Not this time...
Well, it's all over now, folks.
I had my second ultrasound last Thursday. Nothing had changed. The embryo hadn't grown, and there was no evident heartbeat. So, at that point, I had two options: wait for nature to take its course and let it finish miscarrying on its own, or have a D & C with suction performed. I figured that I'd rather lose the baby under a physician's watch than not knowing when or where it would happen by itself. So, this last Monday, I had the procedure performed.
I remember nothing from the procedure itself--they had me placed under a general anesthetic, despite it being an outpatient procedure. I don't even have much memory of the recovery room. All I recall is being given oxygen right before they started...and then waking up vaguely and asking how things went. Apparently, they went well. Though it's evidently common for young women who undergo D&Cs to become nauseated, I really haven't felt much in the way of physical discomfort. No nausea, no pain (unless you count some tenderness from where I received a RhoGam shot, and some soreness at the back of my mouth from where they inserted the plastic piece to prevent me from aspirating anything in case I did get sick during surgery). Bleeding, of course, but not even close to that of one of my usual menses. Oh, and being very, very tired. But that may in part be from hormones shifting.
As for the little one... Well, being only eight weeks developed, I figured it'd get sucked out and disposed of and that'd be that. Not so, it would seem. Rather, the hospital is going to have the embryonic remains buried in the miscarriage section of Babyland at Lincoln Memorial Cemetary, and I'll receive an invitation to the Walk to Remember held in October. A nice gesture, I suppose, though very pro-life in nature--something that rather distressed my parents. Go figure.
And, then, in the meantime, something else rather unexpected has occurred. A new goddess has laid her hand on me, though for what purpose I have not yet determined. Why Persephone would come to me is at present beyond my understanding, though I suppose she and I share certain characteristics. The Queen of Swords is her card, the one often chosen for me in the absence of the Empress and the Queen of Cups. Meanwhile, I shall have to make further study into the Mysteries of Eleusis, where my lady Persephone figures prominently, as well as other figures close to my heart in legend: Ariadne, Orpheus, Eurydice. Maybe then will things become clearer, especially as Mabon approaches--one of Persephone's special days.
And, in the meantime, I do not know what else will happen. I have become hesitant about moving. After a new tenderness toward me from my parents and stresses regarding the health of my great-uncle, I'm not sure if I could just leave my parents. And, hearing constantly from both sides that they love me and will always be there for me brings me no comfort at all. It only distresses me more, in fact. How can I be expected to just turn my back on one or the other, which is what I'm going to have to do? I might be able to make the decision if only one side or the other would reject me, rather than buying my loyalty out of their undying love and tearing me apart at the seams. I don't want to run to either side. I'd rather run from both. I can't help but think if it wouldn't just be easier to get rid of myself and start all over again that way, but of course I've no nerve for such a thing. Ah, well. Time will go on.
I had my second ultrasound last Thursday. Nothing had changed. The embryo hadn't grown, and there was no evident heartbeat. So, at that point, I had two options: wait for nature to take its course and let it finish miscarrying on its own, or have a D & C with suction performed. I figured that I'd rather lose the baby under a physician's watch than not knowing when or where it would happen by itself. So, this last Monday, I had the procedure performed.
I remember nothing from the procedure itself--they had me placed under a general anesthetic, despite it being an outpatient procedure. I don't even have much memory of the recovery room. All I recall is being given oxygen right before they started...and then waking up vaguely and asking how things went. Apparently, they went well. Though it's evidently common for young women who undergo D&Cs to become nauseated, I really haven't felt much in the way of physical discomfort. No nausea, no pain (unless you count some tenderness from where I received a RhoGam shot, and some soreness at the back of my mouth from where they inserted the plastic piece to prevent me from aspirating anything in case I did get sick during surgery). Bleeding, of course, but not even close to that of one of my usual menses. Oh, and being very, very tired. But that may in part be from hormones shifting.
As for the little one... Well, being only eight weeks developed, I figured it'd get sucked out and disposed of and that'd be that. Not so, it would seem. Rather, the hospital is going to have the embryonic remains buried in the miscarriage section of Babyland at Lincoln Memorial Cemetary, and I'll receive an invitation to the Walk to Remember held in October. A nice gesture, I suppose, though very pro-life in nature--something that rather distressed my parents. Go figure.
And, then, in the meantime, something else rather unexpected has occurred. A new goddess has laid her hand on me, though for what purpose I have not yet determined. Why Persephone would come to me is at present beyond my understanding, though I suppose she and I share certain characteristics. The Queen of Swords is her card, the one often chosen for me in the absence of the Empress and the Queen of Cups. Meanwhile, I shall have to make further study into the Mysteries of Eleusis, where my lady Persephone figures prominently, as well as other figures close to my heart in legend: Ariadne, Orpheus, Eurydice. Maybe then will things become clearer, especially as Mabon approaches--one of Persephone's special days.
And, in the meantime, I do not know what else will happen. I have become hesitant about moving. After a new tenderness toward me from my parents and stresses regarding the health of my great-uncle, I'm not sure if I could just leave my parents. And, hearing constantly from both sides that they love me and will always be there for me brings me no comfort at all. It only distresses me more, in fact. How can I be expected to just turn my back on one or the other, which is what I'm going to have to do? I might be able to make the decision if only one side or the other would reject me, rather than buying my loyalty out of their undying love and tearing me apart at the seams. I don't want to run to either side. I'd rather run from both. I can't help but think if it wouldn't just be easier to get rid of myself and start all over again that way, but of course I've no nerve for such a thing. Ah, well. Time will go on.