Wednesday, July 18, 2012

(insert curse word)

Since what Making Babies calls my "early pregnancy loss" and what others may term "chemical pregnancy" or the charming "disintegration":

  • I ordered an ass-ton of new vitamins. Because what if vitamins are the problem? Sure.
  • I rescheduled a physical with the fertility clinic. Blah blah I hate everything. 
  • A woman from the clinic told me "we don't test for progesterone" when I suggested that might be the problem. She is dead now because I killed her. 
  • I composed a list of tests I want done, including progesterone testing. I am bringing it to my next appointment. If they won't order them, I am blowing the place up. Which I think is perfectly reasonable. 
  •  My dominating emotion this go-round has been anger, if that's not readily apparent. I'm a true joy to be around. 
  • I'm still not talking about it. I don't want to talk about it. After the first miscarriage I talked the fuck out of it and now if I have to talk about it I might hurt someone. 


  1. I hope you didn't attend the funeral for the woman that you killed. She deserved it.

    When I miscarried, I also wondered about progesterone. Thought if I was lucky enough to get pregnant again, as soon as I knew I was pg, I'd demand a progesterone check. Yeah, that never happened.

    I'm sorry this happened. Keep up the good work. Annihilate all the stupid asses.

  2. You have my permission to kill anyone who looks at you sideways, or frontways, or backwards, or cross-eyed.

  3. Find someone, any one, a fucking hobo, to test you for progesterone. And ask your doctor why they won't do it. It is such a simple fix!

  4. Find a new office. Don't even bother to get invested with these yahoos if they don't do something as simple as a progesterone test. The more visits you make with a frustrating provider, the more homicidal you're going to be.

    I'm speaking out of experience.

  5. That doesn't frustrates me. I deal with it as a test.

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