Today I had a doctors appointment. This was to be the second post-op visit since my surgery 2 1/2 months ago in which my doctor removed the fibroids that they think may have played a part in the tragic cord accident. The main purpose of the visit today was to have an ultra sound so that the doctor could look at my uterus and see how things are healing. He wanted to be able to gage for us how much longer it would be until he would give us the "go ahead" to start trying to get pregnant.
It has been one of the hardest days in a while. I knew that today's salt would sting, but I wasn't ready for the painful memories that accompanied it.
In his office they just have one ultrasound room, and for me it is "the room". The room that brought my world to a screeching halt. The room that haunts my memory, and pulls at my heart. The room that I hate. The room where a mother's worst fears were made a reality. The room where I saw a still heart, and a lifeless body just four short months ago.
I did pretty good at keeping my emotions in check as the tender nurse led me back to the room and went through the routine instructions. However, as soon as she shut the door I pretty much lost it. As I stood there my mind was flooded with the events of June 30th. The whole day replayed in my mind, and it was as if I re-lived the all of the emotions of that day.
I was finally able to put on the robe and climb up on the table to wait for the doctor to come in. As I sat there, tears streaming down my face, I kept trying to prepare myself to see an empty screen today...no heartbeat, no movement, no baby. It was such an empty feeling. I tried to remember what it was like when that screen was full of life, and that room full of joy.
As the doctor began the ultrasound, he said he wanted to take a look at the uterus, it's lining, and the insicion sites. As he did this he commented on how happy he was with how things seemed to be healing, and he said that he was hopeful for our future.
I couldn't hardly even ask any questions because I was so choked up with emotion, but I was able to talk to him about when we could start trying to get pregnant, and then came another blow...March, yes March! I know that to most people three and a half months doesn't seem that long, but it seems like an eternity to us. Time seems to just crawl by when we think about how long it will be until we can hold another baby in our arms. This news brought on another wave of emotion and thoughts. It's the hardest thing in the world to be told that you have to "prevent" a pregnancy when that is the thing you desire most.
I was thankful to come home tonight to the warm, loving, understanding arms of Rob. It is with him that I am completly open. I appreciate him so much for the love he unconditionally shows. I am grateful that he understands my pain, and yearns to help me through the hard times. I am thankful for the tears we shed as we cuddled our "squishies" and reminiced about our son. I am blessed to have such an incredible companion that is in this with me all the way.
Although today was hard and painful, I look forward to the fresh start tomorrow offers. Branson, I love you and miss you more than words can express! I miss your movement, the sound of your heartbeat, and your hicups. I'll be loving you tonight and forever.