Sigh. Back to the miscarriage obsessing. Sorry. But one side effect of this whole thing that I certainly didn't expect is my tendency to burst into tears for no apparent reason (more often than I usually do, I mean). Basically, anything even vaguely baby-related seems to be a trigger. I kid you not -- I'm abusing the TV again and the Cheeto and I are watching "Growing Up Moose" on Animal Planet. The sight of the baby mooses (meese?) frolicking made me cry. Yeesh.
I'm also becoming obsessed with the whole "why" aspect of this thing. The doctors have been relatively blase about my miscarriage -- they say that we'll probably never know what happened, but they're chalking it up to chromosomal abnormalities in the babies. Apparently, I am not to worry unless and until it happens again. For a little while, I accepted this, especially since both babies died. It stands to reason that if one had issues, so would the other, right?
Well, no, actually. My teensy bit of biology training has kicked in, and I started thinking about things and the abnormality theory no longer makes sense. See, these babies were not identical twins. That means they came from two separate eggs and two separate sperm, and for them both to have suffered from some kind of abnormalities that would preclude survival would have to mean I had two rotten eggs, or that two different sperm were trouble. This doesn't seem likely to me.
So I don't know what to think. I'll be quizzing my doctors about this again next week, but if truth be told, they don't seem to want to know what happened. It seems like they'd rather wait until it happens again to care to look for a cause. But sorry, that's not good enough. I will not go through this again if there's any way I can stop it. And if that means I search for information and bug them with questions, then so be it.