An Excuse for Sad

Why might I be a little down in the dumps today? Because it's Friday the 13th? Well, no--but yes. You see, it's been one year to the day since the worst day of my adult life. No Heartbeat Day, the First.

Yes, that is my excuse to be sad. That is, if I needed one. But I don't! I just can't muster up sadness just to "celebrate" an anniversary. Now, I wouldn't want to hop in a time machine to a year ago and tell younger me that a year later, I would still have no baby or even a pregnancy. This is certainly much, much less than I had hoped for. That's okay, though. Surviving sure beats the alternative.

I can't pinpoint the moment it happened, but sometime in the last month, someone turned off the grief switch. Sometime between my D&C follow-up appointment--when I was a hot mess of tears and sadness, feeling hopeless and utterly drained from the simple effort of being in that office with all the pregnant ladies for over an hour--and now.

Let us flashback to my follow-up appointment. Dr. J was great, but I just couldn't keep it together. I had sat in the waiting room for over an hour, watching tons of happy pregnant people come and go. I kept it together, but then I had to see the nurse (serious Laurie, who is actually really nice) and Dr. J, and they had to be nice and sympathetic, and that just opens the door for emotion. Blech. I've got nothing wrong with emotions, but I hate making a scene.

This is how my plan backfired. My whole "just let it out" idea actually led Dr. J to observe that I wasn't handling this grief very well, and that I must wait to TTC again, lest another loss thoroughly crush me. Uh oh. I asked her if it's absolutely necessary to avoid conception before I get my first period. You see, it takes me forever to ovulate, and I hate having to wait forever. She hesitated. "It's not absolutely necessary," she said. But then she went on to tell me that if I did have another loss, it would be bad to wonder whether I should have waited. ("Ignore," said my brain.) She went on, "So just wait till you get your period, and if everything seems normal, go ahead and wait another cycle, and if that seems normal, you can go ahead and start trying again." ("Ign--wait, what??") I stopped asking her advice. I knew this waiting wasn't necessary. I wailed again about how freaking long my cycles are, so she attempted to placate me by offering Clomid. No thanks.

I left the appointment feeling worse than ever. But over the next few days, I started clinging to those words, "not absolutely necessary." Physically, I was ready. And I just knew that my cycle wasn't progressing yet. This would be a very late ovulation, which was perfect to give me a chance to move on. The closer I got to ovulation, the more I knew this would be a TTC cycle, and I was totally at peace with that decision. And seeing how mentally balanced I was about everything, DH was totally enthusiastic and on-board.

I'm currently 9DPO. So even though I'm not knowingly pregnant and I don't have a baby, at least there's a possibility of being knocked up a year after my first m/c (given our track record, a 2 in 5 chance). If I'm not, then at least I will get that one cleansing AF the doctor ordered. I'm completely disregarding the fact that Dr. J recommended I wait two cycles. I'd be so much worse off emotionally if that were my plan.

Lastly, it has been warm this week. Record highs on Tuesday, and our many inches of snow are now completely gone. It's getting colder, but the sun is shining. It's nothing like the weather a year ago. Also, this time of year is pretty much the perfect storm for me (aside from Holy Week), professionally, with accompanying for band students' solo contest. I didn't do much accompanying last year because I had too much fatigue from being pregnant. This year, I'm adequately distracted from any opportunities to make myself sad.

And that's all I have to say about that. Still miss you, Keiki. S/he'd be almost six months old already.