Hoping for a miracle

The past two days have been such a blur, and not a happy blur at that. After the last doctor’s appointment I have been feeling grief in all its forms, even though nothing has been 100% confirmed yet. In my head, it has felt like it is all over and I am just now waiting  for the confirmation next Wednesday.

The main feeling I have been having is fatigue. I’ve got no energy and no interest in doing anything at all. I did go to work the past few days, partly because it was good to have something to do and partly because I’m one of the senior people at work and other colleagues were on leave – had I not turned up we would have been in a little pickle!

Hubby has been brilliant and has not forced me to do anything, although he did encourage me to get out of bed when he found me back in there at 7.30pm last night. We have skipped two nights of family-related activities even though everyone is gathering for the wedding today. I’m not sure how he managed that, but I could not love him more for it.

He has also been the positive one out of us both. He even said to me on Thursday night that he is still hopeful because there is a heartbeat. I’m glad he’s in charge of positivity because I struggle to find the same enthusiasm. I have been looking at my soft, hormone-laden body the past couple of days and started to hate it. I can just about bear the changes these hormones do to me when I think there is a viable pregnancy, but I start to loath myself when I know my body is not nourishing a baby.

But then last night something weird happened and I started to search online for other cases like ours of slow fetal growth. Now, I’m going to be honest… most of the anecdotal evidence I found was not great. Most people who had slow-growing foetuses did not have viable pregnancies.  But most of those did not have a fetal heartbeat at their scan. If you look at my measurements – size of 2.5mm and heart rate of 80 ppm – this is perfectly normal for 5/5.5 weeks pregnant.  The only problem is that when I was measured I was 7 weeks pregnant, meaning the baby is 10 days behind in development.

Is it possible that I just have a really slow growing baby? I mean that’s not massively cheering either but maybe it’s just a slow starter and will catch up later? Remember my first HCG test was just 80 and then it went up to 511 four days later. They do say that FET implant later/slower than “spontaneous pregnancies” (what a description for people who have sex like normal couples and get pregnant. Oh the luxury of those people!)

The truth is that the most likely outcome is not going to be good for me, but for now (as far as I know) the heart is still beating and I am still pregnant. So I guess I have to keep hoping for a miracle, even if it’s unlikely.

I am envious of people who can fall pregnant naturally and then from the time they get their positive pregnancy test they can be excited and carefree. I know so many people who have conceived on the very first time they have tried or have had an accidental conception. They have gone on to have complication-free pregnancies and natural births with no pain medication. Why does it have to be so hard for us then? What have we done to deserve this fate?  I really feel like I’m unusually unlucky sometimes, or at least the controllers of fate have not spread their gifts evenly.

Somehow today I have to gather the enthusiasm to seem normal in front of hundreds of people at the wedding. I’ve made a last minute fashion-change to wear a dress I’ve had for years, rather than the one I had planned to wear. This is partially down to weather (it’s a bit cooler than expected and the first choice dress is quite summery) and partly because the first choice dress has a belt and I think it might be really uncomfortable to wear. I put it on for 5 minutes last night and instantly wanted to rip it off.

The other dress I have is tailored but is pulled in at the waist in a way that is not belted (yay) and can semi-hide my bloat belly. At least I will be able to suck it in for photos and get away with it (I think). Now all I have to do is find a way to smile like I mean it and not burst into tears if anyone dares to ask me about our plans for children.