exsanguination

I was up.




I am now down.



Such is the rollercoaster life of a recurrent pregnancy loss survivor, I suppose. Just as I was basking in the light, the darkness swallowed me. Endless cycles of grief, of hope, of happiness and sadness, triggered by life. That’s all – nothing traumatic or horrific or overtly sad has happened. Simply life.



Or to be more specific, other people’s lives.



It seems my friends are having a baby boom. I log onto FB and am bombarded with proof that for other people, reproduction just sort of happens. I need to take a FB break, I think. It is too much. I feel marked as different, the only one of a large group of people without belly pictures and baby pictures posted to my wall. I have been contemplating letting my IF/loss rage out onto FB, but I waver. You see, I have not come out of the IF/loss closet to many of these folks. I am almost at the point where I just don’t care – this is my life, this is what I live with every day, and to present myself as someone else seems dishonest and fake, two things I despise – but I just don’t know.



It feels whiny and self centered just to say it, but I hate reading all of the messages of support posted on new parents’ walls. All of the congratulations and well wishes, they make me sick. Yes, it is someone’s happiest day. But what about me, what about all of us living in this hell? Who supports us? A new baby changes a parent’s life forever, for sure. A lost baby does the same, but at the other end of the spectrum – the sadness and despair side. And whereas other people – friends, coworkers, acquaintances - rally around the happiness, they shun the sadness and despair like it’s contagious.

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I’m now in the two week wait. The hope is draining out of me, exsanguinating my soul. Tuesday, I go in for a day 21 progesterone check and a prolactin recheck. The last time I had my day 21 progesterone tested, I was pregnant. Of course, I soon miscarried. As usual. I’m sort of on pins and needles about it for no clear reason.

Thanks for reading my whine.