Finally, my hCG count is negative. Apparently that means it is less than 10.

We've decided to wait until after my birthday (7/19) to try again. There are many reasons. Most of them sound stupid, except to me.

I listened to The President speak this evening. He said that he waited to make a statement about the AIG bonuses until he knew what he was talking about.

That's something we could all use to learn. Don't speak on a subject until you know what the hell you are talking about.

I think I'm in love with the man.

And now I'm going to sleep.

Going Down on Me

It's official... My hCG was 95.

That's a huge drop since last Thursday and confirms that this pregnancy is over. And, as expected, it is a huge relief.

Now I can focus on my life again and start planning for the next attempt at our Trifecta. ;)

Some how, miraculously, my body (with the help of this fine medication), did it's job.

And today, I've stopped bleeding. Is it possible? It's been 19 days. I was fairly certain it would never end.

Now I can go back to worrying about important things, like the 72 loads of laundry in my basement. Or the dirty dishes from last week. Oh, and the bills that were due yesterday.

(*Really there's about 11 loads of laundry, dishes from Sunday, and the bills aren't due until today. I'm not THAT much of a slacker ;)

Perhaps I'll even do some school work today with my kids. Right now they are running around the house (narrowly avoiding the dust bunnies and dirty laundry), still in their jammies (yes, it's after 12), yelling "Friends forever never transform!" and blowing a train whistle.

That's educational right?

A Kick In The Nuts (Alternate Title: The Toxic Avenger Lives In My Uterus)

*I'm freaking tired of talking about my miscarriage. I feel like a whiny bitch. Really, I just want to get on with my life and stop bleeding like I've been stabbed in my girly parts.

**This is going to get graphic.


***You've been warned.

I had another blood draw yesterday to check my hCG levels.

Recap, for those just joining this story:
ER 2/27: 960
3/2: 914 (gestational sac measuring 4mm.)
3/5: 619

This afternoon, the doctor's office called.

Nurse: Melissa? This is Angela from Dr. Good Guy's office. Just wanted to let you know that your levels have dropped to 849 and you just have to come in next Thursday for another blood draw.

Me: Uhhhhhhh. Last week my level was 619. So, it's gone up. Now down.

Nurse: No, I'm looking though the lab results and see that .... Oh... Uh... Hmm.... Oooookay, let me call the doctor and call you right back.

Fan-freaking-tabulous.

10 minutes later:

Nurse: Dr. Good Guy wants you to come into the office as soon as you can.

Me: I'll be there within the hour.

(Nevermind that I had to take a shower because no self respecting woman is going to go the OB/GYN with girly bits that haven't been washed in the past 12 hours. Furthermore, I have to drive all the way downtown to pick my husband up from work so he could be with the kids since the last thing a 6 year old and 4 year old need to see is their mother splayed out on an exam table with... Well, you get the picture.)

Doctor Good Guy: I just can't get rid of you can I?

Me: No, I like to be difficult!

DGG: Wow. You're bleeding.

Me: Really? I hadn't noticed.

DGG: Let's take a look. (Insert ultrasound probe (that I absolutely DID NOT play with while waiting for the doctor. Nope not me.)) See, the sac is still there. It's sitting right on top of your cervix.

Me: It looks bigger than last week.

DGG: Nah, it's probably just the magnification. It's... well, yeah, it has nearly doubled since last week.

Me: Nah nah nah boo boo! I told you!! (OK, I didn't really do that, but I said it in my head.)

(Here it gets pretty ugly. You've been warned)

DGG pulls ultrasound probe out and blood goes spraying all over me, the exam table, the carpet and the doctor.

DGG: The nurses hate when I do that.

Me: Um... sorry?

DGG: It's ok. It happens.

Me: Yeah, but not to me. You're going to get tired of seeing me, you know?

DGG: No. You're refreshingly pleasent.

Me: Under the circumstances, I'll take that as a compliment!


The plan of action is as follows: I am to take misoprostol for the next 16 hours and hope that it promotes uterine contractions and expels the thing that is currently riding my cervix like a wild bronco.

On Monday morning, I am scheduled for an ultrasound and blood work. If the ultrasound still shows parasitic life chillin' in my ute, I will be taken right over to the hospital for a D&C.

According to my mother, I am repressing my emotions and will need psychiatric care after this is all said and done.

