Tuesday, December 23, 2008


I've been doing well lately. Then I got AF this morning. Whatevs, right? I was pretty proud with the fact that I was dealing with it OK... compared to the breakdowns I was having the past couple months, at least.

I had a doc appt at 11:40 for my blood pressure (need new scrit). I get there right on time and wait and wait.

A little girl was there waiting with me. She was about 1.5 and all she could say was Da-Da but super loud. It was cute. She was cute. I smiled. Inside I welled up a bit though. I'm so gd selfish sometimes.

Then another couple comes in with a kid, about 6. I smiled at her, too but cried inside.

WTF? This isn't a gynie's office, what's with the kids? Oh yeah it's Dec 23 and no school. I'm such an idiot.

But it gets better.

I finally get called to see the doc. Yay, it's the one I like, the one who helped me with my shingles. While I'm waiting I look at his bulletin board with a homemade coloring that said Dr. CoolDoctor is the best. There were a bunch of photos of kids and the doc holding various newborns. I'm thinking he might be a gynie or a pediatrician. I didn't ask. I can't ask. Not just yet eh.

He comes in and we're talking and he's looking at my computerized chart and asks a question I haven't been asked in ages and didn't think I would be asked for a while: How many weeks are you?

I'm not mad, just sad. He didn't know he was basically punching me in the stomach with his question... although I swear I told them months ago to take it out of their system that I was pregnant.

I'm not, I replied. I had a missed abortion.

Oh my god, he replied, quickly. And that made me feel even worse. I'm so sorry. And I know he meant it. He's really a nice doctor.

If I was, I'd be like 28 weeks or something. Wow, huh. I think about it - specifically how far along I'd be - every so often. Everyone would know I was pg by now. Everyone. I'd be fat, but pg at least. Ha.

I'd spend Christmas Eve and Day with people doting on me, asking me how I'm feeling, how things are coming along. People would ask about the sex of the baby, names, nursery, etc. OMG it would consume my every waking moment.

But it doesn't cuz I'm not pg. I'm still not going to be a mom.

Holy fuck it's times like this when I wish I didn't insist on writing about everything and getting everything out of me. I know, in the long run, it's quite cathartic, but fuck me does it hurt right now... and it doesn't help that AF decided to visit today.

I'm OK. Just needed to get that out.


Kelli said...

It's amazing how fast reality hits, isn't it? So sorry, you didn't need that reminder. Big hugs to you.

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