Aunt Flo came to visit this morning. Right after my intense morning workout, it came in a gush and smothered my hopes for the month. This happened right after I took another pregnancy test this morning and got an ambiguous answer. There was just enough of a hint of line to make me want to go out and get another test for the next morning. After seeing that, I was pretty sure in my mind that I was probably pregnant. Any line at all in a pregnancy test is supposed to be taken as a positive result, and, adding that in with my weird symptoms, I figured this was the month for us.
Then my period came. I didn't cry. I wasn't even really disappointed when I first saw it. It was more than twice as much blood as I normally have on my first day, and I've never cramped for four days before I began bleeding either. Adding it all up, I figure I probably just had a spontaneous abortion. My body rejected the zygote, or it died on its own. Either way, I think I had been pregnant momentarily, and now I wasn't. It was for the best though. A spontaneous abortion most often happens when there is a serious problem, and I would not have wanted to carry the pregnancy out any further. It was all very logical at the moment.
Then, the crying happened. I realized that even though I understand scientifically what happened, and I know beyond a doubt that this was the better outcome, I still have a flood of hormones and emotions associated with it to deal with. I still have to let myself mourn the baby I really wanted, and have been waiting for. It's okay to be upset that this journey, which is becoming a bit stressful, isn't over yet. It's understandable that I'm upset that the Thanksgiving baby that I thought I'd have isn't going to be here.
I hate crying. It's just not something I often feel okay doing. But it's okay today. Today I will mourn, and tomorrow I will start preparing to try again.
