Limbo

The doctor's office never called me Friday. I should probably have expected that.

I'm annoyed I left work early because they told me if I got there by one my results should be in by the end of the day. Not that I can't afford to leave work early, but I got a freaking occurrence for it, and the three hours of pay would have been nice, since now I have to pay for lab work. I mean I got off at two. I could have gone after work and had my results in the same amount of time.

It's also kind of crappy to let someone go through an entire weekend not knowing if she's having a miscarriage or if she's still in fact pregnant.

I decided I'm going to keep testing every day just to see if the lines are getting darker or lighter. From Friday to Saturday, they got lighter. But today they looked the same. I don't know if I'm obsessing over this or if I'm having a completely normal and rational reaction.

I don't know anything, to be honest.

I went out Friday night. BoyWonder had a show, and I talked my friend and her husband into coming, so I got to watch BoyWonder play, and had some much-needed friend time as well. It was nice, even if I did cry in the car on the way from the restaurant to the bar. And again before I fell asleep.

Saturday was the baby shower for the Duckling. My mom was going to go with me, but she had a weird auto-immune reaction to something (who knows what caused that) and her eyes swelled shut (it's happened many times before, but it hadn't happened in a long time. Matter of fact, she's had it often enough that our family refers to it as 'toad-eye.'). So I went. My grandma came, too, so I wasn't completely alone in a room filled with my brother's girlfriend's family and friends.

I didn't have a freakout of any kind during the shower, which is something I was worried about. I didn't have any jealous or mean thoughts, which is probably because the Duckling has been an awesome thing for my family, and for my brother. I honestly believe that becoming a father has changed my brother into a completely different person. It's turned him into a man, and a good one at that, and I just can't have any hard feelings over that. Even though I'm always afraid that those emotions will rear their ugly head, they generally don't.

I did drive around the lake three times, singing slow songs and just trying to process things.

I got home and my mother-in-law was there. She doesn't know any of this is happening. I was telling her that we see the fertility specialist on her birthday, and she made a comment (a well-meaning comment) about my baby's spirit that just hadn't found a way here yet. I felt like I was might just die right there in my living room.

Also, yesterday was BoyWonder's birthday. I put on my brave, happy face and we went to the new casino... It was depressing. Packed full of people who looked gritty and rough and a little desperate. And smoky. It's only been a couple of weeks since I switched to my e-cigarette, but it's been long enough that the smoke smell was really, really bothering me.

I feel guilty because I'm having a really hard time being nice to BoyWonder. Even though there isn't really a reason to be. But he doesn't understand what's happening. He doesn't understand that I'm in a weird limbo. Pregnant but probably not. Devastated but a little bit happy that, finally, something is happening. Even if it's an awful something, it's better than nothing. I keep trying to talk to him but I can tell by the look on my face that he doesn't get it.

He said he actually expected this, which is something he's never told me before. That we've had trouble every step of this process, so it makes sense to him that this is happening. Of course we'll have some miscarriages. And maybe that's a healthy way to look at it. But it's not helping me, because he can't give me what I need. And honestly? I don't really even know what I need, aside from that call from the doctor.