That's what happens

*sigh*

Near the end of April I was so nauseated that I carried a small trash can around the house with me, and even made sure the little trash can was right next to my bed, within grabbing distance, when I went to sleep.
Derrick semi-joked a few times, "Are you pregnant?" and "Are you sure you're not pregnant?" and I responded that we will wait and see and that we would known soon either way.

Having a freshly-made 4-month-old baby, the idea of being pregnant again so soon was overwhelming. But awesome? But overwhelming.
We discussed it a lot. At one point I asked Derrick if he would be mad if I was. He kind of said yes then said not mad per se, but ugggh.
A few days later when talking about it he came to the conclusion of "That'd suck. I mean, Yay, new family member. But that'd suck." I soon was less of the "that'd suck" frame of mind, and more of the "yay, new family member" one.

Along with the nausea I started getting so. dang. sweaty. Wake up? Forehead glistening. Scramble eggs? Feel a drip down the small of my back. Do a haircut? SWEAT DRIPPING OFF MY EYELASHES INTO MY EYES, POURING DOWN MY FOREHEAD AND DRIPPING OFF MY CHIN.

Overly dramatic sweat glands.

I was feeling pretty blech and bloated so I decided to take a pregnancy test. I didn't tell Derrick I was doing it.

I watched the second little line pop up within about 3 minutes and my heart and stomach did about 74 different reactions.

Oops?
But also WAHOO!
But oops? and also Oh, crap.
But also YAY!

Denial. Shock. Elation.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I made the decision to wait to tell Derrick when I had a darker test. I figured that would probably be first thing the next morning.

That whole night my mind was buzzing. CoronaTot, as the baby was immediately dubbed (Jeremiah was NachoTot and Astoria was WaffleTot), would be born between Christmas and New Years. All of my babies would be December babies. Fantastic. I loved that.

So. Excited.

Redownloaded the pregnancy apps
Glanced over our running baby name list
Thought a lot about how I want to go about talking to Derrick about it. What his reaction might be. If he'd be eventually happy about it, even though it'd be a shock?

-----



The next morning I took another test.

My stomach dropped.

The line was really, really faint.

That's, like, REALLY not the direction that color is supposed to go.

Seven tests. Nine tests?

I took AT LEAST seven tests over about three, maybe four days.

I ran to the store during a quarantine to buy pregnancy tests.

I took seven tests and each time the second line got fainter. Only discernible in person, the camera stopped picking up the details of the second line.

I came out of the bathroom the third day and told Derrick I took a test and it was negative. His reaction was relief. Ouch, that stung.
I told him, "I've got to tell you something, though. It used to be positive."

Then I started crying.

I called my doctor to see if I could get a blood test, just to see what was up. They asked me to come in for a full appointment first. While there they did two dip tests. My doctor came in and asked how quickly I'd been getting positives on my tests and I told him within 3 minutes with the first and longer each time after that.
He said, "Hmmm. I did two tests. The first was negative, the second was positive."

I told my doctor I understood this wasn't proceeding well and I just didn't want to miscarry on Mother's Day. He jokingly responded, "Of course you will, Susannah. That's what happens." I like our doctor.

After lots of discussion, he sent me down for the blood draw for testing to also make sure there wasn't something ectopic or anything like that.


Blood pregnancy test results came back negative. I miscarried on Mother's Day.
I felt pregnant for a couple more weeks. I'm still waiting to feel like my hormones have all figured themselves out yet. It has definitely added largely to my panic issues of late.

Although I knew things weren't going to go well, I am still hurting. It was a quick moment of excitement and almost two months of mourning so far.
So many friends have since announced their pregnancies and each time it stings and want to delete my social media for a while.

I still cry about it, but the weepy days are further apart now.

I talk about CoronaTot occasionally. I glance at the positive tests and wonder what it would've been like.

Derrick seems to be unfazed by it. "If you don't birth them they don't count.", he said. *sigh*

I'm still mourning. Missing what could have been.