Thank you all for the support yesterday. I read and absorbed every one of your comments and am trying so hard to focus on the fact that even if I could not see it, other people saw a heartbeat. The very depressing site Miscarriageassociation.org.uk says that I have lots of hope:
Research has shown that if you see a heartbeat at 6 weeks of pregnancy, the chances of the pregnancy continuing are 78%.
A heartbeat at 8 weeks increases the chance of a continuing pregnancy to 98% and at 10 weeks that goes up to 99.4%.
I have dug to hell-and-back trying to find science that says if your baby is measuring behind at 6 weeks the chance of miscarriage jumps xx% but I can’t. If you have found it, kindly keep it to yourself – I don’t want to know. I’m going to stick with the 78% statistic which is the best chance of pregnancy I have ever had.
I have been planning to spend the coming weekend in Birmingham with my girlfriends and their families. I miss these friends more than I can convey in a blog post – they have ALWAYS been there to pick me up when I fall. Last night I tried to catch one friend via Skype to cancel; I didn’t want to drive 6 hours just to cry in their houses. This morning my parents left, though, and all that is left are my cats. I think I need some humans. So, assuming the ‘Bama ladies don’t mind a soggy Belle, I think I’m going to make the drive.
I also think I need to step away from blogging for a while. I feel so guilty doing this, but… the more I read about all these exciting BFPs and all these fabulous heartbeats and ultrasounds, the more I worry I am going to be that miscarriage statistic. I hate to write this, but we all know it, there have been to many positives. Statistically, someone will lose. Right now, it is taking every ounce of my being not to collapse under the weight of “It might be me.”
Until my next post, if you are interested in adopting sweet Small Fry, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll post again after the next ultrasound.