I showed Den the new weekly pill sorter that I bought to replace the various large bottles that currently occupy my night stand. “Didn’t you already have one of those?” he asked.

“Yes, I did… but it’s too small to hold all the pills I now take.”

He gave me a sad headshake.

::

I’m laying in bed staring at my belly button. I wouldn’t call it completely healed, but it’s well on its way. And suddenly it occurs to me that I have more physical signs of being pregnant with the ectopic than being pregnant with Devin.

::

I can’t say that I don’t care, since plainly that isn’t true. But in a way I feel kind of numb… numb to the excitement, to the fear, to the anxiety. People ask me how things are going and I shrug. I don’t know, it’s just… going. I know where I am in my cycle, I know how many days I have left. But I feel very fatalist about it. It either will be or it won’t be, and nothing I do or say or think will change that.

I guess that’s one of the upsides, as it were, to having bad things happen when you do everything right: you really start to realize that what you do doesn’t really matter. Right now it doesn’t matter if I jump or run, it doesn’t matter what I eat, it doesn’t matter how much I fret or not. There’s a huge part of life that is out of your hands and slowly I’m coming to accept that and just let it go… let go of control, let go of the illusion.

I am not saying I am giving up. We are not stopping treatments, not at all – if this FET doesn’t work we’ll be going straight into another stims cycle. I am determined and will do whatever I need to. I just realize that every cycle brings only a 50-50 chance. That’s the chance we take, and I’m okay with that, because it means 50 more than what we had to start with. Chances are this will work – it just might not be this one.

The other thing keeping my excitement and nerves in check is the knowledge that even if I do get a positive pregnancy test it does not by any means guarantee a happy ending. My miscarriage hurt me in ways that the loss of Devin didn’t, because the timing was so different. I lived for two weeks in daily fear and anxiety – was I pregnant? Would I stay pregnant? I thought the next test would reassure me… the next pregnancy test, the next beta, the next ultrasound. And I am truthfully a little nervous to be thrown back into that place again. I was relieved after my surgery just because at least I knew where I stood. My beta is Thursday. Whenever I test, if I get a positive, I still have to wait until Thursday for the first hopeful reassurance… and the earlier I test, the longer I have to wait.

Things may very well change in the next few days, as the moment of truth comes closer… it usually does. For now I’m just waiting.

The progesterone effects are starting to kick in. I checked my symptom notes from the miscarriage, I wasn’t feeling anything else yet… I’ll keep my eye out on Sunday and Monday for anything that feels strange… but not too close. Even though it is my body, I am but an observer.

::

One of my favorite songs that is currently making me tear up. From the Land Before Time.

If We Hold On Together
Diana Ross

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
As high as souls can fly
The clouds roll by
For you and I