Pack your bags! We're going on a guilt trip!
I didn’t know how I was going to deal with seeing my dead fetus on the ultrasound. Just seeing the Dr walk in and set down a brown prescription bottle brought tears to my eyes.
The Dr showed me the dark space along the side of the sac. “That’s blood. Not much though. Your body hasn’t quite caught one yet.” She measured and the little blueberry still measured 6 weeks 6 days. She said that my HCG did go up, but not nearly enough.
Tonight I will take a dose of misoprostol which will cause the miscarriage to finally start early tomorrow. Or, at least that’s the plan. I came home in shock, dropping Mr off to make a conference call and took off to Target to pick up my pain meds and a giant twix bar. At some point I as I watched Monkey pick out his reward toy for being the good fetus, the one that grew a liver and a heart and kidneys and climbed out of my womb no problem, a huge weight suddenly lifted.
The dead fetus inside me, was about the be gone. I was about to get closure. After this weekend, this horrible weekend, I will finally be able to move forward.
Now I feel guilty for feeling relieved.
Monkey, dear Monkey. I am so grateful he is making you feel some love. His is a special kind of love that no one else can offer. In my miscarriage sometimes I felt like Toddlerina showered that kind of love and other times I looked at her and wanted to break into pieces for the want of more of that love. Hard to explain. Not her fault, mine, but still a fucking heart breaker. Wishing this physical part get past you quickly...
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