Let's hope that the third time I attempt to write this post, I actually get far enough to post it, I keep having to rush off to put out some fire somewhere.
There is lots of good news to celebrate. The bleeding has been gone for about 5 days now and no further signs or spots. I did a fast 30 minute walk yesterday, and although I felt a bit crampy afterwards, the fetus seems to have come to no harm. I'm feeling fine other than getting regular headaches, which impede my ability to work but clearly aren't life-threatening. I listened to the heartbeat a few days ago and although it was a bit hard to find because mine kept getting in the way, I could hear it underneath and eventually got a good enough signal to luxuriate in for a minute or two. So thank you so much for all your support, we seem to have pulled through this time.
The bad news we received a day or so ago is that one of my colleagues's pregnancy has ended, at around 24 weeks based on my estimates. She just sent a very brief email saying it had happened and she didn't want to talk about it. I feel absolutely awful for her and her husband. I know many of you have experienced late losses, and I am perhaps only starting to appreciate just how appalling it must be, perhaps particularly when the baby is on the boundary of viability. I don't know what caused this loss, I just know it happened. I sent her a brief note saying I was sorry for her loss. And that's all I can do really. This isn't someone I know well, and she sort of reports to me so I don't want to impose on her or her privacy. Any suggestions as to whether there is anything else I could do?
It's made me reflect again on how differently I feel about pregnancy now than I would have done had we succeeded when we first started trying. Although I am a worrier, so perhaps it would always have been hard for me. But surely I would not have always been so acutely aware of everything that can go wrong, of Kay's loss at 20 weeks, of all of Patience's late losses, of Liana and Mason and Ziggy, of Manuela, Attila and Shoelet. And now my colleague. The losses don't weigh me down the whole time, I am happy often. I am sometimes even optimistic. I am revelling in thinking that we might have a baby in September. But yesterday night at Seder my cousin and her sister and all the others there were telling me how much they wanted to welcome our baby at next year's Seder, and how old did I think he/she had to be before they could pass on the burden of asking the questions from their own grandchildren. It was lovely, but it utterly freaked me out. It really does seem to be counting chickens. I don't really believe in tempting fate, and I do want to enjoy this, but I cannot forget how easily this joy can be taken away. It's not diminishing the joy I feel from time to time, but it is a millstone around my neck, constantly reminding me that happy now doesn't necessarily mean happy later.
I know this is utterly unoriginal, and has been written about ad nauseam by many others before me. But it's still my reality. I'm fantastically lucky to be here. I've had a really pretty uneventful pregnancy so far. Nothing seems to be wrong with the fetus. Long may that continue. Please let it continue!
Next OB appointment is on Thursday. I'm going to discuss the travel ban with him as I do really need to go to one meeting in the US in about 2 week's time. If he says no, well, then I won't go. But it will be tough.