And then the DNC. My doctor gave me the choice between waiting for the pregnancy that didn't happen to miscarry itself, or to have a DNC. Rather than wait around until some potentially inconvenient time, I decided to go ahead and have the DNC.
And can I tell you, it is nasty. Not fun at all. It really made me feel badly for the people who really, really want a child and then not only do they find out that they aren't having it, but they also have to go through this thing. And also for the people who get an abortion but maybe aren't a hundred percent sure of their decision (who ever is in life?) and then have this very unpleasant and kind of painful procedure to help them feel even worse. I was probably as ambivalent as anyone who lost a pregnancy ever is and still it was a bummer.
But then the silver lining. They gave me several valiums! Mike had taken the day off from work, so he and the kids picked me up at the doctor's office in the morning, dropped me off at home and went off to the science museum. I had about four Diet Cokes (a VERY nice combination with valium) and actually got to be alone in my house for four hours, for the first time in years. And in a weird way, cleaning and rearranging the house, it was one of the best mornings I'd had in a long time.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Friday, December 16, 2005
Our Brush With Three
Right before Thanksgiving we found out that we were pregnant with our third child. This was an accident in the first degree. In fact, it was so much of an accident that we couldn't even pinpoint how far along I was. That would mean that we were actually paying attention to when I'd gotten my last period, and as silly as this sounds, we've been a little too busy with school and stuff for me to be thinking about that....
We didn't find out under the best circumstances. It was the day after we found out that Miles' persistent fever and smoker's cough - that had prevented any of us from sleeping all week - was caused by pnemonia. Nevertheless, my first reaction was to laugh. With the number of people we know who've had accidental thirds (including our next door neighbors) you would think we would have learned. So I had to laugh at how incredibly stupid we could be.
And then my next reaction (which lasted for a week) was to cry. Miles had only recently turned three. And Mia was 18 months. If we had a baby next summer, we would have THREE under the age of FOUR. And Miles wouldn't even be going to kindergarten for another TWO YEARS!
It isn't that I wouldn't love another baby. But the timing would never be right for us. If we waited until Miles and Mia were old enough that they actually listen to us (if indeed that would ever happen) we'd be too old. I'll be forty in a few months and I just don't want to be doing diapers when I'm forty five. (I don't even want to be doing them now!). And I don't want to be retired before my kids graduate from high school. Not to mention the fact that I'm not sure our marriage could handle it. After all, Mike didn't take both kids to the playground by himself until Mia was over a year old.
So I went to bed and cried for a week. I tried very, very hard to talk myself into doing something about it. The stress was getting to us Mike and I were arguing a lot and I tried to convince myself that this would be a bad environment to bring a baby into. If he'd only hit me, maybe I could have convinced myself but in the end I just couldn't bring myself to do anything.
And then we started to get used to the idea. We realized we'd need a new car (that would be big enough to hold an infant car seat between the other kids), we'd have to sell our house and leave the city. We'd have to figure out how to politely ask to have back some of the baby things that we'd given away. We'd have to get used to the idea that we wouldn't be able to go on vacation for YEARS ( or at least not one that requires a plane ride).
So I had my initial doctor's appointment and all of the blood tests and then yesterday I went in for the CVS test. I sat through an hour of genetic counseling (is this really necessary for a third time?) and then went in for the ultrasound and procedure.
And there was nothing there. The technician (the same one that I had for both Miles and Mia) showed me where there had been something, but somewhere along the line it had just stopped developing. She said this happens frequently in women of "my age". And then waited for my reaction.
It was weird. I wasn't surprised. We have so many friends who've had trouble having kids that it just seemed fair that it was our turn to have something happen. And I was very relieved, I'll admit. Ninety percent of the way. But I was also sort of sad. But when I drove home I found myself looking back repeatedly at the space where the infant car seat would have been.
We didn't find out under the best circumstances. It was the day after we found out that Miles' persistent fever and smoker's cough - that had prevented any of us from sleeping all week - was caused by pnemonia. Nevertheless, my first reaction was to laugh. With the number of people we know who've had accidental thirds (including our next door neighbors) you would think we would have learned. So I had to laugh at how incredibly stupid we could be.
And then my next reaction (which lasted for a week) was to cry. Miles had only recently turned three. And Mia was 18 months. If we had a baby next summer, we would have THREE under the age of FOUR. And Miles wouldn't even be going to kindergarten for another TWO YEARS!
It isn't that I wouldn't love another baby. But the timing would never be right for us. If we waited until Miles and Mia were old enough that they actually listen to us (if indeed that would ever happen) we'd be too old. I'll be forty in a few months and I just don't want to be doing diapers when I'm forty five. (I don't even want to be doing them now!). And I don't want to be retired before my kids graduate from high school. Not to mention the fact that I'm not sure our marriage could handle it. After all, Mike didn't take both kids to the playground by himself until Mia was over a year old.
So I went to bed and cried for a week. I tried very, very hard to talk myself into doing something about it. The stress was getting to us Mike and I were arguing a lot and I tried to convince myself that this would be a bad environment to bring a baby into. If he'd only hit me, maybe I could have convinced myself but in the end I just couldn't bring myself to do anything.
And then we started to get used to the idea. We realized we'd need a new car (that would be big enough to hold an infant car seat between the other kids), we'd have to sell our house and leave the city. We'd have to figure out how to politely ask to have back some of the baby things that we'd given away. We'd have to get used to the idea that we wouldn't be able to go on vacation for YEARS ( or at least not one that requires a plane ride).
So I had my initial doctor's appointment and all of the blood tests and then yesterday I went in for the CVS test. I sat through an hour of genetic counseling (is this really necessary for a third time?) and then went in for the ultrasound and procedure.
And there was nothing there. The technician (the same one that I had for both Miles and Mia) showed me where there had been something, but somewhere along the line it had just stopped developing. She said this happens frequently in women of "my age". And then waited for my reaction.
It was weird. I wasn't surprised. We have so many friends who've had trouble having kids that it just seemed fair that it was our turn to have something happen. And I was very relieved, I'll admit. Ninety percent of the way. But I was also sort of sad. But when I drove home I found myself looking back repeatedly at the space where the infant car seat would have been.
Monday, December 12, 2005
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