babyfruit: the (mis)adventures of mommyhood

the longest day

This day will go down in history as the longest day,
ever, in my entire life. And it has just begun.

I've entered into a zen-like space. For those of you
who are familiar with Zen Buddhism, there is a state
called "Empty Mind" - well, that's where I'm trying
to be.

Although I must admit, between weird dreams about
doctors cleaving tumors from my body and a quiet
certainty that there is no heartbeat, I'm really still
more in the non-zen state of "Monkey Mind."

I've been giving that last ditch effort to be positive
by singing a song to my uterus. For those of my
generation, you will remember the DeFranco family
led by Tony DeFranco (Tiger Beat heartthrob).
The song was called "Heartbeat, It's a Lovebeat."

For those not in the know, the chorus goes like
this:

A heartbeat, it's a lovebeat,
And a lovebeat is a good vibration,
Oh, a heartbeat it's a lovebeat,
And when we meet , it's a good sensation,
Listen to my heart pound,
Listen to my love sound.

Feel it gettin' stronger,
Can't hold back any longer,
'Cause a heartbeat, it's a lovebeat,
And a lovebeat is a good vibration,
Oh a heartbeat it's a lovebeat,
And when we meet, it's a good sensation,
Listen!

If that doesn't kickstart that tiny heart,
I don't know what else will.

Trying to hold the pessimism at bay.
Empty mind, empty mind...

countdown to Wednesday

G. has been in town so I've been offline.
Just discovered I left my powercord for
my PowerBook in Lander and I'm in Laramie
for the rest of the week and then filming
in Denver for the miscarriage documentary.
So I'm going to have to charge it in the
car when I can.

No news. Don't feel very pregnant. Don't
feel bad in any way physically. Feeling resigned
to accepting my fate as a miscarrying woman
one more time but open to more positive
news if that will come on Wednesday.

Of course, if they do not see a heartbeat flicker
on Wednesday, then I have no idea what the
next step will be. Probably schedule a D&C.
I can't imagine they'd have me wait another
week. Not possible. Then again, this entire
experience of trying to carry a pregnancy to
term has been full of unbelievably ridiculous
events. So maybe anything is possible, and I
just have to mentally prepare for something
else outrageous.

G. had to return to Alaska so I'm going to
the sonogram alone again. Definitely not my
favorite part of this process. But as always,
I do what I have to do. What else can I do?

whole lotta nothing

no news. no real news, at least. just some
nebulous medical bullshit about not knowing
yet, not being optimistic but not being
pessimistic either. and he said he knows
how I feel, being in limbo like this. yeah, right.
no man could ever know.

the gestational sac is much bigger than the
first sonogram and visibly (to me) bigger
and different from the 2nd one Friday night.
the 2nd hospital failed to give actual dimensions
so they can't really compare.

but to me, the 2nd time I could see a white
line in the sac and this time, I could see a white
line along with a white dot and a very thin
white line outlining the yolk sac.

he pointed out the white dot which should
be the embryo. right now, there is no hearbeat.
so all we can do is wait until next Wednesday
when they schedule their sonograms to see
if they see anything more. basically, if there
is no heartbeat then, things will be looking down.

so either:

1. I will start cramping and bleeding between now
and next Wednesday which means miscarriage

or

2. Nothing will happen between now and next
Wednesday but the 3rd sonogram will show no
heartbeat which means I'll miscarry

or

3. Nothing will happen between now and next
Wednesday but the 3rd sonogram will show
a heart flicker and then I have about an 82%
chance of carrying to term.

I think that is how it goes.

Which is outrageously ridiculous how imperfect
and unknown this pregnancy thing is. It is
insane that there are women going through
this void, this frightening space of not knowing.

After the sonogram, I stopped by my acupuncturist
just to see if her husband could fit me into his
schedule for an emergency fertility session.
She has been out on maternity leave (nice to
have a fertile acupuncturist). She was back and
happened to have a single appointment available
that morning so I was able to see her and get
a treatment.

She worked on stimulating chi to the uterus.
All I know is that I started seeing vivid colors
when I closed my eyes - a hot neon magenta
pink on top of red and then a brilliant violet color.

After the treatment, I started shaking because
my extremeties were cold - everything in my
core around my abdomen was warm.

She gave me some supportive herbs and sent
me on my way.

Since then, I've been feeling spent, like my body's
fuel is being used up. So I'm lounging in bed doing
emails and readying for a nap.

Who knows. Who the hell knows?

