It's been 8 full weeks since my miscarriage was induced. The thought and memory of it is nauseating; it's exhausting. It seems so long ago, yet like yesterday. I have not reminded my husband of this, although we discussed it last night when we were talking about BFNs and cycles. He told me that I needed to call the doctor and see what they said. He knows they said by 8 weeks, my cycle should return. So, I caved. I called the doctor. I'm 14dpo no sign of either pregnancy (trust me, I've pee'd) or a cycle. I have an appointment on Tuesday. They will do a pregnancy test, I'll be able to tell them the answer. Once they see my answer, they will do an exam or bloodwork...depending on what they find. I'm going into a Friday with still nothing. I don't even know if I'm hopeful of being pregnant right now anymore. I do know that by looking at my chart, it's beautiful. I miss the ignorance I had before my miscarriage. It truly was bliss. I didn't obsess over charting or how long my cycles were, just that they were happening.
Lots of great things are going on though. My class is great! They are so entertaining and funny. I really enjoy them! I've found a new peace about my loss and that makes my days and life so much easier. I laugh again, a genuine happy laugh. I'm not so angry or jealous. I told a co-worker who is 3 months, congratulations! I really meant it. She is so cute and her little belly is precious. I didn't even get sad that it's on her and not me. Talk about peaceful healing.
To whoever told me that time heals, they were right. (Thanks, Granny)
In closing, I heard a passage of scripture on the radio yesterday. Gal 6:9 Let us not be weary in doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we not faint. It touched me.
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