Waiting.

Still bleeding. Still very minimal pain. Still waiting. Still trying to hold on to hope, even though I feel it slipping away every time I use the bathroom and see the blood.

I called the doctor's office today and spoke to an advice nurse. She ordered more bloodwork to check my hormone levels, iron levels, and blood type. I arrived at the lab around 12:20 and finally had my blood drawn a little after 1pm. The results should be ready this evening and I am expecting to have a call from the nurse by 4:30pm tonight. I was told that if I don't hear from them, I should call. An alarm is set. Otherwise, all I can do it wait. And pray. And hope that this isn't as bad as I think it is.

I went to work this morning after a very restless night of sleep. Ben knew what had happened before I even told him, which I'm actually quite thankful for. Not thankful because I wear my emotions of my sleeve a lot of times, but thankful because I didn't have to say the words. I left work at lunchtime to get my labs done and then came home and did a little more work before calling it a day. I am so thankful to have a job I can do from home and for management that allows me to do so.

And so I wait. That's all there is. It's a horrible, horrible feeling. One day I would like to have a pregnancy that doesn't start off with the diagnosis of 'miscarriage'. One that doesn't start off with the fear that I won't actually carry a baby to term. It's hard to not think I did something wrong - even though scientifically, I know I didn't. It's hard not to think I somehow deserve this - even though logically, I know I don't. It's hard not to worry that we will never have another baby - even though the chances of that are slim. My heart is breaking and I just wish I could know something ... anything ... so that I could know how to feel.

But until then ... I wait.