New information – three unconnected thoughts

Today, I got my first period after the miscarriage today. 26 days. It’s so awful seeing the blood and it proving even more that I’m not pregnant.

We still have 5 weeks before our consultation with the new RE. that’s another full cycle and more. It’s probably good though. I’ll have more time to heal and get ready, and hopefully I can lose some weight. I at least have to not gain. The policy is not to do IVF if the mom’s BMI is over 35 and mine is currently 33.

I haven’t told you, our RE was the doctor of the first successful surrogate gestational carrier. He’s been doing IVF for 30 years. His clinic did just start PGD a year ago, though. The other place has been doing it at least three years. I doubt that extra experience worth $4,000 out of pocket, but then, I’d give absolutely anything for a healthy baby.

My hope is that we can get an appointment for an egg retrieval in May and a frozen embryo transfer in June. If it works out, we’d be due in March, four years after big brother Josh was due.

In other news, I can’t help but think my bad vibes caused something terrible to happen. Logically I know I didn’t really, but I still feel bad. My cousin-in-law who I was so envious of, gave birth last Friday, which I told you. What I didn’t know was that she had an incredibly long and horrible labor. I won’t go into detail for her privacy, but she and the baby are both needing a lot of care, and her sister has asked the family to help.  She was kind and didn’t send the mass e-mail to me out of deference for my grief. My husband shared it with me knowing I really would like to know. We’ve decided to make a hot dish and go over on Sunday and help. It’s going to be hard and I’m going to cry when I get home. But I need to help more than I need to stay away, if that makes any sense.

Thirdly, I’m a planner at heart and I always need to have a name for a boy and a name for a girl as a plan. Hopefully I can stop after we have kids who live. It was Joshua and Anastasia since I was a girl.  The name Caroline came to me after we lost her because I was still hoping I could have a living Anastasia. It has been Malala and Gregory for a few months, since I heard of Malala Yousafzai, who was speaking up for girls’ education  in Pakistan and was shot in the head, but survived. It means bitter in Pashto, and some people think it’s weird, but to me it means survival and a great passion for learning, which is what I want for my daughter. I haven’t been able to come up with another boy’s name I like that doesn’t have some history I don’t like or already belongs to someone close to us, or sounds goofy with our last name. In my dream last night I came up with two that I showed to The Dad and he picked the one after a (non-existent in real life) Norse god. It was something like Vadzlex that we couldn’t pronounce. The other choice was Micah. This morning I told The Dad and he said he’d think about Micah. Middle names we are saving for the kid(s) who live(s), after my mother-in-law and my father.

Here’s a fourth thought. Wednesday is a month since we lost Greg and I want to do something with the grandparents to commemorate. They have been so supportive and it makes me love them even more. We’ll light a candle in front of his Jizo statue and have a meal together but I don’t know what else. There’s nothing to bury and no memories to share. Only hopes that aren’t fully dashed, just heartbreakingly delayed.


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