What a week. Waiting, waiting and more waiting. I may be miscarrying or I may be very early in pregnancy, but each day makes it more likely that I’m miscarrying. And given my own time line of events, either scenario is entirely possible. We won’t know anything until my blood test comes back tomorrow, and says whether my BHcG levels have risen or fallen since Sunday.

Between Sunday and today, I’ve given quite a lot of blood, and I’ve the bruises on both arms to prove it. I’ve learned that I don’t care anymore whether or not I go see a male ob/gyn. I’ve learned that my blood type is 0 negative (meaning I’m a universal donor), and which also means I had to get a shot of RhoGam while in the ER on Sunday night. I’ve been poked and prodded, and still don’t have answers, which is entirely confusing and frustrating.

I don’t even know what to feel at this point. I want to be hopeful, but this is sort of like setting myself up for a major crash. So I feel guilty for this. I’m angry and sad about miscarrying, but I don’t know for sure if this is the case yet either. So I feel guilty for this.

Right now I’m feeling rather like my life is one big cosmic joke. And I’m riproaring angry at God. We’ll probably work it out, but right now I’m having a hard time with faith. And having a really hard time with even statements like God is good. And I feel guilty for this. J and I have been waiting a long time to be pregnant, and it’s just so upsetting to have it quickly snatched away.

I feel like I’m going to explode.


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