A year ago today…
- We woke early, bundled into our car by 4am, and headed out into a snowstorm.
- We drove 230 miles to Woodbury Long Island to meet with the reproductive immunologist who offered our last hope.
- I was 8 weeks pregnant with our third pregnancy. I was still pregnant, but the news had been rocky from the start.
- I saw our little one’s heart beating for the last time in Dr. B’s exam room.
- We heard the verdict of “This may work out, this may not, I do not know…” We left with a plan (lovenox, prednisone, IVF, and, possibly, PGD) should the pregnancy end (which, of course, it did the following week).
- We drove another 230 miles home, buying a wedding gift for my cousin along the way. We’d ultimately miss her wedding as I was 6.5 hours away miscarrying in my bathroom. She’s currently set to pop out her first next month (yea, that didn’t take long).
- We digested the news over a prime rib special we devoured during old people dinner time. 460 miles on the road for a 45 minute appointment that left us with more questions than answers can stir up an appetite.
- We rejoined our friends, our normal life, at our weekly Wednesday night trivia game.
- I leave in 10 minutes to drive an hour to the regional perinatology center. I will meet my new practice for the first time. I will wait in a waiting room with fellow high-riskers for the first time.
- I’m 20 weeks, 3 days pregnant with our darling son.
- Our son is kicking me as I write this.
- I’m putting the finishing touches on my list of questions for the MFM. I’m making modifications and additions based on the mock-appointment my therapist and I held last night. I’m reminding myself I have agency in this pregnancy, I have knowledge, I have power.
- I’m getting a stomach ache at the thought of starting all over with a new unknown practice.
- But, that stomach ache is eased by my insatiable appetite and little man’s jabs.
- If all goes well with the appointment, I hope to take advantage of being in the “big city” and stop off at a Hallmark to buy thank you cards to send to the amazing men and women who have ALREADY showered us with baby gifts.
- I hate that I just prefaced that with, “If all goes well.”
- Ultimately, though, today is so much better than a year ago…