Over before it's begun?

Oy Vey. As if we haven't had enough of a ride, it looks as though this pregnancy may not be viable. We had our first two blood tests, and the numbers were doubling the way they were supposed to. Phew. Thursday was our appointment to possibly see the heartbeat for the first time. We were scared and cautious, but excited. During the sonogram, the nurse hands the wand to the doctor. Yikes, you know that isn't a good sign. It gets quiet, and then the doctor tells me I can go ahead and get dressed; he wants to go check my numbers.

I assure my husband that everything is going to be alright, and I get dressed. The doctor comes back in, and tells us both that he is so sorry, but this is not a viable pregnancy. He says he sees no yolk sac, and at this point in the pregnancy, there should not only be a yolk sac but there should be a heartbeat. He tells us he is not 100% positive, so he won't tell us to take a pill to hurry things along yet, but he'd like to see me again on Monday to see if there has been any more growth, and confirm his diagnosis.

I AM SO ANGRY!!! Why is the Universe relentlessly shovelling shit in our direction? Haven't we had enough? How much loss am I supposed to take before I crack under the weight of it all. I am fighting so hard to retain my positive outlook, to find my lessons in all this misery, my glimmer of higher truth that I can cling to in this sorrow storm. AND NOW THIS!!! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM, G-D!! ARRRGHH!

It is now Sunday night, and I go back in tomorrow for the follow up appointment. The days since Thur have been rough! I've been trying to keep myself busy, maniacally cleaning the house, washing everything that's not nailed down. I went back to exercising, half for stress relief, half to say "fuck it" to the Universe: if you want this baby to stick, you better give me a miracle, 'cause I'm through helping and hoping. Driving is the worst: as long as I keep myself busy I can keep it together, but when I slow down enough to step into the car, to sit still, I lose it. I keep bursting into mouth-wide-open sobs as I'm barreling down the highway. Not the safest thing, I bet.

Yesterday, I had a break from all this pain, mostly due to my brilliant husband. As I took the doctor's pronouncement as law, Bruno took it as a possible last call to get to know and nurture Curly Five (as we're calling it). I wanted to spend today moping on the couch, but he insisted we get out into nature and celebrate our pregnancy. We drove to the Santa Cruz mountains and hiked for two hours in the redwoods and pines and fuzzy, mossy mountains. We ate apples out of a wild apple grove and talked the whole way and at the end of the hike it started snowing. It was magical. Then we drove down to Santa Cruz, had thick luscious cups of dark chocolate and drove by the Pacific at sunset, talking to the boys and Curly Five, spending "family time" as we have it available to us now. I did have one morbid thought of wondering whether I would ever have any babies that are alive to talk to, but mostly I rode on Bruno's hopefulness and had a decent day.

Tonight, however, he is on his way to Japan for a business trip, and I have never felt more alone or more insane in my life. I tried to stave it off all day. I went to the gym: that was good for a few hours. I went to Safeway and tried some retail therapy: I bought an organic chicken with the idea of roasting it for dinner (ha ha! I wound up eating corn chips and black licorice instead.) I knew I would pig out at some point, so I got myself some "health snacks": organic whole grain chocolate cookies, veggie corn dogs, and the aforementioned organic corn chips and black licorice. I had finished half the box of chocolate cookies before they ever saw the pantry shelf.

I watched several hours of bad TV and then a bad movie: The DaVinci Code. I must be pretty far gone, because I didn't think it was so bad. I rejected offers to see friends and family: I just feel too raw to concentrate. I talked to old friend: comforting and distracting, although one hinted that she might be pregnant, which is maybe not the news I needed this particular night. Oy, I so don't want to turn into that person.

And so the night is almost over. It is 8:45pm, which I think is almost a time with which I could get away with getting into bed. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow.