Ninapintasantamaria's Blog











{February 20, 2009}   February 20th.

This time last year, I was blissfully unaware I was already pregnant.  I had conceived 10 days earlier.  I’d just turned 29.  This time last year, I was full of hope for the future.  I was so excited about trying for a baby.  I never dreamed I’d have an anencephalic pregnancy, or ever be infertile.  My family is huge!  And everybody is fertile.  Hell, some of them are so fertile, they had babies before they even got married, or had jobs, or graduated high school!  My one pregnancy was a miracle, and it got taken away.  I don’t understand, and I’m so scared it’ll happen again.  I can’t do this again.  I simply can’t .  Please God, make this happen for me.  Please help me get pregnant.  And have the baby.  And get to watch it grow up healthy and strong.  Please take away my fear and my envy of others.  I know I’m coveting, which is a sin, but could you help me with that too?  I’m sorry for screaming, cussing, hollering, and being pissed off in general, but I need help with all of that too.  I want so badly to feel her moving inside me again.  I want to feel happy again.  I want to feel hopeful and excited again.  My husband keeps talking about a really great vacation this year and I just don’t care.  It seems like no big thing since we can’t take the baby with us.  It just seems like my life is worthless without a baby.  I don’t know why.  It wasn’t that way before.  I was so happy and bubbly and fun before all this happened.

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{February 20, 2009}   No news.

I got told by at least 4 people today that I’d lost sooo much weight and looked really good.  This was sweet, but I’d really rather be so pregnant I can’t bend over.  Oh well.  Oh yeah, and no word on the Clomid from the insurance company.

Today I worked in Dr. B’s room again.  He started doing that thing I hate when I ask him a question about a specimen and he ignores me because he’s “concentrating.”  Yeah, whatever.  He’s sewing the skin.  He can do that and talk at the same time, I’ve seen him.  So, finally, after several attempts at getting a response and getting nothing accomplished, I told him “I’m sending the offending appendage to pathology.  What would you like me to call it?  [cricket….cricket]  “Ok.  No problem.  I’ll just make something up.  Yep, I’m calling it Clarence.  And yes, I’m sending it to the lab like that.”  The whole room cracked up.  He turned around and gave me “the look.”  Then he grinned, and finally answered me.  (Teach him to ignore me.  I’ll show him……)



et cetera