Well, that was it... today the miscarriage finally started. It's painful - both physically and emotionally, but it's still better than the D&C the doctor had scheduled for me for this coming Tuesday.
You would think that I would cry all day, right, this being the fifth f*#^%ing loss in a row. But I didn't even have the time to feel sorry for myself. Between cleaning up my daughter's puke in MY bed and driving my stepson to the ENT doctor, picking up snotty tissues and peeling oranges, sewing her dance costume for this weekend and cooking diner, I just tried to breath through it all.
I got a phone call from somebody, who was actually looking for my husband. "How are you?" he asked kindley. I shrugged my shoulders, about to say "f.i.n.e".
Then I remembered. And I replied: FAN-TAS-TIC! JUST GREAT.
It doesn't work yet. Guess it takes some practice.
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