Tuesday, March 13, 2012

cd3 appointment

So this happened last week but I'm just now catching up to my thoughts. I'm writing this to help me process and to remember my baby that could have been.

When Max and I got in the car to make the 20 minute drive, we were running late and I was mainly focused on my breakfast and my makeup. As we got on the interstate though, my head calmed down and I realized what we were doing. Suddenly I was overcome with a strange mix of sadness and hope. Sadness that we needed to start this process again, and hope the it will result in a baby in my arms this time.

It really was good to be back at the clinic. The receptionist is crazy perky. My first day there I was super annoyed. But that day it felt like coming home.

My emotions reached a tipping point in the ultrasound room. I sat on the table and the "life" of my child flashed through my mind. The day I had the ultrasound and we knew we were finally moving forward with an iui. We were doing something! The day I laid on the table with a death grip on Max's hand expecting to be told it was not a viable pregnancy. Instead we saw a heartbeat at 5 weeks 6 days. One more ultrasound on that exact table where I started to feel like this might happen. We talked to the np about heading home for Christmas and telling our siblings. She gave us extra pictures to leave with our families. And then the final ultrasound. What I remember most was the feeling of dread. I knew.

So as I sat on the table last Thursday, I was filled with sadness and hope. While I am so ready to move forward; so ready for a different outcome, I am still so sad about the baby we lost.

When the np came in (different one; I'm not a fan) and began to get the machine ready, I thought for a second about bolting. But suddenly Max was holding my hand and I knew he was thinking about our December visits as well. As the magic wand began to do its thing, I got lost in the memory of searching for the baby, searching for the heartbeat, the overwhelming joy and relief when we saw it. For a minute, I saw the little flicker on the screen. As I closed my eyes the np started rattling off measurements and taking pictures. And I blocked it all out and wished with all of my being that we would get to see that flicker again soon.

Only time will tell.


  1. This was a very moving post. I can't say much, except I am sending hugs and thinking of you.

  2. I'm hoping you see that flicker again very soon too. And I'm very proud of you for taking this first step. It's a hard one.

  3. I can remember feeling that same way having to go back to my RE office after my loss in Nov. It was really, really hard! At least you made it :) Cheers for a good cycle this month!!

  4. your posts are so very moving and so very well written. I just wanted to let you know all of your readers are thinking of you and I hope your miracle happens soon!

  5. This post is beautifully written. What a lovely tribute to what was and what can be.

  6. I am headning in that direction as well, closing in on our next try. I know that I have to prepare myself to see an empty uterus and suppress some of those painful memories. I think you are doing well and I really hope this cycle means a take home baby. Good luck!

  7. Hattie this is a moving post. I too remember walking into our RE's office for the first time after our miscarriage. I was so excited about it leading up to the appt but that morning I cried on the way down there, cried talking to the nurse... it's an overwhelming experience. Like you said a mixture of sadness and hope. And somehow those two emotions find a way to co-habitate in this journey that is IF.

    Sending you love as you guys move forward.

  8. Just wanted to say how beautifully written this was. I'm here hoping right along with you.