Thanks to everyone for their lovely comments to my last post. (PJ – I inadvertently rejected your comment when I meant to accept it. Sorry!) You are all correct that I need to just focus on the present and practice some mammoth distraction techniques. It’s a shame, really, though, that I need to use mammoth distraction techniques rather than allowing myself to be joyful. I just don’t think I have reached that point yet. Frankly, I don’t know if I will ever reach it. I do know that I miss the innocence that I had last time. I knew the statistics, but I was fairly confident that we would be in the 90% who go on to a successful delivery after hearing the heartbeat. We heard it twice and still lost our baby. That experience taught me a very important lesson about odds: they don’t mean shit. Statistics are a crude way of giving clinical meaning to important events. The insurance industry is built upon statistical chances, but it’s no way to live in real life. If I only looked at the statistics, would I have still done IVF? Would I have tried to get pregnant again? I don’t know. I made both of those decisions based upon how I felt, not what numbers told me.
So now, the odds that a woman who miscarries once will go on to have a successful pregnancy 85% of the time doesn’t really mean much to me because I have been on the winning and losing end of the stats. I know in my heart of hearts that what will be will be and the control freak in me can’t do anything to change it at this point, so there is no purpose in worrying about the heartache that might come. Worrying about it doesn’t make it any easier than if you are completely taken by surprise with bad news.
While I don’t think I can be joyful yet (or as my friend put it, we haven’t reached “woo!”), I can actively not worry either. I can just exist. And visit Cuteoverload.com to see adorable pictures like this:
If this can’t make things all right, nothing can.
My zen attitude has already been put to the test, though. I realized this weekend that Sweetie will be out of town the week I have my first OB scan. He’s on a business trip that has been scheduled for some time and he can’t reschedule. Dr. Uterus’ office gave me the option of waiting until the next week, but my need to know sooner is greater than my need to have him there. That may sound harsh, but I prefer to get my news (good or bad) as quickly as possible.
This of course left me with a Class A Dilemma. Should I go by myself? I went to my Last OB Scan of Doom by myself because we didn’t think there was going to be much drama and it was right after vacation (so Sweetie needed to show his cherubic face at the office). Of course, it turned into the OB Scan of Doom. It was horrible. It was up there in the top 3 worst days of my life and I went through it by myself. By the way, I have no ill-will toward Sweetie about this. Neither of us had a clue and if we had, he would have certainly been there.
All this past weekend I vacillated between “yes, I can do this by myself” to “no, there is no way I can do this by myself.” I hinted to my mom that it I wanted her to fly here for the appointment but she’s not available. I asked my neighbor down the street who went through IVF, but she’s working. I had one option left: my other neighbor (no, not nosy lady) who I’m still becoming good friends with.
I had told her briefly that we were going through IVF and bless her, she didn’t really ask for details. It was one of those, if you want to, you’ll tell me, otherwise we’ll talk about how adorable my dogs are (and they are). I was kind of afraid to ask her to go with me because it’s a very private moment and we haven’t known each other for more than 10 months or so.
I finally decided today that I really wanted someone there with me who cared about me and could handle the good and the bad. I called her and told her that I need to ask for a really big favor. I told her that I was pregnant and asked if she would go with me to the scan since Sweetie will be out of town. Her immediate response: “Absolutely!”. I was so relieved and grateful that I had someone who was willing to do this for me and be there with me. I thanked her profusely and she told me, “You’re making my mascara run!”