I have no earthly idea what to think

The last poster on the previous post really got to me.
A tiny glimmer of hope seeped into my well-protected
heart and it has freaked me out. But I am grateful, too,
to hear what other women have gone through.

This has been the most ridiculous 3 days I've ever
lived through, and I think I've done it calmly and
rationally despite the complete insanity of it all.

I may be walking around with a growing fetus or
a completely dead thing. And even tomorrow brings
no guarantee that we'll know one way or another.

They don't tell you about these times in pregnancy
books, and I think that is an absolute crime. I've
leafed through the 3 pregnancy books that I have
with me, and they are utterly useless. Useless.

la la limbo land

I'm still filing these posts under pregnancy because
until its over, it ain't over. But how crazy is this?
I have no idea if this pregnancy is viable or not.
So much for being so "in tune" with my body.

I am still cramping daily - brief, very intermittent,
but each time it feels like my period is starting
right at that exact moment, and I often run to the
bathroom, reaching out to grab a maxi pad, when
I realize there is no blood there.

Recap:
Since last week, my pregnancy symptoms went away,
practically overnight. One evening I'm boasting to
G. that my boobs are getting absolutely huge and
are killing me and the next day, they have shrunken
back to near-normal size and don't hurt at all. In fact,
they did not hurt for a week.

Early on, I was feeling weird surges and some queasiness.
I have never felt really nauseaus during any pregnancy
and this one has been no exception. But there was a
tightness in my throat, a feeling in the morning that "I better
eat something" and always feeling fine after eating.
When the boobs stopped hurting and enlarging, the
little queasy tight-throated feeling disappeared entirely.

For the last 5 days, I have been entirely symptom free
other than the occasional cramp. It is as if the whole idea
that I was pregnant at all is ludicrous. The numbers bore
this out - pathetic non-doubling numbers that filled my mind
with hopelessness.

The 2 sonograms didn't help. Monday the 11th there was
a mere round black spot with nothing inside. Even the
technician concluded it was non-viable. Then on Saturday,
there was a yolk sac in the gestational sac which had
clearly changed shape and size although was closer to
5 weeks in size instead of 6 weeks in size which was
where I'm supposedly at.

The nurse told me Sunday that we could be wrong that
I'm at 6 weeks - that implantation could have happened
at anytime and she gave me a wide range of dates
(although I think it happened about 6 days after
conception ie. conception March 19, implantation
March 25).

She says we will not know anything until Wednesday,
Sonogram #3. They won't check levels again now
that we are doing sonograms. "They aren't reliable
anymore," she explains.

And now today - the tight throat queasy is back, my
boobs have started to hurt again. I'm not holding on to
any hope here - just observing. I know symptoms came
and went and came back again during previous
pregnancies that all ended in miscarriage.

It is the not knowing that is the hardest part. Everything
else is what it is, and I can accept that. My latest tactic
is to pretend I'm not pregnant but that I'm on a health
kick so am still not drinking wine and still trying to eat
meat and healthy things.

Mind games for the miscarrying woman.

another day, another question mark

I wake up. I wonder "am I pregnant?" Or is this
some cruel joke that the medical community is
playing on me now because they are afraid of
the liability of telling me I'm no longer really
pregnant or just a little pregnant but even that
is going away soon. Maybe they're afraid I'll go
on a shiraz binge, then, by some miracle of
miracles, the pregnancy stays but the fetus is
drunk and damaged.

I'm pretty much bracing myself for miscarrying
sometime next week. I won't do anything drastic
at the moment - just wait for my body to give
me the signs. Right now, I feel like I've got a
little headset on that is supposed to translate my
body signals into language I can understand
and the medical community has fiddled with the
dials so I'm not understanding the things that
I understood last time around. Suddenly, nothing is
making sense.

I know I can regain the trust in my body, the
understanding of its ebbs and flows. I'll just
listen a little harder, maybe even try to meditate
(something I've always been told I should do but
have never have the patience to try except in
yoga class). If I can clear my mind, maybe my
body whispers will be heard.

My mind is looking ahead to finishing the TV
series I've been working on that has kept me
here in Wyoming, working more on my
miscarriage documentary, going to my girlfriend's
wedding in Mexico with G., driving to Alaska with
my mom and G., and settling into our new home
in Anchorage. So much to look forward to.

I don't know if I'll ever carry a baby to term.
But maybe the 5th time will be the charm.
When I'm immediately post-miscarriage, I think
that maybe emotionally, I cannot do it again.
Physically, I marvel at the strength and resiliency
that my body has after the first several weeks of
precarious healing.

