The Good, the bad and the ugly

Today we had our follow-up appointment with our specialist. Let's start with the positives:

  1. I kicked my husband’s ass playing Ticket to Ride while we waited to be seen.

  2. The lobby was empty. Our normal 1- to 2-hour wait was cut down to only 15 minutes. This was the true miracle of today.

  3. We first had our 20-week scan. It's a long one where they look at all of the babies’ organs and their brains. Both babies looked great at 13 ounces and each measured almost two weeks ahead of schedule.

  4. And apparently, my cervix is “gorgeous.”

The bad news:

  1. The doctor came in to see us after the ultrasound and checked on the blood clot. The news was not good. The clot had changed. In fact, what he saw behind Baby A's placenta was all new "fresh" blood. He told me to expect bleeding, and to get to a hospital as soon as it starts.

He was open and honest and clearly discouraged. He said a lot of “this is bad” and “I'm so sorry,” shaking his head while groaning slightly under his breath. In some way, it helped me hold it together in the room because I felt I needed to console him. He was truly upset about our new development.

But once we exited the building and the gravity of our situation hit me, I lost it.

It's been a very long week. Everyone has pitched in, bringing meals, mailing gifts of books, flowers and even games to distract Lloyd. A dear friend sent me a pendant of St. Gerard, the Patron Saint of fertility, with a prayer inscribed on back. I've carried it with me everywhere. Which, because I'm on bedrest, “everywhere” is pretty much to the bathroom and back.

It's been such a comfort being surrounded by so much love. By the middle of the week, I was feeling certain that these babies were here to stay. I can’t believe that we can't have gone through all this to lose now. I even had Baby Girl's first outfit show up on my doorstep, something I purchased a few days before the bleeding began and had completely forgotten about. It was a sweet surprise. Each new arrival on my doorstep felt like confirmation that these babies were indeed arriving this summer and that we were going to be a healthy, happy family of five.

I'm good at optimism. I’ve been an actor for most of my life, so living in a delusional state of denial suits me. I went in to today's appointment feeling certain that things would have turned around and we would be back on track, living in my land of make-believe.

But it was real shock and dismay when I discovered this blood clot is trying to turn my rom-com musical in to a tragic drama.

I realize that there may come a point where we will have to give up. It’s hard to realize it's out of our control and we will have to accept whatever hand we are dealt. But those who know me know I don’t go down easily. Clearly. I'm the infertile lady who refused to give up on my dream of a family. Five IUI's, four rounds of IVF and three miscarriages. Each one has left scars, which have only mad me stronger. I thought when I finally saw those two pink lines and heard those tiny heartbeats, the fight was over.

What the fuck, universe? Seriously. What. The. Fuck.

I thought GETTING pregnant was the hard part. But now I’m questioning our every move. Maybe going for another child was too much. We have a beautiful, healthy boy who breathes life into our hearts and home. Perhaps this dream of giving him a sibling was greedy. I have plenty of friends still waiting on their first miracle, and here I am bitching about my second being complicated.

Nevertheless, this is where we stand, or rather lay, since I'm still on bedrest and I'm gonna do my best to rest the shit out of this blood clot.

I may be down, both literally and figuratively, but I'm sure as hell not out. I'm gonna fight for these kids like the mama bear I am. We have another follow-up next Friday, assuming I make it that long without bleeding. Until then, I will continue to believe in myself, my family, and our little musical, which WILL have a happy ending.