Three Strikes...I'm out

Does anyone else watch "Phineas & Ferb" on the Disney channel?  It is our favorite cartoon in this house and I think we've seen every episode.  The other day, there was an episode where an embarrassing video of the evil Dr. Doofenschmirtz was circulating on the internet.  So, he built a device that would remove whatever he wanted from every computer in the Tri-State area, as well as erase it from everyone's memory.  The Erasonator, I believe he called it.  I sure could use one of those right now to erase my stupid Facebook post and the 36 wonderful comments that followed.

Yesterday, I got results from the blood that was taken last Thursday at my PCP's office.  They didn't run an HCG test, but my progesterone level was 11.8, very low.  This didn't tell us any more than we already knew.  I was still hoping that we were looking at a very early pregnancy.  I woke up this morning, eagerly awaiting results from Tuesday's blood tests that should be in today.  And...found that I was bleeding.  Not spotting...bleeding.  

I called my doctor's office and the results weren't back yet.  The doctor said that, "The darn lab forgot to run the HCG test," but that they had ordered it this morning and should have results back in an hour.   If it only takes an hour to run the test, why does it take 48 hours to get the frickin' results back?  ANYway...

The nurse called a couple of hours ago and they found that my HCG level was 6, which she said shows that I had a "chemical pregnancy."  This means, she said, that the egg was fertilized, but didn't implant.  Chemical pregnancy is the term they use for a miscarriage that occurs before the fifth week of gestation, before a sac can be seen on an ultrasound.  

The doc said that since I have now had three miscarriages, she still wants me to see a perinatologist to see if they can find the cause.  

Frankly, Roy and I are tired of all this.  The past few days have reminded us why we haven't tried since the last incident.  It has been HELL.  The waiting sucks.  Life has to go on like nothing has happened, while we are sitting around wondering what the fuck is going on.  Are we pregnant, or aren't we?  I've been emotional and moody and taken it out on my poor little family.

It kills me that when I take my daughter to the playground, she looks around desperately for another kid to play with.  When they leave, she whines, "Now who is going to play with me?"  She refers to her friend Lydia as her sister, and her friend Ethan as her brother (although sometimes they get married).  It hurts to see her fawning over babies and knowing how badly she wants one in our house.  I hate to think about her lonely middle school years when she will wish there was another kid in the next room that she could whisper to at night.  I want her to have the built-in playdate and confidant that I had growing up.  I want her to have a best friend that shares the same blood on speed dial when she is grown up, so that she can tell them everything that she can't tell her mother.  I want them to be able to talk about me behind my back and plan Mother's Day surprises for me.  I don't want to cling to her so much that I suffocate her because I don't have two children to spread the love around to, because I am totally the mom that would do that.  I don't want to burden her solely with our care when we are old and decrepit.  Roy swears that being an only child was fine with him, but I know how much I love having a sister and I just wanted that for my kid, too.

Roy says he's done.  I want to be done, but it feels a little selfish to just give up.  I hate my life being in limbo.  I wanted to decorate a nursery.  Now, I feel like turning that room into a huge, kick-ass closet for my purses.  We'll just go on with our life, spoil our daughter, grow our photography business and never think about another kid again.  I'm half-tempted to have a hysterectomy.   

The doctor's nurse just called to say that the doc wants me to have another HCG test in a week.  I said, "Why?"  

She paused and said, "Well, to make sure it goes back down to zero."  

I said, "What's the point?  I'm not going to be trying again anytime soon, so I'd rather not be a pin cushion if I don't have to."  

She stammered and she said she'd ask the doctor and call me back.  Roy laughed.

Roy has a whole stand-up routine that he's going through now called "Mitigating the Unhappy Times with Crude Humor".  He joked that the publishers of "What To Expect When You're Expecting" should sell the book in trimesters because then we would only the need the first part.   He's going to write a book called "What To Expect When You're Expecting...To Not Be Expecting" (copyright 2009).  He also says he is going to hop the fence and kick the neighbor's dog.  

I'm having cramps and back pain, but I need to go buy myself something pretty or maybe something that barks or purrs.   "Anna, Here's a puppy since we can't give you a sibling.  At least it won't steal your boyfriend."  Also, I want to use the word FUCK....a lot.