Where to Begin?

I’ve been MIA from this blog for a number of reasons. One, nobody reads it except me. Which it is what it is. Two, I haven’t been working on losing weight. In fact, I’m up to 165. Does this frustrate me? Of course, but it’s taken a back burner to other things. Which leads me to three: this summer I suffered through an eptopic pregnancy and have been trying to recover physically and emotionally ever since.

It started at the end of May. I found out I was pregnant May 24^th. I was over the moon. We hadn’t been planning it, but I had realized that I was late and decided to POAS. (See what I did there? I’ve been reading way too many infertility blogs) It came back positive!!! I was scared, nervous, but mostly giddy with excitement. I told my parents the next day and they cried, and it was beautiful. I’m smiling even as I write this, because I was just so incredibly happy.

Thursday I started having cramps, and I just knew. I knew and my world officially started falling apart. I wiped and there was blood, and I started crying. I called the nurses’ hotline and was insistent that I have my blood drawn. I couldn’t wait to find out. I had to know what my HCG levels were and then have them tested soon after so I could just know and get it over and done with. They warned me that I may have to pay for the test myself, but I didn’t care at that point.

So I went in and by that time, the cramping and bleeding were worse. I struggled to hold back tears as they drew my blood and quickly ran out of there. Now this is where things get a little hazy, because the days sort of meld together. My best friend got married that weekend, and I was standing up in the wedding. I had ordered a dress that was way too small on me, so I had to have it emergency let out through a tailor and even then, it turned out horrendous. I remember telling Dennis about the miscarriage, and he just nodded and said okay in a very noncommittal, “I don’t want to deal with this” way. Can’t blame him. The wedding was awful. I couldn’t breathe, and I drank. I drank to numb, and it worked up until the very end when I was with my friend, Darb, and lost it. Crying. Sobbing. Just wanting the hurt to subside.

I went back in on Monday, got my blood tested, then came back to tell my parents about the miscarriage. They were devastated, and I hated doing that. I got a call from the doc, who reported a very scary fact: “Your HCG levels are actually up…but they’re not up enough. We like to see double over a three-day period, and you only went up a few hundred. You should come in for an appointment.” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? She was talking to a newbie, so was I pregnant or not pregnant? Did I just drink this weekend and screw up my baby forever? Why was I bleeding? This doesn’t make any sense.

I think that’s all I have in me for today. I hope to continue the story, but I’m not promising anything. The reason I’m writing this all out is first and foremost for my psychologist, who I just started seeing. She wants the whole story and thought it would be therapeutic for me to write it all down. It’s also downright depressing.

-E