I’m sorry I haven’t updated this blog.  It has been such a mix of days – we alternately feel tremendously blessed with the outpouring of support from friends – some of whom we didn’t even know – and then, from sometimes nowhere, a wave of grief when all of the kind thoughts and gestures in the world can’t bring back what is lost:  our baby.

Someday, I will update this with the incredible blessings we’ve found in the midst of our very darkest days as a married couple (and perhaps as individuals, too – I know for me, it’s certainly the worst thing I’ve ever experienced).  For now, it’s a little bit too painful, so I am going to just write about what has happened today.  In the last 12 hours.  That’s good enough, right?  12 hours?

In the midst of the last 4 days, I kept bleeding, and cramping, and required narcotics to keep breathing.  Friends brought food, and sent food, and dropped by, and we even laughed a bit, when we were able to talk about the random funny things that come up, and STILL I was bleeding.  Today, it finally culminated in agonizing cramps – in regular intervals, like labor contractions – and excessive blood loss.  We ended up back in Labor & Delivery once again tonight.

Do you want the good news or the bad news?

The good news – you always share the good news first, right? – is that the bleeding did its last hurrah when I walked in the door – I had a cramp/contraction as we were in OB admitting, almost fainted/puked/whatever you do when you’re in insane pain, and then lost yet another HUGE amount of blood – and then, quiet.  Nothing.

No bleeding.

No cramping.

And I was sitting in L&D trying to justify it all.

Well, it seemed that my body did something right, and it passed what it was supposed to pass on its very very own.

Taking a whole ton of blood with it.  Causing me a ton of pain in the process.

The good news?  It stopped on its own, apparently the moment I gave my first history to the L&D nurse.

Which meant I didn’t have to have a second D&C.

Which, frankly, is the best news we’ve gotten in about 4 days.

The bad news?

My crit (hematocrit) dropped from 37 (at its high, from two years of work eating hamburgers constantly, having an IUD to stop menstrual flow, and getting pregnant one cycle after the IUD) on Thursday, pre-D&C #1, to 26 today, in the space of THREE DAYS.

Two years of work.  Spent in THREE days.

Yes, I did burst into tears in the triage room while they tried to figure out what to do with me.

So we take it an hour at a time.  My mom stayed tonight, because I was writhing in pain and paging the doctor every hour and man, it was scary.  (Also?  Someday I will write a post about assholic doctors.  I have had the tremendous blessing of having amazing doctors and truly, truly, truly horrific doctors during this entire ordeal.)

(The good ones become oh, so, good once you get a little taste of the bad ones.)

(I let the bad one HAVE IT.  Both on the phone and when I met him in person, and he apologized at least 5 times.)

We’re having taco night tonight.  Yeah, meat.  Woo.

An hour at a time.  A day at a time.  And every so often, when I realize that I am no longer carrying a child – that our baby died, and we could not stop it – that maybe there was something we could do, and we did not do it – I sob.

And sob.

It’s been a really, really, really hard week.

Thank you for your continued prayers.

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