I am convinced that the baby is dead (the in-utero one, that is... happy to report that the ex-utero one is alive and active). I keep telling my husband that I killed another one (that is in addition to the 10 embryos we transferred that never took and the 2 that did, but never became babies, and whatever unknown others there were while we were trying on our own). He's not a fan of the terminology. The fear is not totally unfounded. I've been spotting off and on since 6 weeks. Blood+Pregnant=Badness. Now I am cramping to beat the band. I've been doing that all along too, but it's worse now. Blood+Cramps+Pregnant=Bad Badness. All my pregnancy symptoms have vanished. And the coup de grace for my sanity: we rented a doppler and have yet to hear the tiniest hint of a heartbeat. Certainly, there are many quaint little anecdotes: "Oh my OB had a hard time finding my baby's heartbeat until 37 weeks!" But, really. Two doctors should be able to find it by now. And we can't. Because it's not there?
I have tried to convince myself that I'm ok with this. After all, if we'd had the choice, we wouldn't have chosen a 19 month spread between our kids. And the newborn period utter exhaustion scares me. But the truth is that... well, of course I'm not ok with it. Who ever is? (I don't need an answer to that, thanks.)
I am making myself insane and I am tired of it. My next OB appointment is on Tuesday. I am simultaneously relieved and terrified. I only hope I can stand myself until then.
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