I peed on a stick and it was lighter and I felt my heart sink even as I was glad to see that what needs to be happening is happening--so afraid that once that line is gone I will never see it again. God this is a complex emotional quagmire.
I also started LH testing, and there was nothing at all yesterday, and the faintest of faint lines today- it is a whispering message from my body that perhaps my hormones are beginning to kick in again.
Still spotting, sometimes not much, sometimes too much, but nothing alarming. Just persistent. I am ready for it to be over.
Yesterday I saw someone whom I last saw when I was pregnant and I had quietly told her since she knew I was trying-- and her face lit up when she saw me and quickly asked how I was, and her face fell when I said not good. She knew right then. After a hug, and my saying those crazy words that make no sense to me about losing the baby a few weeks ago-- she told me stories of friends who've had miscarriages, and who went on to have beautiful healthy twins, and one who had a miscarriage and was not able to get pregnant again, and....
I think this particular loss is so intimate (they all are, I know, but this one seems more private than most) that folks carry stories with them, not sure how to process them, or who to talk to-- and then there's someone who understands! and there is a flood. Yes, it is hard, I said. Yes, I am so happy they had a successful pregnancy! (I truly am) and Oh how I ache for the person for whom that was their only experience of pregnancy (playing to one of my biggest fears).
I wonder if that is why this community is so precious, it keeps us from having to hold our stories. We can share them and hear back, Yes, you are hurting and Yes you are going to be ok in ways you cannot imagine right now. Yes this is shitty, but Yes good things can happen.