Then, as the weeks pass, I remember that my
mind, heart and soul are also incredibly strong
and resilient. Then I realize that I can do it again
if I get pregnant again. And maybe it will be
different.

This pregnancy has been very different from
the other 3. Since eating lots more meat, I've
found some new inner core of strength that
must be common to meateaters but foreign to
a tofu girl like me. I have not spotted at all,
not an iota of spotting. Maybe I just didn't wait
long enough to bulk up. Maybe once I'm at sea
level and with G. and eating game meat (he is
the Great White Hunter), all the forces will be aligned
and the next time really will work.

But until then, I have to find that elusive inner
calm, accept my fate as a miscarrying woman -
just this time - and allow my body to do what it
knows how to do. And I will go along for the ride,
trying to understand snippets of my body's
language along the way, just trying to accept
without insisting that I understand.

who the hell knows

This morning, I decided I needed another hCG
because I was definitely not feeling pregnant.
I must seem like an addict - addicted to data.
But I couldn't fathom going through the weekend
without getting some sense of my levels.

I called the nurse and told her I wasn't feeling
pregnant and that I was having a little bit of
pain on my left side. Not acute, not continuous,
just a few times yesterday and today.

After getting my blood drawn, I drove down to
Denver (2.5 hours) to meet up with some girlfriends
who I knew in New York City "back in the day."
They had flown into Denver to visit with me and
a few other female friends and NYC expats.

I got the call from my nurse the moment I arrived
in Denver.

"Your level is 2040. That's good," she said.

"How can that be good?" I asked incredulously. "My
last count was 1641. That's only about 400 points."

"But that's good for just one day."

"What do you mean one day?"

"You were 1641 on the 14th which was yesterday,"
she replied.

"No, I was 1641 on the 12th which was Tuesday.
That is only 400 points in 2 and a half days.
That's not good."

Silence as she checks my records.

"You're right. 1641 on the 12th. 2040 today."

"That's not good, is it?"

"Well, I'm more worried about the pain you are
having. Can you describe it again?"

"It isn't really bothering me. It isn't acute or
as painful as the menstrual-like cramps I've
been having every day once in a while. And I'm
not hurting right now. It doesn't last long.
I'm not that worried about it."

Then she went into a whole schpiel about ectopic
pregnancies. I already knew about this - I had
a sonogram done Monday to make sure and they
distinctly saw a little black gestational sac in
my uterus and nowhere else. But she went on and
on about it.

"It is up to you, but I think you should go in for
another sonogram. The sooner we know, the
better."

I agreed but explained I had just driven down to
Denver for lunch with friends I had not seen in
years, I was not in any pain, the sonogram a few
days ago showed no ectopic pregnancy and I wasn't
going to rush in for a sonogram at that very second.

She put a Physician's Assistant on the line who reminded
me about the possible fatality risk of an ectopic pregnancy.
We finally agreed that after I drove back to Laramie,
I'd go to the emergency room at the local hospital
for a sonogram. That would be about 8pm.

I didn't have any more pain. It wasn't even really
pain. Just a tenderness and slight ache. Believe me,
I'd be the first one to be alarmed if I had pain.
And I know I should be grateful that my medical
practitioners were actually taking everything I said
seriously unlike previous physicians who made me
feel like an actual pain I was feeling was in my head.

I drove back home in the evening and got to the
emergency room at 8pm on the dot. I was brought
back to a cubicle, undressed, peed in a cup and
then the nurse brought in a Doppler machine.

"We have to see if we can hear a heartbeat," she explained.

"It is way too early," I said.

"I know, but its the law." So she squeezed cold gel
on my belly and rubbed the device around. The sounds
emitting from the machine were like something from
outer space. No heartbeat, of course.

"I know what you're feeling," she said compassionately.
"I've had a miscarriage myself."

She told me a little of her story then left to get the
doctor.

A lab technician walked in next. She pulled about 5 or
6 vials out of a box and laid them on the guerney where
I was reclining reading an Oprah magazine. Thank God
I was smart enough to bring a magazine into the room
with all the waiting.

"Why are you drawing blood?" I asked.

"We have all kinds of tests we have to run. And this big one..."
she held up a large glass vial, "is for the blood bank in
case you go into surgery."

"What??? I'm here for a sonogram - I don't understand
why you have to draw more blood."

