This post is the epitome of why I started a separate blog for this pregnancy. There is probably more information in here than the average person might care to know about. Feel free to exit the premises at anytime. Seriously, it is going to get nasty in here.
Since I got knocked up this time I have wished repeatedly that I was better about documenting things with my pregnancy with Renee. Like, did I get morning sickness in week 7 or week 8? Did I want to murder Ski for the first time before I found out I was pregnant or was it well in to the torture? I am wondering these things in order to glimmer some shred of hope that this pregnancy is viable and will be successful. I wished for the first two weeks that I would barf and was certain that something was wrong because I wasn't barfing. And then I barfed. Now I wish I wouldn't barf anymore.
On to the week from hell. I'll pick up where I left off from last week's post. I thought the spotting had stopped until Thursday at around 1PM when I went to the bathroom and saw BRIGHT RED blood. Not gushing blood but enough to make me leave work directly to go home to lay on the couch and cry. Ski came home. I called the doctor. They scheduled an ultrasound for the next day. Seriously I had to wait almost an ENTIRE day. I got up on Friday and called in sick to work and then Ski and I headed to the clinic. At this point I had no hope at all. I was awake most of the night before being incredibly sad...stupid things like "Would I name the blog the next time 'BabySki2' or 'BabySki3'?" It seemed like an injustice to just go on with life pretending like it never happened but I would have to explain what had happened to the world if I just skipped straight to BabySki3 only having one kid. And there were reasons for not telling anyone until 12 weeks in the first place. I don't want to explain to the world that my incompetent body had a miscarriage. It was NOT FUN and I was preparing for the worst. I was trying to reason with my depressed brain by assuring myself that I couldn't fall apart because Renee needed me. I tried to be thankful that I had Renee first before having a miscarriage because picking myself up off the ground seemed easier knowing that my body had managed to have one healthy baby...there had to be hope for another SOMEDAY, right? And I could always look at her to feel happy and grateful and lucky. There are plenty of people that don't even get one miracle and I already had mine. We'll have to adopt. Anyways, I didn't even look at the screen when she started my ultrasound. I didn't want to know. First she asked about complications with my first pregnancy and I told her about my septum and she was like "yeah, I see that" and I wanted to punch her face in because no one saw the damn thing the first time around. Then she said, POSITIVE FETAL HEARTBEAT (in a very shocked manner which totally PISSES ME OFF now). I started sobbing. They did some other measuring, documented where the blood was coming from, blah, blah, blah...all I cared about was that it's little heart was still beating. Then we headed down to see my OB. She didn't have an explanation other than that it might implanation bleeding that never got expelled and we would just have to take it easy and wait and see. There was nothing we could do except wait and see. I scheduled another ultrasound for Thursday, April 10th. We breathed a sigh of relief because as Ski put it "We are still in it." We ate cheeseburgers and went out for ice cream (we are TOTAL emotional eaters). When we got home from the DQ I was walking up the stairs when I felt something scary. I went to the bathroom. The whole toilet was full of blood. There was more than one clot. I made Ski look at it and he told me to get in the car and that we were going to the ER. It was like 30 minutes from Renee's bedtime so my wheels were turning trying to figure out how I could not go to the ER. I called the on-call number for my clinic and as luck would have it my doctor was on-call. She told me not to panic and assured me that it could be that my body was finally getting rid of the blood that was pooling there in the bottom of my uterus. She told me that if it didn't slow down in the next two hours or if I started having heavy cramping to go in right away. It slowed down and I didn't have any cramping so I went to bed. Or at least I laid down in our bed...sleep was not happening. Saturday I was pretty crampy but not much blood so we just took it easy. Sunday and Monday have been blood and cramping free. I'm trying to tell myself this is a good thing but there is at least 50% of me that is convinced that I had a miscarriage on Friday night. And I won't know if I did or not until Thursday. So now we wait...
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