I've never been so relieved to see a dropping beta (as of yesterday, HCG = 237.3, progesterone = 11.12). Ultrasound for ectopic was negative, as expected. In my mind this has been over since Monday's results came in. Glad my body seems to be getting the picture too. Lingering in this semi-pregnant but not heading anywhere good state is not recommended. I just want this limbo situation to be over with.
In your experience, at what point does an actual miscarriage commence? Is it when the progesterone drops low enough, and at what level does that tend to be?
I am sad, but knowing I will miscarry while simultaneously having Ms. Magpie here in my life is a qualitatively different experience. I would love to have a sibling for Magpie, but I am thrilled with her presence in our lives. She changes the experience of this miscarriage so deeply for me. So this feels hard, but it is not the profoundly hopeless, filled-with-fear-that-I-will-never-get-out-the-other-side sadness I have experienced with all of the other losses. I am sad, but definitely still intact.
Magpie, on the other hand, is magnificent. I am even more grateful for her presence in our lives than usual, and she feels ever more a miracle.
On the day I went in for the induction before Magpie's birth, I quoted Carole Maso (with thanks to Gwinne): "I dream of the one yet to be born. The one still curled in my womb. The one who will open like a star."
And Magpie has opened like a star - she has unfurled into our lives in all her glory, a shining, living, breathing, amazing girl, one who came so close to never existing. I still can't quite believe it.
Now, as if on cue, she is calling from her crib: "Mommy?".... "Mommy?".... "Mommy?" And so I will go to her for some morning cuddles in the rocking chair, warm milk in her sippy cup to hand her for this cold, cold morning.
Mo
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In your experience, at what point does an actual miscarriage commence? Is it when the progesterone drops low enough, and at what level does that tend to be?
I am sad, but knowing I will miscarry while simultaneously having Ms. Magpie here in my life is a qualitatively different experience. I would love to have a sibling for Magpie, but I am thrilled with her presence in our lives. She changes the experience of this miscarriage so deeply for me. So this feels hard, but it is not the profoundly hopeless, filled-with-fear-that-I-will-never-get-out-the-other-side sadness I have experienced with all of the other losses. I am sad, but definitely still intact.
Magpie, on the other hand, is magnificent. I am even more grateful for her presence in our lives than usual, and she feels ever more a miracle.
On the day I went in for the induction before Magpie's birth, I quoted Carole Maso (with thanks to Gwinne): "I dream of the one yet to be born. The one still curled in my womb. The one who will open like a star."
And Magpie has opened like a star - she has unfurled into our lives in all her glory, a shining, living, breathing, amazing girl, one who came so close to never existing. I still can't quite believe it.
Now, as if on cue, she is calling from her crib: "Mommy?".... "Mommy?".... "Mommy?" And so I will go to her for some morning cuddles in the rocking chair, warm milk in her sippy cup to hand her for this cold, cold morning.
Mo
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