Hanging in

Thank you for all your amazing support in the last week. I say this all the time but your support is seriously the guiding light in my life. You and DH. Complete lifesavers.

We had our NHS scan on Wednesday last week, I was 6w4d. It was really freaking hard to go there. That clinic is hell on earth. It’s the early pregnancy unit for a recurrent miscarriage clinic. Yeah, imagine what it must be like to work there. Last time I had a scan there I was the fourth person in a string of no-more-heartbeats. Rarely is there ever good news in that place. Sobs echo in the waiting room on a regular basis as we all sit quietly freaking out, wondering if we’ll pull the short straw this time. The woman before me pulled it this time, it was awful.

I had convinced myself that I would too. I had convinced myself I had no more symptoms and that after four days Nacho’s heart must have stopped beating. I had totally psyched myself into expecting to be let down and even told DH not to be too positive. But in his typical way he tried his hardest to build me back up.

I couldn’t look at the screen. Too scared. Instead I was fixated on DH’s face who despite his usual zen-like facade was evidently very concerned as the sonographer struggled to find Nacho. We were pleasantly surprised though that he/she was in fact still there and was still measuring right on time. More sobs, hugs and high-fives. Something tells me that will never change. I hope it never does.

Since then I’ve been lingering in the inbetween. Melting down one minute, content the next. Because I don’t get morning sickness ever I freak out if I go ten minutes without any of my usual symptoms. That happens a lot. A downward spiral of doubt and despair until suddenly I’ll get a twinge to remind me that everything might actually unbelievably be ok in there for once.

I’m trying. I really am. I’m listening to my hypnotherapy tapes, meditating, going to therapy, acupuncture, resting. But it’s hard. It’s so hard to keep the faith. I’m so worn into the pattern of grief and loss that I find it so hard to let things be … positive. Things are never positive for me. How can this be going well?

Thankfully those horrid cramps have stopped. I was assured by the EPU that they were definitely obgyn related and not gastrointestinal. That it’s probably just my womb adjusting, relocating, making space. I hope they’re right.

Now we wait some more. On Saturday we’ve got The 8 Week Scan. I can feel my anxiety ramping up for it and I’m sure I’ll be the same as every other time: heart in my throat, talking myself into believing the worst. But I’ll try really hard not to. I’m trying really hard to remember this one is different.