Alas, pregnancy #2 is now over. I’m sad, and I have my crying moments, but I’m alright.
The trip to the hosptial for the D&C this morning wasn’t so awful. Save for an insensitive person at patient registration, everyone was very nice. The nurses were very nice, as was the doctor. And the anesthesiologist saw to it that I have no recollection whatsoever of the actual procedure. (He told me to take five or six deep breaths, I think I only made it to three.) As with my wisdom teeth, I think I woke up from the anesthesia crying. There are worse things. Now the only thing is I’m a little crampy (they gave me some good painkillers for that) and have some light bleeding (less than a regular period). I also have a spectacular bruise from the IV – turns out I have both tough skin and small veins. And they needed to use a big-ass needle, which my husband told me about later. I was, not surprisingly, looking the other way when it went in (3rd time’s the charm).
Honestly, the hardest part is telling the people that we told about the pregnancy in the first place. Even the telling isn’t so bad – it’s the sympathy. I feel like I’m doing alright until I get a sympathetic email. That’s what gets me crying again. I’ve tried to tell people that I would honestly rather not talk about it at all after I’ve told them. I don’t want sad calls, I don’t want emails. I know they’re coming from the kindest possible place, but getting them just reminds me that I’m upset. And for now, I’d rather not be reminded. I’m not in denial, I’m not trying to pretend it’s not happening, but I’ve had my good cries. Right now I’d rather watch a funny movie and bake cookies.
As for trying again, right now I’m on six weeks of “pelvic rest.” Yes, among other things, that means no sex until almost Thanksgiving. No anniversary sex, no birthday sex. Maybe Thanksgiving. Damn, that seems far away! My poor husband…
The sex part aside, though, I can’t help but wonder how people do it – try again after getting sucker-punched like this. I mean, I was paranoid enough this time around. How on earth could I do this again?? I feel like I’d be downright nutty. Nothing but organic food cooked to at least 140 degrees, staying at least 100 feet away from the smokers at the train station, self-imposed bed rest… OK, I guess not. But seriously, how do people do it without going completely bat-shit insane? I guess I’ll find out. After all, it’s not like I have trouble getting pregnant. It’s the staying pregnant thing I apparently suck at.
Yes, inappropriate humor is how we deal with stress in our house. 
So, while my hubby and I crack jokes and enjoy our chocolate chip cookies (culinary therapy), I hope all of you pregnant ladies out there have uneventful pregnancies and happy and healthy babies. I’m sure I’ll join you, one of these days… Back in a few months, maybe.
