Is Friday ever going to come? I spent last night weeping, and today trying to accept that this pregnancy is probably over. I know that our doctor gave it a 50/50 chance, but I think she’s wrong. We watched her using the ultrasound wand and doing the measuring, and she was thorough.
After reading tons of stories and looking at medical sites, I have come to the unofficial but reasonable conclusion that unless one’s conception dates are off (ours is very clear) or the technician measured wrong (she didn’t) there will be no catch up. Even if there is a catch up, the delayed growth (as severe as 12 days behind) really indicates a problem.
Yes, there could be a miracle. But you know what? There won’t be.
At first I thought I was just being pessimistic in an attempt to protect myself. I am familiar with that feeling during difficult waits. This is different. This is my gut backed by research, not whispering but shouting “something is wrong” with the baby or fetus, or whatever it is. This is me listening not just to what our doctor said but how she said it. This is me listening to my wife, who completely agrees with me.
I am left feeling like an idiot for embracing this pregnancy with my whole heart.
I am already looking at the calendar. Finding the likely date when we can try again. Which is in July. Fucking July. Motherfucking July. To.start.over. I’m going to jump (not really). I hate this. Hate.