Fat lady singing

My doctor sent me to have an ultrasound today once I explained the situation. The ultrasound confirmed that there is just emptiness where my baby should be.

I have had some blood tests and will have some further tests on Wednesday to check that everything has passed. I don't know how it could have since I didn't have any cramping or see any clots, but apparently my uterus is just a big empty space. Mystery to me.

My doctor is my GP. I don't have a team of fertility doctors on call for me to ask questions. My doctor is as knowledgeable about the common cold, sun spots and tinea as she is about pregnancy and miscarriage. I guess I will never have enough answers anyway so it wouldn't make much difference if she could explain it better.

So many bad thoughts have passed in the last couple of days. I have summer maternity clothes; now I don't need them; now I need a new summer wardrobe. I saw the heartbeat, Muscles was alive, but not anymore. All that morning sickness for nothing. Time wasted. Energy wasted. Love wasted.

And we are now at a 'where to from here?' point. My doctor is very proactive. In an instant she would refer me to a specialist if that was my request. So despite doctors generally waiting until the third consecutive miscarriages to react, she would act now, for me.

I don't know if that is what I want though. I know that statistically the odds are still in our favour for a successful pregnancy next time. That doesn't stop the worry and angst meanwhile. My doctor says she thinks we should try once more by ourselves. Her point is that we conceive so very easily so it is not like we would be 'wasting' a lot of time in trying again. Just 'wasting' love, dreams and hope.

I have no real idea of what the specialist tests would be. I think my next step is research. Or, maybe research while Cowboy and I practice our baby making. This time, there ain't no waiting.

Stupid, stupid, stupid

Saturday afternoon my spotting became bleeding.

'It is too much blood.' I told Cowboy when he asked if there was any hope left.

I kept bleeding through Sunday, soaking pads with bright red, thin, watery blood. Sometimes it was thick and maroon just to spice things up. Sunday afternoon I felt a stabbing pain down where my baby must have been. I took some pain killers and went to bed.

This morning Champ blessed us with a sleep in (7.45 - wohoo!). I asked Cowboy to collect him as I wanted to stand up and immediately go to the bathroom to clean up and change pads. I expected a lot more blood. But there was none.

This morning I have had no more blood. I have not passed any clots. I have not had any cramping.

Maybe it means that I will need a D&C because my body isn't clearing it on its own.

I wish I could squelch this stupid, stupid, stupid hope that is coming up every time I think of Muscles. I don't want to hope if it is only to be shattered yet again.

Empty

Another miscarriage.

The emotional pain is coming in waves.

But mostly I just feel an emptiness in my stomach.

Another (hopefully) 9 Month Long Panic Attack

The last couple of mornings I have woken to small, small, small amounts of blood as I wipe after using the bathroom. I have actually been remarkably calm about it; mostly because I realise that at this early stage nothing can be done if the worst has started. I will not rush to the emergency department, I will not expect an ultrasound, I will not expect the doctors to do anything other than confide that they can't see into the future any clearer than I can.

So, I have just picked up and gotten on with life. What else can I do?

But then when Champ is asleep or I have a moment to myself, I do allow my mind to wander.

I already love Muscles. Don't let this happen.

Champ would benefit so much from a sibling. He already asks after the baby. I want a playmate for Champ close to his age. This close. This exact time. 2 years 4 months. Perfect.

What if something is wrong with me since I delivered Champ? What if I can never again carry a baby through to a healthy, safe delivery?

I can't remember what it felt like to feel Champ move inside me. Oh my God, what if I can never carry a baby through to that stage and I can't remember what it felt like to feel a baby move inside of me? I loved the feeling. What if I never get to feel it again? Please let me feel it again.

Glowing report

We have just returned from Champ's Health Centre check up, so please excuse me while I partake of some Mummy-bragging. The health nurse was so pleased with him. She could not believe how much he is speaking, especially for a boy and the concepts he can understand.

When we first got in she was taking to him and he was just staring at her. She asked me is he knows any words yet. I was incredulous, but hid it and just replied that he does speak quite a lot but will just take a while to warm up. Although I wanted to reply 'Does he speak any words? Well only over 100 of them.'

Soon afterwards she asked him to show her his nose, and the picture of a pig on the wall. Then she asked him to sit on the chair in the room so she could test him a little. He sat down and and saw he pencils 'Colouring' he exclaimed; unused to pencils (we use crayons) he held it the wrong way; 'Upside down' he realised his mistake; 'Broken' he pointed out that the pencil needed to be sharpened. Then he drew on the paper a little with another one and then noticed some other toys on the table.

He started playing with the beads on the wire frame 'Up, down, up, down.'; 'Orange' he pointed to the orange bead (yes, Cowboy's jump-the-gun colour teaching has finally paid off). He moved to the blocks 'Block...s' (I don't know how he figured out plurals, but often uses the plural form of words with a pause before the 's'); 'nuther one' he said as he added each block to build the tower; 'Down' they all came crashing to the table; 'Again, one more time' he loves this game; One by one up they went again 'One, two, tee, pour'.

Ok kid, now you're just showing off! None the less, cue proud parents who realise that despite the tedium, the hours of play time we have poured into this kid are absolutely priceless.

The rest of the session went pretty much the same, Champ overachieving in every area. Then, she suggested that since he is quite ahead in other areas he might be ready to toilet train quite early. Drat! I had thought that his glowing report would mean I could slack off a bit and wait for the other kiddies to catch up (ok, so maybe not really).

I confessed that he does tell me before he does a poo and he can wee on demand when we ask him to in the bath. She said that with summer coming up I should let him run around with no nappy on outside so that he sees cause and effect and gets used to predicting the sensation. Ok, so that doesn't sound too hard. I have heard from other mothers that toilet training is the single hardest thing that they have done in child rearing. Running around naked though, that is a first step that I can handle.