"I'll go ask the doctor," she said sheepishly and left the
room. I could hear her outside in the main area speaking
to the doctor. "She doesn't want her blood drawn."

"We need to check her levels," the doctor's voice came
through the glass partition.

I slid the glass aside and poked my head out. I must have
been a sight with my hairy legs, black socks and one hand
holding the hospital robe shut in the back.

"Why do you need to check my levels again?" I called out
across the main area to the doctor on the other side
of the counter. "I just had my blood drawn here today,
this morning, and my level is 2040."

Everyone was looking my way.

"I'm here for a sonogram. All you need to do is stick
the thingy in me, wave it around and look!"

Yes, I actually shouted that.

"I'll be right in to speak with you," the doctor admonished.

I waited. I read.

The doctor came in. He explained that my nurse down
in Ft. Collins left a message that my levels were taken
yesterday and were 2040.

"No, they were taken this morning and were 2040.
They were also taken on the 12th and they were 1641."

So my reproductive clinic gave the emergency room
the wrong information just like they told me the wrong
information over the phone. What am I? Chopped liver?
Do they really not know who I am after treating me
(in a rather hands off manner, mind you) for over a year?

"Okay, we won't take any more blood. We'll have to call
a technician in to do the sonogram, though. They'll have
to come from home," he said, looking at the clock on
the wall. 9:00pm.

I waited. I read.

The original nurse came in and said "I hear you are mad
at me."

"What?!?"

"The doctor said you were mad at me because we were
trying to draw your blood."

"I was absolutely not mad at you or at anyone. I just
didn't understand why I needed more blood drawn -
and that much blood drawn - just for a sonogram."

We talked for a little while. She told me more about
her miscarriage then left again.

Finally, a technician arrived with a wheelchair.

"Do I really need to ride in it? I can walk," I insisted.

She laughed. "Hop on. It'll be fun!"

I obeyed.

The technician was great. She talked me through
everything. Then, as the image of my uterus
floated in the middle of the screen, I saw the
gestational sac. It was different than a few
days ago.

Instead of being tiny, round and totally black,
it was a little more oblong shaped and had a
white spot inside. The yolk sac.

She confirmed that yes, there was a yolk sac.
I told her I know for a fact it wasn't there during
my last sonogram.

"Then it is still growing," she said, then calculated
that it would be about 4 weeks 5 days based on
the size.

I am actually 5 weeks and 6 days.

"What does this mean?" I asked, knowing there was
no absolute answer.

"Well, it means you are still pregnant," she replied.

She wheeled me back to the cubicle. I waited. I read.

The doctor came back in.

"Well, it looks like you are still pregnant," he said
tentatively.

"Yeah, but the levels are low and the size is smaller
than what it should be," I retorted.

"That doesn't necessarily tell us anything definitive,"
he admitted.

"Yeah, I know," I acknowledged. Nothing definitive.

"So my advice is that you just wait and see."

"Yeah, I know."

He left and a few minutes later, the original nurse came
in with final paperwork.

"You're still pregnant," she said warmly. "I know it is
hard to have hope but you shouldn't not have hope..."

"I know." I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

Another nurse poked her head in the room.

"Your husband is on the phone. He's worried about you."

I looked at the clock. 10:00pm.

"Tell him I love him, I'm fine and I'll call him in a few minutes."

She left to relay the message then returned and poked her
head back in.

"He says he loves you, too."

My husband. Far away in Alaska. Worried, of course.
But I was fine. And apparently, the medical community
still considers me to be pregnant. Despite all the
not so good signs. They just really don't know.

I remembered the 2nd doctor I was seeing after my
first miscarriage and during my 2nd pregnancy.
After I miscarried that 2nd time, I had a list of over
20 questions of things I didn't understand and needed
answers to.

"You are trying to find answers where there are none,"
he said, irritated and impatient.

I was so angry with him.

But now, more than ever, I realize he was right.

a new calm

I am in a new space. I am not checking numbers,
I am not paying too much attention to anything
pregnancy-related at all.

I am in a little bubble of calm.

Yesterday's day of pampering was a bizarre rollercoaster
unto itself.

First was a visit to a Chinese herbalist/nutritionist.
I wanted to check to see if the herbs my acupuncturist
gave me were the right ones - just a 2nd opinion.
I also wanted to make sure my nutrition was
up to snuff.

The first thing she said to me was:

"If you had come to me asking about getting pregnant,
I would have told you that I do not advise it. You should
not be pregnant at your age. But now that you are pregnant,
I will do my best to help but cannot promise anything.
But if you miscarry this time, I would advise that you
do not try to get pregnant again. Maybe you are not
meant to have a baby."

