Choices.October 22, 2012 at 6:46 pm | Posted in Heartbreak | 26 Comments
(I am having a really hard time writing this post, for so many reasons. Please bear with me.)
The past week, the waiting for The End, has been awful. Charlie Brown is home this week – until Saturday morning. And then he’s away for the weekend, and then back on a plane to Ohio next week.
It’s causing me undue stress; the worry that I won’t miscarry naturally and will need a D&C on a week he’s not here.
Or that something will go wrong if I DO miscarry naturally and I have to go to the hospital while Charlie is gone, and what would I do with Lucky if that were to happen?
Or I will miscarry naturally and not get it all, and still have to have a D&C at the end of the day.
And honestly, this waiting is undoing me. Physically, I am still pregnant. My body BELIEVES I’m pregnant. I am nauseated most of the day and my boobs are still huge and sore. Right now I absolutely loathe looking at myself in a mirror. Because I look like I am early into a pregnancy. And where last week it made me happy, this week it makes me want to scream.
Emotionally, I’m a wreck. I feel pregnancy symptoms, and I have hope. Maybe the little embryo is defying all odds, the slow heartbeat AND no meds, right? – and will turn into a real baby. And then I remember the statistics, how there was no yolk sac, and the gestational sac was irregular, and that 71% of pregnancies with slow heartbeats between 6 and 7 weeks end up terminating prior to the end of the first trimester. And then I get mad for hoping, and I grieve all over again, because it’s just all so cruel.
I need to have this over. If this pregnancy isn’t going to end with a live baby, I need it to be over now. I need to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart and start to put things back together.
So I called my clinic this morning, and I asked if it was possible to schedule a D&C on Friday so that I knew if nothing happened before then I wouldn’t have to worry about next week.
They called me back a few minutes ago. They can’t have me in on Friday; the surgeon is booked through 6pm. But they had an opening on Wednesday, which they booked me for.
And tomorrow I go in to confirm no heartbeat via ultrasound.
Here’s the thing: Every choice I have, right now, is awful.
Wait, and bleed on my own, whenever my body decides to figure it out and let go of this pregnancy. And go on with my life as if nothing was happening, as if it was just an everyday, normal occurrence, to pass an embryo that I once thought of as a baby.
Or to end this pregnancy medically with a procedure, clinically. To have them scrape what I thought of as my baby out of me.
I am aware that I live in a time where I am lucky to have the choice for a D&C. In the past week, I’ve thought a LOT about the politicians who are trying to create “personhood” laws, where they say that if there’s a heartbeat, there’s a person.
Because. My baby had a heartbeat last week, and I still made the choice to stop my medications. And today, I made the choice to go in on Wednesday and have a D&C.
It goes without saying that I hate these choices. If I really had a choice in the matter, I’d have chosen a VIABLE pregnancy, one that turned into a live baby at the end.
Instead, my choices are limited.
I don’t want a D&C. I don’t want to have a dead embryo in my uterus. I don’t want to miscarry. I don’t want to be where I am today, grieving over lost hope.
But, you know, I have a choice. It’s more than a lot of women had before Roe vs. Wade. It’s more than I’d have if the religious right agenda had the kind of power they wanted and got to declare any bunch of cells a “person.”
So today, I am thankful for that choice.
Even if it means that choice is breaking my heart.