You Have Got to Be Effing Kidding Me

I planned to start out this week blogging about how we FINALLY cleaned our house and describing the dust, dog fur and adorable incident of our son shuffling around the kitchen with towels on his feet as we relented and promised to mop the floors.

I even thought I'd add in a few anectdotes about how great the perennial garden looks and although late, how I'm getting in the rest of the vegetables.

Then, on Tuesday, I'd wow you with the results of our first trimester screen, which started last Monday and for which we've been waiting the results. The initial verdict was good as the nuchal translucency was below average (!). However, the baby's heart rate was a bit high---200 when the average is 175 at this point. However, because I have the doppler fetal monitor at home, I could report that the heartbeat went down to 170.

Then it went back to 200.

And I called the doctor on Friday who 1) wasn't initially amused with my possession of the doppler but then 2) said it was fine because I could monitor the heartbeat.

But overall, things were going well.

Were. Going well.

Were. Past tense.

11 1/2 weeks. With an amazingly strong fetal growth, great nuchal screen and a strong, albeit fast heartbeat.

Shit. Fuck. Damn.

I am so angry right now. Everything has been going great!!!! All the signs and tests have been fantastic. How COULD THE BABY'S HEART STOP ON SATURDAY??????? WHY???? WHY ME?!?!?!?!?!?!??!!

I tried to find the baby's heartbeat Sunday night, but couldn't. I skipped checking on Saturday because I assured myself I was being too cautious and all was well.

This morning, I still couldn't find it. We called the doctor and they had us come in immediately. There was no good news. I honestly about lost it during the ultrasound and I thought I was going to scream. I may have moaned out loud. I do know that I was so mad.

Of course, I cannot stay this mad and sad forever. And the one memory that brings me comfort is pantomining to the doctor using tiny defibriliation paddles on the baby to jump start his/her heart again. I can't stay upset forever. And an easy transition for me involves morbid humor. It cuts the tension. I laugh.

But can you f*cking believe this? I cannot. I honestly think this has to be some sick joke the world is playing on me. I feel like someone has lied to me and I can't figure out who.