What a crap-tastic day

My due date buddy had her baby boy today, or maybe last night at some point. Not really sure - she might still be in labor I guess. All I really know is that she went into labor yesterday...so much so that she went to the Dr.'s office and no one's heard from her for a while so I'm guessing it wasn't a false alarm. Despite living 1000 miles away from her now, I knew the moment she went into labor because of her husband's posts on FB. Now I don't know if he's been born because I'm scared to even log onto FB today. Or ever again. Afraid to check my email.

This is the same friend who got pregnant on her FIRST cycle trying. And who told everyone on earth at 7 weeks (no u/s, just two lines - amazing what a pee stick can still mean to some people). I was six weeks at the time and couldn't wait to tell her - to share the journey together. Then, after all that's happened, she had the nerve to go into labor on her exact due date! We weren't all that close to begin with though and now just thinking about her causes so much bitterness to well up inside that I'd prefer just to not.

I thought the birth of this baby would be the worst for me. I thought now maybe the worst would be over. But I'm starting to realize that, until I have my own little one, every milestone for him will be just as bad as all the pictures, FB updates, and experiences (including the birth) up until now. When the kid gets dressed up for his first outing. When I see pictures of him with adoring grandparents and uncles and aunts. When I see the mom with her stroller, her nursery, her new life, the new father and son. All of it will be just as bad as finding out she was in labor. But finding out she was in labor wasn't so bad I guess. I'm doing quite fine considering. Have I had better days? Sure. But I can handle it. Just after this one more beer.


AF is late. She was due to arrive this morning according to my pre m/c cycles: 30 days, AF arrives first thing in the morning, no if's and's or but's. Ever. Until now... I'm tempted to call Dr. OBG back and ask her what the real HCG number was on Tuesday. I don't trust her, if that hasn't already been made perfectly clear. Maybe it was five and she said zero anyway so I wouldn't worry (I'm not being paranoid, this is her way). A higher HCG would explain AF being late. I don't want to find out in a month that my levels have really be creeping up slowly and are now in the twenties all of the sudden and she was just afraid to tell me. I really don't like Dr. OBG. My second opinion office still hasn't called back. Looks like I will need to place another call if I really want to go down that route. And the first call wasn't pleasant. No one knew what to do with my request - I kept getting passed from one person to another and had to try to explain my drawn out and confusing and detailed situation to all of them.


DH got this look of disappointment on his face when I told him about getting a second opinion. It was a pained expression. And I knew what it meant before he even explained his point of view. He's afraid I'm getting my hopes up. Afraid that I actually expect some doctor out there to know what they're doing. To know what's wrong with me and how to advise me. He thinks I shouldn't expect it because it's not out there. And I realize maybe no one can tell me more than my current doctors. But even if that's true, there's something to be said for 'clicking' with your doctor. Trusting them. Feeling better after you get off the phone with them instead of worse. Getting on the phone with them in the first place. And just those things might be worth the upheaval that switching doctors would entail.