Needless to say, tears began to stream down my face.
I was in total shock, couldn't even muster anger and
could not stop the tears.

Still, I remained and decided to hear her out. She said:

"The diet you had in your 20s and 30s (lots of veggies,
fruit, tofu - little meat) depleted your body of its energy.
You are nearing the end of your vital life producing
energy. You are very close to menopause. I can feel
that in your handshake and in your pulses. Your body
does not have the energy to carry another life within it."

She and I actually agreed on nutrition, drawing from Asian
& even macrobiotic but adding meat because, as she
pointed out, as an O positive blood type, I need to be
eating meat. This is why, she explained, I've always
felt faint when I didn't eat enough meat in my 20s and 30s.

She thought the herbs were fine to take. She emphasized
staying away from dairy, coffee (even decaf), and to
up my whole grain intake. She said stir fry was one
of the best meals for me (which I've always loved).

I left the consultation feeling a strange sense of calm.
I don't think I believe her that I should not and can not
have a baby, but hearing someone say it flat out just
like that really shook me to the core.

I went on to my acupuncturist who added some emotion
points - specifically those that deal with grief because
I told her that I think I have a problem dealing with
anger and grief. Can't seem to process them properly.

I set up the camera and filmed the acupuncture session,
then headed over for my massage. I know you are supposed
to be careful of full body massages during early pregnancy,
only because there are points on the body that can induce
labor. My massage therapist seemed knowledgeable
about those things but then I caught her rubbing a few
places - like the big toe and around the knee - that
I thought were no-no zones.

"Great," I thought. "I've come here for relaxation and
this might be triggering uterine contractions."

Who knows what is happening now. I drove back to
Laramie (3 1/2 hours), stopping several times to
stretch and pee. Now I'm here for a week and told
my nurse that unless I totally do not feel pregnant
anymore, I won't be insisting on hCG levels until
after the next ultrasound.

And now I don't feel pregnant.

I'm sure my mind (or body) is playing tricks on me
because I've made the decision to be calm and
zen-like for the next week. I'm being mocked
by my uterus, by my ovaries, even my fallopian
tubes are joining in on the fun. But I'm calm,
I'm resolute, I'm just hanging in there and will
go to yoga tomorrow to keep the calm flowing.

rollercoaster up...

Today is a day of pampering. First a visit to a Chinese
herbalist, then my acupuncturist, then my massage
therapist.

Yesterday's hCG was 1641. 92% of doubling for those
who are obsessively mathematical. I've had G. look
at the numbers from my last 3 pregnancies and he
is making me a chart in his wonderful, scientific way.
He feels good to have a project where he feels he
can help. For me, it is already clear that my critical
timeframe is during week 6.

So we talked about it and decided I'll hold off on
hCG tests for the rest of the week unless the doctor
requests it. Then I'll resume next week on Monday
during the critical week. All this data will best serve
me next time - if I miscarry this time and get pregnant
again - when I see a new doctor. While the rollercoaster
is definitely nauseating, it is also comforting, even when
on the downswing.

Now on to my life...

A poster here commented about delaying my documentary
as if I'm on some high stress, physically exerting quest
to get the film made. Rest assured my days basically
consist of:

wake up, pee
let dogs out
eat breakfast
pee again
lay down and read (or watch TV or a movie)
pee
go on the computer for 20 minutes
take a nap
have lunch
pee
let the dogs out
lay down and read or write
take a nap
eat dinner
pee
sleep

Right now, documenting consists of bringing a
lightweight camera and tripod into the lab
during my blood tests (5 minutes). I want to
start doing a video diary - it will really help
me to express what I'm going through and
will be powerful for me to have it on tape.
I haven't started that yet, but am looking forward
to doing so.

I will spend a weekend with a girlfriend down
in Denver interviewing 6 women about their
miscarriages. My friend will do the heavy lifting.
I'll ask the questions and direct the lighting and
camera. I'm really looking forward to it. This
will be the first time I've spoken in person with
so many women about their miscarriages.

I've just started reading Jon Cohen's book
"Coming to Term." Yes, instead of reading
pregnancy books, I'm reading a miscarriage
book and so far, it is very interesting to me.

Anyway, we all deal with our life experiences
in our own way. I also only write about certain
things that are on my mind and not my entire
life, experiences or emotions. This is a great outlet
for me, and I appreciate the people who are here
for the ride. This rollercoaster is a little creaky
and wacky at times, but it sure is one hell of a ride!