According to me, because, you know, I am pretty aware of myself, I am doing pretty well. Annoyed as shit that my uterus and cervix continue to revolt against me. Although, I should have figured that things wouldn't go smoothing since, for me, they rarely do.

Hopefully this will be relatively easy. I have a pretty busy weekend planned, although most everything can be postponed or skipped althougher.

If not, I'll deal. Because there really isn't any other option.

Either way, me, my misoprostol and my vicodin are going to be chillin' here on the couch.

Where The Girls Live

Tonight at bed time, my son began to giggle. I asked him what was so funny and he replied that he was thinking about "all the girls that he'll be kissing!"

Apparently, after further questioning, I found that these girls live in "Girl Town" and they like him.

Oh My.

And in other news, my hCG level is steadily dropping. Finally. There was some concern that it was staying too level and that I wasn't going to be able to complete the miscarriage at home.

I have absolutely no desire to have a D&C. (Not that anyone wants to!!) But I've been out of commission long enough!

Oh, and my house has been over run by Girl Scout cookies. Pictures will follow soon.

On God

*The following blog post if full of bitterness, anger and self-deprecating humor. It may produce mental images not suitable for your mother. A rant about religion will also be contained within this post. Anyone who doesn't like it should just stop reading it. Nasty comments will be deleted whilst stabbing my troll voodoo doll.

Something has been bouncing around my head for the past few days. Ever since I received an email offering condolences in regards to my miscarriage.

First of all, how this person found out about my pregnancy still eludes me. I sure as hell didn't tell her. I have a feeling that a certain sibling of my husband's decided to notify all of the free world about my 'condition' and now she is having to remember exactly who she told so the information can be retracted.

The problem with telling our far-fetching relations is that now they each have a very vivid mental image of what is going on in my uterus. Or rather, what isn't going on in my uterus.

But I digress.

This person waxed poetic about our predicament and then enthusiastically reminded me just how much fun trying is! Cause, ya know, wooo hooo, that's on the top of my list right now.

Furthermore, she dispenced this little gem of knowledge: God must have needed my baby in heaven, and that is why "he" took "it" from me.

Hmmm. Really? God needed a sightless, limbless hunk of flesh the size of a grain of rice? Are you serious?

That sounds harsh. I understand that. I know that many, many people rejoice in the belief that their loved ones are going to a better place, to be with some higher being.

However, I am not one of those people. I do not find comfort in putting the events of my life into the hands of my religion. The explanations offered by holy books, people and religious doctrine do not alleviate the pain I feel.

I believe that my baby wouldn't have survived otherwise and my body knew this. Hence my slowly diminishing gestational sac. I know that my baby was a living thing and that for some reason, it died. I believe what is happening within my body is natural and not something that was predestined by a deity.

I may be wrong. I may come to the end of my days and find that there is a wonderful, all knowing, loving being standing on the other side of the pearly gates waiting to absolve me of all my sins.

Until then, I will rely on those thing which I can see, study and explain. It might not be for everyone, but it's what will help me sleep tonight.

I did ok until the doctor came into the room to tell me there wasn't anything I could have done to prevent it. He was so kind and understanding. Offered me drugs for the pain and such.

"It" was supposed to be the punctuation to our family. The exclamation point.

Now I just have a big question mark and a whole lot of tears.

I lost my baby.

Worked Up Feeling

I have been feeling overwhelmed and anxious the past week or so. I'm not sure why. Part of me wonders if it is the pregnancy, just my body adjusting to what is going on.

But a little part of me worries that it's that impending doom feeling.

I don't know what is going on.

But now I sit an watch our President address Congress. I think this will make me feel much better. :)

Seriously though, what the hell is Nancy Pelosi wearing? My beloved says that it's a Snuggie. I think I just peed a little in my pants.

Floaters

So I found this weird widget for counting down the pregnancy that looks like the baby is floating in a bubble.

It lets you input how many fetuses (feti?) you are expecting and then it puts them all in the bubble. I said 32, 10, 800 and 2.

Really there's just one. Well, that's what I expect. But we'll deal with that bridge when we come to it.

Right now my fetus looks like a strange adaptation of a parasite and a tumor and it keeps bouncing off the bottom of the bubble like it has just forgotten how to swim or someone accidentally dropped it.

It's oddly fascinating and slightly disturbing. And I am completely mesmerized by it right now.