Though I still think about what happened every free moment, it's starting to devastate me less. I can think logically, and without crying. The problem now is that I can't stop trying to find causes or answers as to the big, fat WHY that is eating me up inside. I've Googled and Googled and read through blogs, forums, medical journals, grief websites...in short, the works. So, why would I go into labor in the second trimester during an otherwise healthy pregnancy?
Could be cervical incompetence. Maybe I have fibroids, or a clot that caused a bleed, irritated my uterus, and caused me to go into labor. Maybe I have a symptomless uterine infection.
My first investigation appointment is on June 22nd, and I can barely wait.
Sometimes, when I get ahead of myself, I think about how fall is a nice time to conceive. I'll have waited the requisite 3 months (the average minimum recommended waiting time) yet not longer than 6 months (recent studies have shown higher success rates the sooner couples try again...the longer they wait, the less successful their attempts are).
Then I remember that my husband may not be here. If he's in Sudan, and I get put on bedrest or God forbid, have yet another miscarriage, who would take care of Salam? Who would bring groceries? The least that could be said is that bedrest would be out of the question. But if I got admitted to the hospital, Salam would be alone. That can't happen.
I hate that none of this is in my hands. I hate that I don't know when my husband will be going and when he will be returning. I wish those fuckers who make these decisions would at least give us a ballpark figure.
In other news, Salam had croup (or something like it) last week. Now he's teething his molars. Poor kiddo isn't eating a whole lot. I'm pushing the fluids though, so at least he's happy on that count. It's been a hell of a month.
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