The Biblical, Country Song Post

In the past 24 hours, I feel like my life has made a turn towards maudlin country lyrics. The current plot trajectory is such that, were I to read it in a novel, I would roll my eyes and criticize the author's obvious choices and overly dramatic, hit-you-over-the-head-with-an-attempt-at-irony plot twists on Goodreads.com. This is some bad, grocery store checkout aisle non-fiction.

Here's the good news: my D&C was cancelled. It was cancelled as I lay pants-free in the stirrups. During a pre-procedure ultrasound I requested, my doctor found that my uterus looked the way that he'd want it to after a D&C. My uterine lining was a svelte 6mm with no gestational sac or obvious pregnancy tissue. Apparently I've passed it. Some tissue is hanging around giving me elevated HCG levels but they expect that to pass on its own. I left that appointment feeling pretty good. My body handled this miscarriage all by itself. I didn't need intervention. Maybe this was just a completely normal, random miscarriage like anyone else's as opposed to another locust in a forthcoming plague.

Nope, totally a locust. As I'd taken the day off work and it was 80 and sunny in Chicago, I decided to continue playing hooky and had brunch with my mom. She had been scheduled as my anesthesia chaperon. We then went back to her place and hung out with my sister who had a half day of work. We sipped limeade, my family's summer beverage of choice, watched the dogs play and enjoyed ourselves. And then my sister spoke up.

"Is it okay if I ruin your day?"
"Yeah, sure." (Thinking the only thing that could possibly ruin my day was to find out that my little sister was pregnant.)
"I'm pregnant."

And then basically the world stopped. It was one of those times where all ambient noise ceases and all you can hear is your heart beating. I then started breathing again and recovered. I think it took all of 3 seconds. I told her I was happy for her. I actually really am. I want my sister to have kids. I want us to have kids around the same age. That could happen. My mom, sister and I then spent the next few hours talking about names, nursery themes, her HCG levels and her litany of pregnancy symptoms. They are many. I reminded myself to continue breathing and did so successfully.

J came over after work. After perhaps the longest afternoon and evening known to mankind spent smiling with my family, we got to go home. I cried the whole way back. Went to bed. Woke up crying. Got myself together, put on a cute dress and new sandals, and then cried on a public city bus. Cried on the walk from the bus to the office. I called my mom and made her cry. Made one of my best friends cry last night. J alternately looks at me with helplessness and then holds me. At one point last night he told me to stop being negative and I ate him alive. Now he just holds me.

I'm not sure what else can happen but I'm pretty sure something will. Two of the three women of child-bearing age in my family announced their pregnancies in the last 48 hours. I expect my mom to announce that a miracle has occurred and that she, at age 65, is pregnant. My dogs might get hit by cars. I might get mugged. At the very least my car might breakdown. I'm not sure what else can happen. I know that it all sounds very dramatic but this feels so dramatic. Miscarriages happen to so many women all the time. That I can accept and deal with. I felt like I was really dealing with my sadness over that and was ready to look towards the future. And then my cousin. And then my sister, the hardest, most confusing blow of all. There is something innate that forces you to feel happiness towards a sibling's pregnancy.  I have no idea how to store that alongside my grief and anger. It's simply too much.