After the IUI failed, we decided we’d stop trying until we went to go see a fertility specialist. I didn’t take any more Clomid, we didn’t do any more procedures.
One of the women at work said offhand one day how funny it would be if we got pregnant in between all the doctors’ appointments.
Hawk and I joked all month that sex for fun was so much better than baby-making sex.
I’m pregnant. 4 weeks and 3 days.
Don’t get too excited.
Now the bad news. The pregnancy is failing. I had a blood test yesterday and my progesterone level is a VERY underwhelming 4. This is not good. At the absolute lowest, it should be, like, 20. My doctor prescribed some progesterone supplements, but does not sound particularly optimistic that they will work. I’m supposed to take them over the weekend and go in for another blood test on Monday. But chances are good that I will miscarry pretty soon.
I don’t really know what to say from here. I have pretty much given up on this pregnancy. I feel like I have “ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE” tattooed above my uterus. I am profoundly sad, the saddest I think I have ever been. I called my parents on Monday and got to experience their thrill at being told that they were going to be grandparents. And I got to hear my mom’s heart break tonight when I told her I am most likely going to lose the baby.
Before Hawk got home tonight I laid on the couch with my hands on my belly and told my baby that I was sorry. Sorry that I will never get to meet him, because I would have been a really good mom. Sorry because I did all I could to keep him safe. I told him to watch over all his potential brothers and sisters and keep them safe until it’s their turn. And I told him that it is okay for him to go if he needed to, that I wouldn’t be mad. That I would love him anyway.
And I cried harder than I’ve ever cried in my life.
But then I started to feel better.
Why?
At least I know I can get pregnant.
This may seem like a small consolation in the face of losing a baby that I have wished so hard and so long for, but it is a small ray of light in what is now a very dark tunnel. For the past sixteen months I have been convinced that it was just never going to happen at all.
But now I know that this isn’t true. I CAN get pregnant, even without medical intervention. That’s a fucking good start. There are tons of women out there who have suffered a miscarriage and who have gone on to have healthy children. And with the help of a good doctor, I have new faith that I will one day have a healthy baby.
This doesn’t lessen the hurt in my heart for this baby. I will never forget him and I will always mourn the loss.
But I will always remember him as the one who made me believe again, if only for a little while.
