So one week of Chinese herbs, and two weeks/four rounds of cytotec produced.... a gestational sac that is not budging in my uterus.
I can't begin to explain how dejected I felt yesterday, and how every moment of my day at work - where mind you I am in a staff "retreat" where we are all locked in a room and talking about work for 8 hours, three drays straight - was a challenge of Mt. Everest proportion. With much of the day surreptitiously looking at my phone as I tried to finagle the logistics of scheduling a D&C on Good Friday, when my daughter is home from school, while my husband is trapped at work. (God bless good friends out there who will take your drugged ass home from surgeries in a pinch. And the grandparents who will take your child for the day no questions asked).
But last night I was a hot mess. It took everything I had not to break down in front of Niblet, and let's just say I didn't have enough. She doesn't know what brought on the mass of tears, though she does know that mommy has had a number of stomach pains and needs to go a hospital to have a doctor make them better. The weight of the toxic what-ifs are getting to me (and I know my therapist would be pretty disappointed in my even going there). What if this latest D&C brings on a return of my scarring? What if I need to fly to Boston to get fixed? What if I miscarry again? What if I finally carry a healthy baby, only to have my cervix fail me because it's been through the ringer of so many D&Cs? I think anyone would feel a little crushed by the weight of these cumulative experiences.
You know, I often wear thick horn-rimmed glasses. I feel like Clark Kent, if Clark Kent were hiding the hidden identity of some broken mess of a grieving mother instead of Superman. I was tasked with giving a presentation/workshop to my colleagues, and all I will say is I must be some sort of compartmentalizing prodigy because I got a round of applause when it was done.
So I sit here writing this update, completely spent. Deflated. I am facing my fourth D&C. Dr. K is going to use ultrasound guidance, and be extra-careful not to be aggressive. The only silver lining is that the remains will be tested, though we expect a run of the mill trisomy or something. And I am facing the pure sadness of grief now, as the medical "management" portion of this latest miscarriage
winds to a close. My fifth baby is gone.