Crossed off my to-do list.

So, it's done.
I have crossed if off my bucket list.
(Although, it was never on my bucket list.)
But, it's crossed off anyways.
Have D&C.
Deliver stillborn.
See that, God?
Those are done.
Finito.
I don't need to do those again.
Ever.
(And neither does any other woman for that matter.)

via

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First, 
thank you.
For your prayers,
your well wishes,
your tears,
your thoughts.
Although many of you said that you didn't know what to say-
that was enough.
Seeing your name pop up as a comment
or come in my inbox
was enough.
It could have been a blank message for all I care.
But thank you.
You don't even know
what comfort I get from reading them.
And, I would maybe be a bit embarrassed to tell you how many times I have read all of them.
Over and over.
I'll just say, I've read them all more than twice.

Via

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Second,
how it went.
Everything went well.
As well as something like that can go.
I won't go into details of how the procedure was done
but if you're curious, go to goog.
Goog D&C and have fun.
It will give you more information than you ever need.
I am smart and have learned and did not goog it.
(I'd rather envision 
that the little thing trotted out of me on a golden chariot pulled by unicorns 
and followed the path of rainbow diamonds up to heaven.
It is now playing with Maggie and Uncle Dan.
Or something that is that awesome.
I will not think about what really, actually happened to love nugget.)

Thankfully, there were no complications
and things went smoothly.
The nurse walked me to the bathroom to change,**
Got in my sweet gown**,
got in the bed with the sweet puffer blow up heater plastic blanket thing,
got my iv in,
answered a gazillion questions,
talked to 92 nurses and doctors
and told each one that I was not allergic to latex.

Then, Dr. Grainger came in.
He hugged me.**
We had a list of questions for him,
(like "why the h does this keep happening?"
but I'll tell you about those in another post at some point)
and we got some answers.**

They rolled me out of my little room
and into the surgery room.
I remember them checking me in at 10:15.
Exactly.
Then they strapped both my arms down.**
I get why they do that
but it is still creepy.
Hannibal Lecterish.
Dr. Grainger came in.**
Then they gave me the sweet manna from heaven.
And, I was sleepy mush.
Thank goodness.

By 11ish I was back in my little room.
They gave me a Rho-gam shot (I'm A negative).
And, all I can say is I'm glad I was still a bit knocked out for that shot.
Those suckers hurt.
I laid there more
and became coherent enough to realize what was going on.**

By 11:30 we were in the truck heading home.

And, I feel good.
Physically.
The surgery was quicker and easier than the other 2 that I have had,
so things feel good.
My heart, no.
But, my lady parts.
Decent.

Via

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Third,
the aftermath.
When I got home our doorstep had some gifts.
Beautiful flowers from sister and her kids.
And, I wasn't surprised.
My sister is just awesome like that.
And a bag from my dear friend, AS-
some movies
and 2 Cokes.
Perfect therapy for me--she knows just what I like.
And the teeth/organ corroding beverage was delicious.

Pretty much, I've been on the couch ever since.
I've gotten up to eat and drink,
and feed Fatty.
My parents and aunt and uncle came over with dinner
and wonderful company.
For a shitty day, it was actually okay.

And, I decided that today I was not going to cry.
(By cry I mean wailing-gnashing-of-teeth cry, not pathetic-wimpy-cry.)
Because I'd done enough for today.
That will be on my list for other days (the next few hundred, I'm sure),
but I didn't want to do that.
Because, really, crying is an energy sucker
and I was kind of not ready to deal with all that today.
I did one major thing (like a freaking D&C),
I'll save the blubbering, heart-wrenching grieving for other days.
Now, don't get all psycho-babble-freaky on me and think that I'm not handling this well
and I'm not grieving appropriately
and I should just feel what I'm feeling.
Believe me, I have learned how to grieve over the past 10.5 months.
I know how the dealio of grief goes.
So, I didn't really grieve today.
I wasn't a *huge* mess.
Not because I couldn't be (in 0.07 seconds).
I just put it on the to-do list for later.
But, don't worry, I will.
One step at a time.
(Right, Jordin Sparks?)
((And don't even tell me that that song isn't a little catchy.))

And, just in case you still aren't consoled
and you're worried that my heart is becoming as cold as ice,
I did cry.
And, I documented all those times.
That's what the ** are above.
I cried a bit.
7 times, in fact.
Which, I think, is really good.
Only 7?
There's like 24 hours in a day.
That's not even 1/3 of the day that I cried.
Impressive, right?
But, it was the pretty kind of cry.
Not the gross kind.

Via

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Fourth,
the next few days/weeks/months.

I don't expect them to be like today.
I know it will hit me.
And I'll let it.
And I'll tell you when it does.
So that you know when to send extra little prayers up for me.
(I'm selfish like that).
It will hit me.
When I really stop.
And think.
And realize that September 7 is no longer a date that I need to remember.
And when I start making doctor's appointments again.
And when I realize that my nugget is gone.
When I realize my two babies have met.
And when I think about how my body failed a living being.
Again.
I'll grieve.
My heart will always have missing pieces.
And I will carry Maggie and nugget in my heart.
Always.

Via

To be continued...