Fate has taken the upper hand and has knocked me down with another blow. The results from all of my last ultrasounds, blood tests, and amnio, have not been good. This baby, whom I've carried with me for over four months, will not likely join us in our world.
I think I'm doing okay now. I did my hardest crying even before the final results came in. I think I already knew. When doctors whisper to each other thinking you understand their French, or when they postpone giving you information, you get a little suspicious. Even back in February in California, when I found out I was pregnant, I was less than optimistic about how this pregnancy was going to go. I didn't bring back any of my old maternity clothes. I didn't bring back any baby clothes or supplies like I was originally planning. I don't think this is a confirmation of psychic powers, but I do have some premonitions once in awhile.
It's a horrible sound -- the sound of a mother grieving the loss of a child. I hear myself crying and I find the sound so different from any other crying I've done. It's a dark, soulful, agonizing cry from deep within me. It's a sound I never would have been able to create before my other pregnancy in France.
Two times. Some higher power does not want me to have a baby in France. One rare case after another. Completely independent of each other. Utterly unrelated. Why do these things happen? I'm only sane right now because I follow the same philosophy John has, "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst." I knew if I got overly optimistic, it would be a much harder fall if bad news came.
I do appreciate everyone's positive thoughts and e-mails. Just knowing that you're thinking of me and caring about me helps me considerably -- especially when feeling isolated in a foreign country.
After my suffering is done, I feel I'll need to start my life all over again. Maybe do something completely different. This place is beginning to hold too many bad memories for me.