I have been drinking (not a lot). Enough to get my heart racing though. I’m gonna pour another soon.
My dog has been sick. We don’t know what’s wrong. She’s been to the doctor many times. We’ve gotten her pills. Just now she decided she was gonna vomit, so in my scramble to get her off the bed, I sent the computer flying to the fake wood floor too. Before I cleaned up the vomit, I had to scream at the top of my lungs, spew a mouthful of obscenities, and punch the bed a few times. My throat hurts and my hands are raw from balling them into fists and punching.
So I had the sad part of this experience two days ago and now the anger comes in full force. Today my temperature took a huge dive, and not long after waking, I began spotting. Welcome to my miscarriage. When I made the tag “Miscarriage” for this blog, I thought I’d only have to use it once when I told the story of how I got here. Sad to say I was wrong. I hope in the future I never have to use it again.
The good news is that this turned out to be a chemical pregnancy and not an ectopic pregnancy. In The Impatient Woman’s Guide to Getting Pregnant author Dr. Jean M. Twenge says she hates the term chemical pregnancy because it sounds like you just made up being pregnant. She prefers the term “early loss”. I like that one too. For you in the cheap seats, basically a chemical pregnancy or early loss is just exactly that. It’s a pregnancy that doesn’t develop beyond 6 weeks. In my case mine was only about a week old. Early losses are VERY common and statistics say about 50-75% of miscarriages are early losses. For women not tracking their cycle an early loss may just been interpreted as a late period. For those of us who are watching, we know what happened. That’s both the positive and the negative of using FAM. The positive is that you know what’s going on with your body. The negative is that you know what’s going on with your body. This can be rough if you’re suffering a miscarriage.
So here I am world. I am 36 years old. I have lost two babies. One was a mere heartbeat and the other was a blob of cells. Even though they never had a chance at life, I would have liked to have been their mother.
Fuck this shit. Now this blog is getting all sad, and I don’t wanna cry. I’ll pour another, drink to those I’ve lost, dust my ass off, and we’ll try again. Good night.