The Answer

I wish I knew how to get an answer to the question: "When will we have a baby?"

I'm not above buying a cheezy Magic 8 ball if someone tells me that it will do the trick. I'm completely ready to see a psychic, have my tarot cards read, get my star chart completed, anything.

The uncertainty is killing me. I just long for someone (or something) to tell me, "You will have a boy in October 2008. You will adopt him." Or any type of information like that. I guess I don't even really need to know the method by which we'll attain this new family member, but it would be helpful so I can stop futiley* barking up the wrong trees.

More immediately, I wish I knew the answer to what's going to happen at Wednesday's scan. I genuinely hope it isn't like the last miscarriage where it dragged on for weeks...

Scan #1: "Sorry, everything is too small and too slow, it's not going to make it. Come back for another scan in 5 days."

Scan #2, 5 days later: "Wait! There's a heartbeat! But, sorry, it's too slow. Probably not going to make it. Come back for another scan in 5 days."

Scan #3, 5 days later: "Hmmm, there's still a heartbeat, but it's still too slow and now it's irregular. Come back for another scan in 5 days."

Scan #4, 5 days later: "Sorry, the heartbeat is gone. When would you like to schedule the D&C?"

I had the sense all along during that pregnancy that it was doomed. However, that didn't make the reality of the excruciating waiting any easier to take.

I had very high hopes for this pregnancy, I really, really thought this was The One. It's looking pretty dismal, but I promise you that I'm not giving up hope yet. I'm too cried-out to cry anymore, so now I'm just sort of numb, waiting for Wednesday's news.

I can't thank you guys enough for the outpouring of support. So, so many of you have emailed me separately to offer wonderful things: food, chocolate, hugs, a visit, etc. I truly do feel loved and I have you to thank for it.

I apologize for not responding to any of those emails yet, I will. It's just that right now I've got nothing useful to say so it's best not to be said.

Sort of like when my boss (you remember her -- the 40 year old with high FSH who got pregnant from her first IUI) went ON and ON and ON and ON a few weeks ago about how great and amazing it was to see the heartbeat on the screen, blinking away so fast and so strong. I should have just nodded and walked away, but instead I muttered something about how the last two times I went to the doctor to see a heartbeat, all I saw was a dead baby. See, that's not very useful, so it's best left unsaid.

I know that I'm supposed to trust in God that He has a plan and that I am exactly where I am meant to be. But, and I hate to say this for fear of Him smiting me any further, but I think His plan SUCKS. Why does it have to include so much pain, so much misery, so much anxiety, so much bitterness, so much disappointment, so much self-loathing, so much heartbreak?

I have literally half a dozen other posts rattling around in my head, so I'll try to get them out soon since they all require input from you wonderful creatures in the IF blogsphere. Thank you a thousand times over for reading, listening, understanding and supporting.

* "Futiley" is a stupid sounding word, so I looked it up. It does exist, and this is actually how it's spelled. I've learned something new today, perhaps I should go home and call it a day.