Some of you have been checking on me, wondering how things are going, so I thought I would share a quick update, which is to say that not much is going on. I’m no longer bleeding; in fact, a few days ago I felt like I might be headed toward ovulation. I’ll have my blood tested tomorrow to see where my HCG levels are. We’re hoping for under 5. I never thought I would hope to see low HCG numbers, honestly, but that seems to be my experience with life. I never imagined a lot of things. I’ve been staying incredibly busy with teaching and my other work, which is helpful at times until I have a few minutes to breathe, and then I fall apart. I’m just hoping time will slip by quickly. That’s all I can hope for right now.
I’m also working on doing all I can to keep the ole body healthy and happy. My primary care physician recommended maybe trying an anti-inflammatory diet just to really clean things out and promote a fertile environment. I’m inclined to listen to her; she’s usually right. She also recommended an interesting supplement for my anxiety/grief, which I hadn’t heard of before. It turns out (unbeknownst to her) that it is also showing to be helpful with ovulation and improved egg quality in some small studies. Those are some promising side effects, and it’s easy enough to take a supplement a few times a day. I’ll be going back to acupuncture again this week as well. It helped last time; I have no doubt it will help again.
And we wait. And wait. And wait.
In the meantime, life keeps passing by. J and I celebrated our sixteenth anniversary this week. I contributed to the festive nature of the day by catching a cold. We did precious little but go out to dinner. We cried a bit. We laughed a bit. We marveled at how long we’ve been together, how old we’re getting, how lonely it is without a child, how lucky we are to have one another through it all. We have been taking turns falling apart about this miscarriage, taking turns holding one another up. It’s no small feat because both of us have so little left to give right now. Still she manages to console me through the worst of it, and I try my best to be there for her during the worst of it. It’s something we’ve both grown rather skilled at, but we’re both tired of nursing one another through grief.
Today we both did our best to avoid the world of children in their Easter finery searching for eggs, smiling with delight over too much chocolate. I worked all day. J worked on some art. I somehow landed in social networking land a couple of times to find photos and videos galore that bowled me over with the reminder that the whole damn world seems to be swimming in beautiful kids, and my wife and I have none. We celebrated exactly two Easters with BG. He dyed eggs once. It was wonderful. But I won’t lie; it’s painful beyond belief to see other families doing the same. And I hate this holiday. It’s my least favorite. And still it hurts because having a child even made this holiday fun. Oh I miss it.
So that’s how I am. It’s a fairly miserable time here. I’m doing my best to find my way back, to avoid succumbing completely to grief and hopelessness. I’m hanging onto hope that I will get pregnant again soon and will be headed back toward having a child in my arms. I’m trying. It’s hard, but I’m trying.