Now What?

No news is good news.

Or maybe no news is just plain torture?

Still staining, off and on, but no red blood.

Breast tenderness, on rare occasion, and cramps increasing, and then going away, and then increasing, and then going away.

This morning I woke up feeling like someone is pressing their thumb into my stomach - a sign I usually associate with pregnancy.

I'm afraid to get my hopes up.

I'm afraid to go get my HCG levels checked, afraid I'll miscarry while awaiting test results – as if the gods like a cruel joke and are just waiting to sting me with hard reality.

I go through the day, coping. And then I get a call from a friend telling me how deeply she loves me, that she supports me and however I'm handling what I'm going through, that she'd do anything to help, make me lunch, clean my bathroom, call in others to support me too, accompany me to the doctor... and I am awash in tears. Why do I assume I must go through this alone?

Revisiting LimboLand

I'm not sure where to begin. On the surface, there isn't much to report. I haven't truly begun to bleed, though there has been staining on and off. Early on, I passed a smear of clear slime with a thread of red in it. I assume this is an early version of the mucus plug which seals the cervix shut during pregnancy. I've seen it every time about a week before I miscarry.

For several days I felt occasional waves of cramps with no real pattern except that they seemed to be getting more intense and, strangely, less frequent. Those cramps were different from what I usually experience, broadly abdominal rather than strictly uterine. I haven't had any nausea or breast tenderness (except right now, I must admit, my breasts are sore). I suppose I could find hope in this but it is canceled by a steady-droning, increasingly intense uterine ache. This is very familiar. I would be surprised if I'm not bleeding by the end of the day.

I have been reluctant to talk about all this. The time between the demise of a pregnancy and an actual miscarriage is fraught with conflicting symptoms. I don't want to fend off hopefuls who insist I shouldn't give up. I appreciate the sentiment, and assure you, I'm doing nothing to prevent a pregnancy from succeeding. It's just that I know this terrain so well, and I recall the torture I felt in the past, clinging desperately to decreasing hope.

Of course I imagine myself looking back at this eight months from now with a baby in my arms. How could I not? But when that thought comes through, I do not cling. I acknowledge it for what it is, and appreciate its sweetness. And move forward into the next moment of waiting.

Breaking News

Staining this morning, pregnancy symptoms mostly gone, a touch of cramps...

Yeah, I think it's over.

On top of that, I'm fighting a  cold - headache, sore throat...

And it's rainy and chilly today. And I promised my neighbor, out of town for the day, that I'd walk her dog along with my own this morning.

Yuck.

In Pursuit of "Normal"

Here's the thing: I am an expert on miscarriage, on the signs and symptoms — at least my signs and symptoms — of a miscarriage on the way. But I have no idea what is "normal." I put that word in quotes because I know there's no such thing, no single definition. Every woman has her own story, sometimes multiple stories, as each pregnancy comes with its own parameters.

So what should I think when I'm nauseous, off and on, for two days, and then a day goes by with no more than a tinge of heartburn? Is that cause for alarm? Or is that normal?

One thing I know is that it's heartbreaking to cling to fading symptoms. I must move forward with the day, the week, life. Breathe breathe breathe.

Mother's Day

Today I gave myself a Mother's Day gift: I got straight of bed this morning and unwrapped the last home pregnancy test I had in the box. The idea was to reassure myself. A week after my first test, I imagined this one should have a very strong test line, maybe even as dark as the control line. But then again, who knows how much chemical is on the strip, there could be a limit to how dark that line can get. This is what I told myself as I awaited my results. I didn't want to be too disappointed.

Here's what I didn't expect: the test line might actually turn out to be darker and thicker than the control.

It was most definitely darker and thicker than the control line. I brought the test back to bed and J~ and I admired it together.

Here's another thing I didn't expect: that within minutes I might be so queasy I'd need crackers and a gulp of water - twice - to settle my stomach. Had a similar bout of nausea yesterday, after an hour of yoga.

Yes folks, it's really happening. I'm pregnant yet again, and this time, despite my darker days earlier in the week, my hopes are very very up.

Another Roll of the Dice

On the bright side: I did get a high BBT yesterday, the day following my low one. (For those of you who don't know - the subtleties of a woman's temperature reading upon first waking in the morning can indicate where she is in her menstrual cycle. A higher temperature means hormones are shifting towards supporting a pregnancy. Lower readings mean hormones have shifted toward supporting menstruation. But it's not an exact science, and you're right, Emily, I'm stopping. In fact, I've stopped.

And I refuse to run to the doctor for blood tests to see if my pregnancy hormones are doubling as they should be. Nor will I run for an ultrasound the minute I'm pregnant enough (assuming I do become pregnant enough) to see a heartbeat. I've been down that road before and found temporary reassurance, only to be utterly devastated a few days or weeks later.

Instead, I will distract myself when I can, call upon support from friends and family when I can't, and move forward through my days trying to straddle two possible futures. I said to J~ last night, We did it again, we created a life. Who knows how long it will last, but we did that and it's amazing in and of itself. I will try to be grateful that I've been given another chance.

And yes, MC, I am taking the baby aspirin this time.

As always, I will keep you posted!

That Dark Place

I had two days of optimism. The nausea helped. But then the nausea was less and I went to that dark place, where miracle happy endings simply do not happen, where every pregnancy ends badly.

I told a friend my news and my fears and she countered with a story of another friend, who gave up trying after every conceivable intervention failed, miscarriage after miscarriage, deciding she just wasn't meant to have children. And then, at 40, had a first, and two years later, a second healthy daughter.

I broke into tears hearing that, realizing it might just be okay to retain a modicum of hope.

This morning I checked my basal body temperature, and found myself just .05 higher than I usually am before my monthly period. This is not good news. I am back to the dark place.

My dog is bringing me her toy, insisting that I play with her. Life, apparently, goes on.