later.
The biggest difference between this pregnancy and the last is I don’t feel like things are going wrong. I know my body very well. I knew there was something wrong with the last pregnancy. I knew it. I wasn’t as sick as I should be, I wasn’t as tired as normal, my muscles weren’t sore, my breasts weren’t sore–nothing was as I knew it should be. But this pregnancy, things are going well.
I am sick. I can’t read/write/look at the computer for very long or I start feeling even more nauseous. I toss and turn all night trying to find a position that relieves the nausea. I can’t wear regular pants because any feeling of tightness on my stomach starts me dry heaving. I can’t exercise because I start feeling too dizzy!
I am sore. Every. Muscle. In. My. Body. (And my boobs, too.)
I am fatigued. I mean, I fell asleep when my friend came over the other day. How awful is that? Yes–very fatigued.
Plus, I have no bleeding or cramping. So, based on my good pregnancies, things are going well. Right?
I am stuck. The dilemma is, do I hope? Do I expect the worst? In many ways I feel myself settling in and waiting for the bleeding and cramping to start. Why bother with hope when it can be just as devastating in the end?
I also feel very angry. All this sickness, all this exhaustion, all this muscle soreness for what? If the pregnancy ends, it seems these last 5 weeks have been a cruel test of my patience, faith, or whatever.
I suppose Reba’s song describes my feelings perfectly.