Highs and lows

Rough days. Those ones where you wonder why you even rolled out of bed. Yesterday was certainly a rough one, resulting in both Grey and I riding one hell of an emotional rollercoaster.

The groundwork for yesterday's craziness was last week. Classes have started at my institution and your's truly is teaching a brand new course aimed at younger students, resulting in many of my evenings being spent either on writing lectures, quizzes, grading and even managing course logistics. All in all, not a terrible thing, but their first exam is tomorrow, meaning everyone has been a bit stressed.

On top of this, my symptoms disappeared on Friday. The constant nausea I had been fighting for the last few weeks completely vanished and I found I wasn't as tired as I had been. Initially, though I was nervous, I was able to keep the anxiety at bay. But then I did something stupid. In a moment of weakness, I hit Dr. G.oogle and began finding stories about miscarriage and loss. The floodgates where officially open.

By Monday morning I was a wreak. Between work stress, pregnancy stress and home stress (the leak in our roof still haven't been fixed and the idiots who had caused the mess were still trying to gaslight us), it's a wonder I made it through lecture without breaking down. Somehow I managed to keep myself composed as Grey and I drove to the clinic for our ultrasound, repeating to him over and over that I knew I was being ridiculous for worrying. I'm sure I was quite a sight though.

Arriving at the clinic early gave me a chance to sit and meditate. Staring off at Mt. Rainer, I tried to clear my mind of what lay ahead, focusing instead on the exam I still needed to complete and submit that evening. As I continued with mentally writing, I hit a moment where I acknowledged that what I was doing was steeling myself. I was preparing for the ultrasound technician to do a sweep of my uterus and after a moment of silence tell Grey and I the bad news. And that somehow, we would have to walk out of that room and I would have to finish the task that laid in front of me.

So you can only imagine the crippled mess I was when none of that happened.

The ultrasound tech we had is one of my favorites. Warm, kind and a great bedside manner, she completely understood where I was coming from when I told her I no longer had symptoms. Talking me down and acknowledging that it can be scary, she proceeded with the ultrasound and quickly found our Sugar Beat. Heartbeat still very strong and measure 12.5 mm.

And then she moved the wand just slightly and immediately we all took notice. Off to the side of Sugar Beat, in what had previously been an empty second sac, was another embryo. It was hard to get a clear view, based on the angle of the camera, but immediately we saw the familiar flicker of a heart. Initially Grey thought it was simply another angle of Sugar Beat, but when the ultrasound tech brought them up side by side, showing two distinct sacs, all the questions ceased.

At that moment, all I could do was sob.

Later that night, I had an appointment with Dee. We both talked about the events of the day and the rollercoaster I had inflicted upon myself. I told Dee that I didn't know if I could handle another round of it. That after 3 yrs of infertility, loss, despair and grief, that it hurt so much to experience the mania and the depression. There's more though, too. I'm very aware of stress hormones and the effects they have developing fetuses. How flooding the body constantly has negative effects to both mother and child. And I feel that I owe it to these two to do better; to work on finding balance and not allowing things to spiral out of control.

So, last night after I finished writing the exam, I took a mental holiday. I've scheduled breaks into my day, giving me a chance to take walks and observe my surroundings. And I've made a conscious decision to start trusting this process. To believe not only in my doctors and the care they've been providing, but also these two Sugar Beats. Will I slip up? I can guarantee it. But I can't let that stop me from trying to conquer all the bad habits and stress that I've allowed to run my life for so long. Too much is riding on it.