thank you

I keep sitting down to write something.  I sit down, I stare at my computer.  My eyes well up, I try frantically to push the tears back because I can't stand even one more. My eyes burn and sting, they're so swollen they could pop.  I try to think of something else, anything else, and then I leave this room that for some reason hurts more than any of the other rooms right now. When I'm here, I can't escape it.  B finds me in here staring at the wall. He hugs me and asks what's wrong.  I tell him nothing, because how do you explain that for the 3000th time you're thinking that you let them kill his baby?




I decided that this morning I needed to write.  First for myself, to allow myself this much needed outlet, this thing that has pushed me through a tragedy or two before.  Never something like this, but things that stung in their own way. But second, I needed to write for those people, the ones who took the courage to say that they're sorry for us- that they wish it was different, better.  For the people who have tried to hug us, to hold us, to tell us that they're there. What unimaginable courage it takes to offer another human being support. 

I'm weak.  I fear that I'll say the wrong thing at every turn.  Maybe it's because I've had the wrong thing said to me from time to time. That's why I understand those who can't comment, who can't say anything. I get that. And as I read through the comments from my last blog, each and every one of them touch me in a profound way.  Everyone said exactly the right thing, something that gave me a little more strength. And as I talk to my parents, my family- I know how hard it is to know what to say.  And yet they do, they muster up the courage to say what they're not sure will be the right thing.  And it feels so warm.  I could sit here for days, months; alone in my thoughts.  Feeling desperate and confused.  I would drown in them.  I would suffocate in my own anger.  But letting you all in, letting your words give me air was the best decision I could have made.  And I want to say thank you.


I haven't heard from the doctor yet. I was hoping he would give us a call on Friday afternoon or evening when he got the report.  And then I secretly hoped he'd be man enough to call over the weekend.  Now I'm hoping that he didn't see the report so that I don't have another reason to hate him. I wonder if we'll hear from him tomorrow or if I'll need to call.  They didn't schedule me for another blood test to monitor my HCG after this last MTX shot.  They always need to do day 4 blood work and day 7.  That'd be Tuesday and Friday.  They also need to monitor my liver function since it's still been high, and a double dose can't be good for that.  ...  ...  an unnecessary double dose. ... of the stuff that can be damaging to your liver.  unnecessary.

I'm still not in a good place. I think bad thoughts too often.  Guilty thoughts from time to time that even I know shouldn't be there.  I know it's not my fault.  I know that.  But they creep in, that feeling that I knew.  I should have said something. I could have done something.  ...I know that's "wrong", but tell me what about this isn't "wrong"?

Also, I know some doctors.  I have good friends who are doctors.  And they're good people.  I want to curse the entire profession right now- but I know that's wrong. There are good doctors out there who I need to trust again one day.  I'm just in a bad place, and it feels better to blame the whole lot of them rather than ...  well, myself.  For picking this one.  For listening to this one.  For believing in him, for standing up for him, for giving him our entire world. 

We'll have to decide what to do next at some point.  We'll need to make plans for another round of IVF, or a laparoscopy, or just several thousand trips to Vegas.  There will have to be large steps forward.  We'll need to decide whether we stay with this "doctor" or go to another.  Start all over trusting someone new.  Putting all of our faith into someone else who hasn't proven anything to us.  I'll be interested to see if Dr. Z shows any remorse.  Maybe he would be extra cautious with us next time. Maybe he would tread lightly, feel fear for a wrong move. Maybe he'd do a free round? no. probably not.  Maybe he won't care and we'll have to pull another name from a hat to see what happens.

But right now I still have something inside of me. I don't even know what to call it, what to say about it. I'm just waiting for it to "flush out" or something.  Nothing's happened yet.  Will I have to have a D & C?  I'm guessing yes.  Or will I have to see it myself? I honestly can't tell you what would be better.  Oh f, not more tears. I can't do this right now. Not again.