Ok. This post is going to be strange. And it’s going to demonstrate just how much the grief of my miscarriage caused me to lose my mind. Seriously.
Today has been a pretty good day. I cleaned a little house. Watched a little TV. I’ve been studying for my 3 hour certification exam I have to take Tuesday morning for work. I’m feeling a little tired, but nothing out of the ordinary. Just some major indigestion happening from my bowl of cereal this morning. All in a all a good day.
For some reason while I was cleaning house today, I decided to look at our ultrasound from our first pregnancy. I stuck it in a book when everything happened and I’m not sure that I’ve looked at it since. I’m not sure why I wanted to look at it. I wasn’t feeling sad or down or having any bad feelings about my current pregnancy. I actually feel good about it. Maybe that’s why I felt it was ok to look at it now. To take another look at the baby that could have been while I’m happily carrying it’s brother or sister. I don’t know. Maybe it’s a crazy pregnant lady hormone thing. All I know is without hesitation I opened the book and found the scan.
This is where it gets weird.
All this time, for the past 18 months, I’ve been under the impression that I miscarried at 8 weeks 1 day. That’s what I told people when it happened. That’s what I tell people now if it comes up. That’s what I’ve written in this blog. The scan that I looked at today was taken just 4 days before I started bleeding. It was done on a Monday, and the bleeding started on Friday. After taking a look at the scan today, I noticed that on the day of the scan, the baby actually measured 8w6d. …….WHAT?!
I mean, seriously, my mind is completely blown. 8w6d. That means that I was well past the 8w1d mark that I’ve been making myself sick about. And that means that I actually miscarried at 9w3d. I don’t even know what to say or think about it. I am floored. All this time I never thought that I had made it to 9 weeks before, and in all actuality, I was well into my 10th week. I don’t know why that makes such a difference to me but I just can’t wrap my mind around it.
So where did the 8w1d assumption come from?? I know I didn’t make it up. I do remember Dr. L saying those words to me. And now that I’m not torn apart with grief about it, I can logically recall what the conversation was about. I was heartbroken, in that dark doctor’s office. I was crying beyond control. Dr. L was hugging me and consoling me, and trying to explain the details to me as best he could. I know he said the words 8 weeks 1 day. I know he did. Except now I know that’s not the day I miscarried. No. That’s what the baby measured that day on the ultrasound. He measured 8 weeks 1 day, when four days earlier he had measured 8 weeks 6 days. This, coupled with the fact that there was no heartbeat, was obvious proof that I was miscarrying. That I had likely been miscarrying for a day or two now. It’s crazy, but it makes sense now.
Apparently I was so torn apart by the grief that I clung to those words, 8 weeks 1 day, and that’s what I stuck with.
So what does that have anything to do with now? Well, pretty much nothing. It changes nothing. Except for the fact that my baby fought longer that I thought he did to live, even though my body was betraying him and me. It means that my big hurdle of 8w1d has now been pushed more than a week out to 9w3d.
The moral of the story? Don’t underestimate the power of grief. It can make you lose your mind.