That's how my day was.
*First, today is CD2. As I previously discussed with my doctor, we decided to re-do all the fertility and pcos testing since it's been about 2 years and I'm inching towards 38 in a couple of months. Doctor waved to me as he went from one appointment to another. Nice nurse drew blood for FSH, E2, LH, TSH, Testo.sterone, DHEAS, Prola.ctin, Creati.nine.
At 8am today, the office was rocking. I've only seen the office that full a couple times in the (on and off) 2 years I've been going to this clinic. They usually schedule things far enough apart so you don't see many people. In the waiting room was a "husband/partner", and a family. Yes, a family: man, woman and child. Yes, a child in the waiting room of the fertility clinic. He was about 18 months old, maybe. Running around and squealing. He took his shoe off and giggled. Loudly. This morning was one of 2 or 3 times I've had to wait, but it was with the family. The child even walked up to me as I was studiously avoiding his gaze by reading on my b-berry.
Usually, I try to be sympathetic when people bring small children with them to the clinic. Maybe the babysitter canceled. Grandma was sick. But you know what? If you have to bring your child with you? Keep him in your lap. Bring a book so he can sit quietly. Take him outside to run around until you're called for your appointment. And for god's sake keep him away from the other infertiles. Keep. Him. Quiet.
Results will be back Tuesday, probably. This may give us an idea of how much time we have to play with (ha, play) and what if any additional challenges we may face.
*I decided to go to the service. I really didn't decide until this morning. Last night, C said he really didn't want to go. He had his own way, his own plan to memorialize the boys. And if there was threat of "god talk," he didn't want it.
It was good that he didn't go. There was plenty of god talk. Four or five readings. J, my grief counselor was there, handing out the programs and the readings. She's so good. She knew not to give me one. There was one verse about Nathan and seeing his dead son or something? I don't know, I just hear in my head "seeing his son dead," "seeing my dead son." Christ on a bike. Oh, and my favorite bit was "blessed are the mourners." Blessed? What?? How did I get so lucky to be blessed? The minister said he had a stillborn son. He talked about grieving his mother, a cousin who died when they were both eight. Blessed?
I really don't understand. I mean, I guess I understand, but I really don't appreciate it. Screw you. Bless this.
And I know C would have stalked off cursing. It just made me cry more. I got through the service, there were other parts that were okay. The reading of names (as requested by parents) was very sad. I didn't rsvp so they didn't read the boys' names. If they had, I would have just been a freaking, sobbing mess. J, who lost a little girl at 20 weeks almost 30 years ago, handed out white roses. People placed them on stones. She gave me two roses, one for each of my sons. I didn't place them. I didn't want to let go of them. One of the nurses sang, someone brought a therapy dog. It was nice to see people, but so sad, too. Someone said this was the biggest turnout they'd had in a long time. Some there were older sibs of a lost baby. There were probably 3 kids around 7 to 10 years old.
Because I was alone, J came and stood with me for parts of the service, put her arm around me and we both cried. Before and after the service, she (re)introduced me to the nurses who attended. A couple of them were familiar, a few weren't. She introduced me by saying my name, and that my due date is tomorrow (I actually had a few). It was weird. Several of the nurses came straight from their shift. There were no doctors there.
One of the nurses, Sara, greeted me with a genuine hug. She had taken care of me one of the days we had come back to the hospital, when I was afraid I was going into labor (I wasn't) and she spent a lot of time with us that day, just talking with us. When her shift ended that day, she said something very sweet about us being a wonderful couple, and that it was an honor for her to be with us during this time. When we had come back, thinking we were going to be able to induce here at our local hospital, Sara was on duty, and asked to be our nurse for the delivery. She was so so sweet. Today, when I told her about my sister, she closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. She remembered something my dad had talked about the day of the almost-induction almost 5 months ago. Very personal, very kind.
*Went to a chain jewelry store and found a garnet ring to memorialize the boys. It's a heart-shaped stone in a bezel with a teeny, teeny tiny chip of a diamond on either side. There were other fancier rings that I liked, too, but this was simple. And there was enough symbolism with the birthstone and the heart between two little gems. It's not something I would normally pick (no hearts!), but I think it's good, simple, appropriate. I'll try to take a picture and post it. Unfortunately, this ring was small enough (size 5.5!), that there was not really room for engraving on the inside. But the symbols are enough. I know what it means.
And so we got home around 5 or so. I'm exhausted.
On a Saturday, 36 weeks ago today, I had the IUI in which I conceived Jacob and Joshua. Technically, I'm at 40 weeks today -- or would be. Official due date on Monday. I don't know what I'll do for the day.
In the meantime, I left the roses outside, threaded through the handle of the railing on our stoop. No balloons proclaiming "It's a boy!" Just 2 white roses.
Blessed are the mourners.
**By the way, thank you for your responses to my questions. It did help me decide whether or not to go. While the religious aspect did not suit me, I think I'm glad I went. Even if it was draining. Don't know if I'd go again, but it gave me a lot to think about, at the very least.