Ok – tomorrow is the ultrasound. Gotta get through today. I don’t have high hopes for tomorrow. And that’s true to some extent. I’m really trying not to let myself have hope. I have failed of course, how can you not hope? Hope is a bitch sometimes. So, I at least try to keep the hope minimal. And I want to keep her hope minimal because I feel responsible for her sadness and disappointment every time this happens. And I shouldn’t and we both know it’s not my fault – but I do feel like I am failing and she wouldn’t be hurting if it weren’t for me. So, I am trying to keep her expectations low in case things go badly tomorrow – maybe the fall won’t be so hard.
I’m just driving myself crazy. Every little thing gets to me. My boobs seem a little less sore, shit. But, oh! The painfully tired existence is back, great! Oh, I feel like I am gonna hurl – that’s a good sign! But wait, what if it’s all in my head and I don’t feel that way at all? What is I’m just hoping to feel that way and by proxy, am making myself feel that way? Regardless of the outcome, there will be some relief in knowing something tomorrow.
There are certainly outcomes that would still result in uncertainty. For example, the fetus grew, but no heartbeat can still be located. That means another week of uncertainty and check again next week. And then if it didn’t grow and there’s no heartbeat, we’ll have to decide whether to wait again or have the D&C. Maybe it did grow and has a heartbeat, but the heartbeat is too slow – another week of uncertain waiting and check again next week. So, I guess there’s no magic certainty coming tomorrow, although I am hoping, hoping, hoping that we get some kind of more stable idea of what’s going on. This is completely exhausting.