The Waiting Place

{snotty-nosed, backwards hat-wearing love of mine!}

 

I met with my doctor this last week to discuss our plan of action. The first round of medication came with a flood of side effects that completely wiped me out for a few days and has left my poor body feeling weak, even 10 days later. All the side effects but none of the benefits--the medication did not fulfill its responsibilitiy of flushing out the residual product of conception (POC). So I met with her, and she was as sympathetic as always. We even laughed about how my body never does anything right in this department. Laughed myself straight to tears.  

 

Some more testing came back about the fetus and we have been recommended to genetic counseling. It seems that James and I are truly a one in a million couple, even our genes make fireworks! "We need to run even more tests," the doctor said. "But we have to wait until you are not pregnant."

 

Pregnant? Was she confused? Here we were trying to decide how everything leftover from the first D&C could be removed from my body before causing infection, or worse, and she was confusing me with a pregnant woman?

 

And then it dawned on me. My HCG levels are still extraordinarily high (a problem we are still trying to understand) and medically, I am still considered pregnant. 21 weeks pregnant, to be exact. Although instead of rejoicing over a healthy ultrasound or finally fitting into maternity clothes or preparing for our new little boy, I was sitting in a doctors office, 8 weeks after a devastating miscarriage, trying to force my body into the realization that it's not pregnant. This is not what pregnancy should be like.

 

Wednesday's are blood days. I will have weekly blood tests until I have 3 consecutive weeks of zero HCG levels. The way it's going, I think I might be giving blood every Wednesday for the rest of my life! Our plan is totally based on those numbers, which should be connected with the remaining POC. The concern is that the elevated HCG levels means that my uterus is housing something dangerous for my body, cancerous even, so those numbers are vital. The doctor and I developed a plan for every scenario--numbers up, numbers down, numbers same, numbers only down a little--and then we wait for Wednesday. This Wednesday things could look good, but I've been warned against rejoicing because the numbers can turn at any moment. So then we wait until next Wednesday when it starts all over again. Enter anxiety attack every Tuesday here! 

 

James and I had only been married a few weeks when I celebrated my birthday and he gave me a copy of my favorite Dr. Seuss book, "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" On the inside cover, he wrote, "I'm looking forward to many adventures with you now and in the future; I can imagine no better travel companion than you." And boy, have we had our fair share of adventures! I have often read that book with tear-filled eyes, seeing myself in the pages going through successes and failures, knowing my way and sometimes feeling quite lost, having lots of friends and then on the next page being alone. That book might have been written for children, but I'm pretty sure it provides a valuable lesson for adults.

 

Lately, I've found myself in Dr. Seuss' Waiting Place. The Waiting Place is for people who are just waiting for things to happen--pots to boil, the weekend to come, their hair to grow, etc. And I feel like I'm stuck in that awful world. I'm waiting for my numbers to go down, to be done with this pregnancy and to be given the OK by my doctor to excercise again. I'm waiting to know our hostile genetic odds, to receive answers about the future of our family and to have peace with my prolonged recovery. Everytime someone tries to console me with "you can try again soon" or "you'll be pregnant again before you know it" I try to calmly tell them that that part of my life is currently in the Waiting Place, and try not to wince when they tell me to have faith, or pray harder, or they just silently judge. But I do have faith, and I am praying, and it hurts--all of it. The days are passing and work is getting accomplished but I can't completely close this chapter until my body is ready--and so I wait.

 

But if my past adventures are any indication of the truth of Dr. Seuss' words, I'm sure before long I will be at my peak again, and maybe even moving mountains. I sure hope so.   

 

"Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying. You'll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you'll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky."