I'm sure that would have been nice for me to have had at least a few posts that shared my giddiness and excitement over the prospect of having a child. I allowed myself to get excited. For six weeks, I could feel my body changing. The hubby and I actually discussed names! Names! From Valentina to Francisco to Atticus (which of course he denied), we let ourselves revel in the moment that we would be having a little one. I even talked about how to fix the room and we discussed what would happen if there were multiple - we'd move in with this parents of course.
The acupuncturist encouraged staying positive and allowing myself to be excited. And eventually I agreed. Of course we told his parents, my mom, and just a few friends. Now, believe me, we both told ourselves to hope for the best, expect the worst. But damn, we had that early sonogram and we saw the cells growing. Sure I had been bleeding, but my blood test results kept showing the increasing hormones indicating pregnancy.
So then last Monday we had another sonogram. The doctor used the vaginal sonogram wand and was searching, searching, and we looked on over his shoulder and I moved in discomfort. We were not seeing the cells anymore. He did not see the cells. It disappeared, it was gone. He told us that's why he hadn't gotten that excited the first time around because things like this happen. He reassured me that it wasn't my fault, that essentially it was a bad embryo, with maybe even a chromosomal challenge.
He walked out and I cried. Of course I cried. And the hubby was comforting but of course he was disappointed as well.
And then yesterday I got my period. So on top of going through disappointing news, my hormones continue to rage and I find myself having fits of crying. Today, at work, I'm crying as two mothers brought their daughters to work.
So I had to write, to let go of this pain. Slowly but surely it comes out, although I really want to scream it out.
More later.
