At this point, my midwife and I both expect that tomorrow's ultrasound will probably tell us the degree to which I've miscarried. I'm not particularly looking forward to it, but it feels like something I need to do. Early next week, I'll have a blood test or two to see where my hormone levels are.
At the end of next week, I'm supposed to go to a family reunion. Only my mother and sisters know about the first miscarriage in March. None of them know of this loss or even that I was trying to become pregnant.
Before this week, Trillian and I were devising plans for how to keep from telling people I was pregnant. We were happy that the main events are happening at a place where we can't have alcohol since that would remove one point of questioning. I planned on eating lots of cheese-only sandwiches to avoid deli meat. We were staying in a different hotel than many family members. And we always had Scooter as an excuse for needing to run off on our own for a bit.
Now, I'm not entirely sure how I'll hold up. I fully expect to be asked if we're planning on having another child. If I were pregnant, I would have easily made some vague statement about it being something for the near future while smiling on the inside. But this same question right now brings me to tears. Because I don't know; I very much want to have a second child, but I can't imagine going through this again, on the one hand, and worry that I may not physically be able to carry to term, on the other.
I'm not sure what I'll do. While there are several people I haven't seen for some time now, I know I'll still be a mess next week. This side of the family is fairly reserved and, I expect, would be at a loss for what to say and do if I told them what I'm going through.
Since we're going by car, I can make my final decision even at the last minute, but unfortunately I don't think either decision is the right one.