I leave for the hospital in a half an hour. My body decided not to miscarry naturally, so we're going ahead with the D&C. I think I'm relieved, though I remain terrified of what's going to happen this morning.
I'm still veering madly at this point between feeling like "ok, this happened" and "oh my god, this happened." I keep looking at the ultrasound photos from my first doctor's appointment, as if for proof that there ever really was a baby, and that it ever really was alive and (literally) kicking. There was a moment in that first ultrasound when the baby did a flip, and for a split second, I could see all of it's just-formed limbs and it looked for all the world like a real, finished being. My heart swelled at the time, and I got that great feeling that, as far as I know, comes only from seeing that wonderful potential displayed. How we got from happy and flipping to dead in just a matter of days is a mystery that I guess we'll never solve.
I've also been thinking a lot of our "life plan." This is the first time in mine and the Boy's life together that things have not gone just as planned, and it's a funny feeling. I learned at a pretty young age not to count on anything too much, because I know what it's like to have a rug pulled out from under me, but still, I found myself believing that our lives, the Boy's and mine, would keep moving forward as planned.
We had decided the ideal age distance between our kids was 18-24 months. Kids close in age, we reasoned, would grow up to be good friends. The Cheeto would have been 20 months old when this baby was born; now, with all that's happened, I think she'll probably be closer to 2.5 when we have another child (a fact that I no longer take for granted). In the scheme of things, this is not a big deal. In fact, there are probably some benefits to her being older (for one thing, weaning is no longer a pressing issue). But it rankles, this delay. It means that there are other parts of my life that will continue to be on hold for far longer than I want them to be. I think part of accepting what's happening here is going to have to be letting go of those expectations, and learning again how to go with the flow.
Time to leave. Wish me luck.