Losing the last pregnancy was and is the worst heartache I've ever known, and I coped by moving forward, by making plans and doing everything I needed to do before I did it all again.
This feels just as bad, worse even, because this time, there's nothing to work toward.
There's one frozen embryo, so I guess there is still a way forward, but honestly? The chance of it ever becoming a baby are a zillion times less than anything.
and then I'll go through all this again but with NO way forward when it fails too.
Which will be a safe place to be, albeit a very, very sad one.
When I'm Yoda, I know that this is ALL a good thing, that NOT having another child is still better than not having tried.
Sadness is easier to live with than regret.
This Not Being Pregnant Now thing hasn't sunk in. I'm still negotiating with the facts versus my feelings: The bleeding isn't heavy so maybe it IS implantation bleeding. I mean, maybe it is. It could be, couldn't it?
But I really can't see how, but maybe it is...
Daniel told me yesterday that he was having a baby. He told me later on that he had a baby in his tummy. Its name is Hallie, and I have no idea where he picked this up because I haven't told him THAT kind of stuff.
So it must be a sign.
We met a boy last week. I'd taken Daniel to the playroom at the hospital and he banged at the door yelling "let me in, let me in!", and once he was in, this other kid looked up at me, and with a dismissive wave of his hand said "Mummy? You can leave now!". That boy's name was Luca, which isn't a common name, and is the name I'd choose if I was ever to have another son. His mother was five months pregnant too, which is what I'd have been now, had I not lost that pregnancy.
So that had to have been a sign too.
I'm scared of how I'll feel when I KNOW it's over. I feel like there have been so many losses in my lifetime, that I can't cope with any more, not now, not on top of everything else, and at the same time I know that it isn't a hard life, this life of mine, it's simply life.
I'm angry too, because I SWEAR it was that idiot with his several thousand shopping trolleys rammed into my back that caused the last pregnancy failure.
I wonder when I'm going to stop wondering "what if?".
I'm trying not to cry because when I do, Daniel will find me then and ask me "what's the matter mum?", and I don't know what to tell him. He found me on the toilet once, trying not to sob, and he grabbed a wad of toilet tissue from the roll and dabbed at my face telling me I was "all better now". Which made me want to cry even more.