First, a very heartfelt thanks to everyone who commented on our amazing news yesterday. All of you have been on the rollercoaster with me (anyone puked yet?) and you have experienced the wild ride. If anyone would like to get off, please feel free at any time. As the conductor, I don't have that luxury.
image: Thomas Milne
During my appointment with Dr. Uterus yesterday, he kept apologizing for the rollercoaster that I was on. At the time, I really didn't see the need for him to apologize - after all, I had just been told that the pregnancy that I thought was over actually wasn't.
After the shock and awe settled, though, I saw his point. This is either a new beginning or just another chapter in the longest drawn out nightmare of my life. For purposes of self-preservation, I am choosing to think about it this way:
I am still expecting to miscarry. I have to, otherwise, I will be knocked around harder than a ball in a pinball machine. I don't want to give anyone the impression that I am hoping to miscarry - I'm absolutely not. I'm just not expecting that this will have a happy ending. Dr. Uterus said that he has only seen this twice (me being the second) and the first time the fetus developed for about a week before the pregnancy ended.
I know that I am not her and she is not me. But, nothing in pregnancy is certain - not until you have that infant in your arms and he or she is declared to be perfect with ten fingers and ten toes.
You may be surprised that I am not more excited. I simply can't afford to be. I've done the excitement thing and I got bitch-slapped for my trouble. And, it is the only way I can manage to function day-to-day.