We're either stubborn or stupid, but we decided we couldn't live without one last ultrasound. Not with the pregnancy symptoms still lingering and absolutely no signs of a miscarriage looming on the horizon at all.
I'm hovering around 10 weeks, and after getting so much advice from blogland and reading about misdiagnosed miscarriages online, we decided we needed to wait at least that long before throwing in the towel, no matter how many doctors advised us that we were "wasting time" by coming back again and again.
Thanks for that, Dr. Bedside. Your compassion was much appreciated.
So we went.
I expected nothing, but secretly hoped for something just the same. At the very least I wanted an answer.
Instead, more ambiguity. And no one to talk to us about it. They claimed there were no doctors in the building (my ass there weren't - we passed Dr. Beside in the hall heading up to his upstairs office 5 minutes before we were told they'd all left the building) and suggested I go see my own OB instead. He's affiliated with the clinic and I really did want to have a consultation with him soon anyway, but being told to go away in the midst of this ongoing agonizing limbo kind of makes me want to beat someone about the head with a car antenna.
All I know is that sac A is still empty and sac B has an "ill-defined" yolk sac in it.
They lied to us the first time that yolk sac was spotted. That was the appointment (now more than two weeks ago) that a different doctor told me he was 95% sure I'd miscarry. I asked, quite pointedly, if there was anything in either sac. His answer was a definitive "NO". And yet there was, which we found out at ultrasound #5, five days later. He robbed us of five precious days of hope, the bastard.
The very, very kind and compassionate technician I had for ultrasound #5 told us there was a yolk sac in sac B during the previous ultrasound, but that she was unable to locate it.
It magically reappeared today, albeit "ill-defined".
I know none of this is good. There should be a fetal pole and cardiac activity now. And Dr. Google told me that abnormal yolk sacs are almost always a predictor of a poor pregnancy outcome.
But I just wish someone could tell me for sure.
I'm pinning all my hopes on my poor OB, who I'm seeing first thing Wednesday morning. If he isn't able to explain all this - to tell me why I still feel pregnant, why both sacs are still growing, why my tummy is hard with that familiar fullness, why I can't just seem to miscarry and be done with it - my poor addled brain may just crumble into dust and trickle out my left ear in the night.
Tomorrow it will be four weeks since I saw the blue + on that stick. A month of this. A full month.
I have no idea how I'm even remotely sane. None whatsoever.
I've cried for my poor little tigers, for the dreams we tried not to dream but did, for My Beloved who wants another child so much it makes me ache, for our families who were so excited by our news, and for me - for the mother I want to be and for the empty arms I can't seem to fill.
So tonight I had a giant bowl of chocolate pudding after dinner. The amount of weight I've gained during this agonizing month is another subject altogether, I'm afraid...