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Miscarriage: Products of Conceptions

Avocado split in half, one with happy face, one with sad face drown on

April 28, 2017 Back to the OBGYNs office. She says it looks like everything has passed (no retained products of conception) and she will continue to monitor my hCG until it goes down to zero. That means weekly visits to her office for a pin prick. She says she needs to see me until my hCG drops below five.

I'm still bleeding and still a little crampy.

I finally get that HPV shot. The shot that rocked my world! It hurt like the dickens, not the shot, but the shot site. OUCH!! I don’t mention the birth control and neither does the doctor. I figure if birth control is 99% effective, I’m pretty good with only a 1% chance of pregnancy, right??

My heart is a little broken knowing my baby is all gone. The logical side of me knows that it wasn't a "real" baby yet. I was only 10 weeks, so medically it was still an embryo. One more week (and a heartbeat) and it would have become a fetus. It's crazy how that little embryo came and ran away with my heart. Yes, medically, I understand that after a miscarriage if I have no retained products of conception, I'm healing well. But emotionally, my baby will never be born and that hurts. My angel baby is in heaven and I have to figure out how to process this all emotionally. I think this is a good time to get a new therapist (my current therapist is in Brooklyn and I only go once a month). I find one in Manhattan and she can see me weekly. I want to get my life together and deal with EVERYTHING that I have been too "busy" to face. Things like my fear of marriage, commitment and not expressing my feelings. I see myself so clearly now and I want to change what I see. Not all of it. I like myself. I want to learn to LOVE myself.

Went to dinner with FOB and friends. One of our friends was celebrating his birthday. He suffered a heart attack earlier this year, so it was nice to celebrate his birthday. It took my mind off of things for a bit. We all went over to his girls place afterward. I drew a picture of a butterfly. It felt like a good marker for transformation.

FOB slept over (at my apartment) that night. I had to break the news to him that my naughty bits were off limits for another week. It was nice to be desired, though. We got in some good quality cuddling, which was really, really, really nice.

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