Last night, I spoke with my mother on the phone.
I asked her her opinion on my options, how each one would tear me apart and I didn’t know what to do.
Her suggestion was: D&C
It would kill me a little inside, but I would be able to move on much quicker.
I respect that logic, and considered it.
After Eric got home, I talked with him.
Unless something is going on in there: Wait it out.
He again said that it is ultimately my decision, saying “Just wait. If that’s what you want.”His diplomacy is difficult sometimes.
That night, as always, Eric stayed up playing his video game after I had gone to bed. I tried to make it clear that I would like to have him in bed with me if only until I fall asleep.
He didn’t get it.
He seems to think that my wanting to have him with me during times like this, after being alone all day long, means that I have a problem with him playing his games.
We fought. I thoroughly explained how I don’t like being left alone all day to sob and cry and worry only to have him come home and ignore me.
I need him. I know this isn’t as painful or upsetting to him as it is to me but the fact that it’s killing me is exactly why he should be there.
If only for a little while. Just until I fall asleep.
After I ranted about needing him, he held me for a long while as I tried to stop the heaving sobs and the panic attack.
He agreed to come lay down with me. He even made me a hot cocoa. We cuddled and I felt much better.
Men seem to think that, once things have been logically spoken about and sorted out, that everything is done. Because there’s nothing more to be done about it, there’s no need to worry.
I suppose there’s a solid reasoning in there, but nothing about this is reasonable. I don’t need to talk it out with him anymore. We’ve done that most days for the past month. I need him to be there because life is hard and no matter where I get my support elsewhere during the day, it’s important that the one person who is really 100% in this with me be there at night to hold me when I try to fall asleep and can’t because all the thoughts I’ve avoided and rationalized during the day are bombarding me the moment I get to my quiet place.
Eric is my happy place.
That sounds needy and codependent.
But what woman doesn’t want to be with the one she loves most during times of turmoil.
I want to be with the man who has consistently worked, if only after some prompting, to make me happy and make me feel safe.
I still spent a lot of time debating and reading.
I struggled with the pros and cons.
If I get a D&C:
I can move on much faster.
I don’t have to wait for things to happen on their own at a possibly difficult and inopportune time.
But there may always be a sense of “I killed my baby.” No matter how inviable the pregnancy was.
If I wait it out:
I get closure. I know that this is what my body is supposed to do.
I don’t have to worry about the risks of surgery. General anesthesia makes me nervous.
I may start miscarrying when I am home alone. Stuck suffering by myself, scared.
If things don’t come out entirely, I could bleed for weeks, only to end up with a D&C afterall.
As much as I can’t cope with the thought of waking up one morning and finding what was supposed to be my baby scrawled in pink in my toilet bowl, I cannot handle the idea of someone else MAKING me miscarry. This is something that should be done on my and my babies terms.
Pending something disastrous, my intention is to wait.
Maybe I’ll even have the courage to try those herbs and teas I’ve spoken about.
With any luck this will be over soon.
I can only stay like this for so long.