Traffic on this blog has doubled in the last few
weeks. I think if this blog gives comfort or a laugh
or some valuable information to just one person,
I'm eternally grateful. It does me a world of good
to be writing in it. I picture my new blog someday
once a pregnancy sticks around. I have a name
picked out and everything. Funny how I'm naming
my baby blog but refuse to even think of naming
a baby.

As of now, this is still a pregnancy post. I'm not
being pessimistic or optimistic now. Just alive.

waiting again

well, it has been an odd 24 hours.

I decided not to wait on the ultrasound and to
get it done ASAP so went yesterday afternoon.
The hospital would not let me film the actual
procedure being done - only the empty room
before and after the procedure (liability reasons).

My friend drove me, and although I'm used
to doing these things by myself for the most part
(since a lot has happened while G. is in Alaska),
I was grateful to have someone else drive.
I had a raging headache and felt dizzy and weak,
like I was going to faint.

At first I was told the technician was going to be
male (Oh great, a guy with a condom-covered
wand, waving it around my crotch. The visual
did not appeal.) But luckily, it was an older
woman who turned out to be Native American.

Although technicians aren't supposed to diagnose
you, she was pretty verbal about what she saw
and didn't see.

First, it was not ectopic - there was clearly a
black spot - marble-sized - in the middle of
my uterus. She didn't give me an opinion at
that time, but I was looking for any sign
of anything inside the black spot and could
see nothing.

She wiggled the wand this way and that.
On the left side, as she photographed my
left ovary, it was tender and sore.

"You have a corpus luteum," she explained.

Finally, she admitted that while there was
a black spot, there was clearly nothing else
there - confirming to me that this was indeed
non-viable and I'd soon miscarry.

"I want to let my body do it naturally,"
I said.

"You should. You can do it," she encouraged.

I know I can do it. I've done it 3 other times,
each time less physically traumatic than the
time before, each time healing more quickly
on my own.

My mind was more calm once I knew for sure.
Okay, I know what to do. I'll just wait it out
this week then start taking care of things
in my own way. Having the knowledge was
less painful than having partial knowledge and
having big unknowns.

A few hours later, I called the nurse just to
see what they thought of the results. They had
not received them yet. I told her what I saw.

"Don't write it off yet," she insisted.

"But my numbers are low and there was nothing
in the gestational sac," I replied.

"It is too early to see a yolk in the sac and
way too early to see a heartbeat," she said.

"But my numbers didn't double, not even 50%
of doubling," I reminded her.

"I've seen worse. I once saw a woman whose
numbers actually went down and she went on
to have a healthy pregnancy."

"You're just saying that." I was annoyed because
I could not fathom why she'd still be hopeful at
this point. Do I not know my body? Are the signs
not clearly pointing toward another failed
pregnancy? She was really starting to piss
me off.

Why couldn't I be hopeful? Because I felt it was
false hope. But then I decided not to make any
final decisions about the state of my gestational
sac until I had some more levels done.

I also decided to pamper myself and scheduled
a massage for this week, acupuncture and for
next week, cranio-sacral technique which I've never
had before but it sounded interesting and potentially
helpful.

I finished reading Julia Indichova's book "Inconceivable,"
and it mentioned cranio-sacral technique. Also, she
talked a lot about positive visualization so I tried
a little bit of that, willing a healthy baby inside of
my womb. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.
(I feel like a fake but what the hell.)

This morning, I did some moxibustion like my acupuncturist
had shown me before. I have a little metal holder that
clamps onto a stick of moxa (mugwort), lit it like incense,
then rubbed the metal piece that was warmed by the
burning moxa down the side of my big toe. That is
supposedly the start of the chi meridian or something
like that. I love the smell of moxa - like a non-perfumy
incense and comforting.

Positive thoughts. Positive energy. (My bullshit
detector is going haywire but I'm trying to
ignore it.)

I'll get another hCG level done today and will have the
results later this afternoon. I'm visualizing 1200.

Yesterday, the nurse said she did not think I should
be documenting my pregnancy/possible miscarriage.
She thought it was keeping my mind on something
that I should not be thinking about too much.

I explained that this time around, I feel very
productive. Even if I am going through a
miscarriage, it is important to document it because
it will be part of my film and will help other women.
Concentrating on it is my way. Other women would
prefer to avoid it - I confront it head on.

"I'm weird that way," I explained.