What I meant to say was...

I meant to say that the OB nurse called me back yesterday and told me that my hcg levels on Monday were 164 and on Wednesday they were 41.  Miscarriage officially confirmed.  BUT!  Oh yes, there is a but.  But, I have to go back for a THIRD blood draw one day next week so they can confirm that my levels are negative (zero?  it seems like they should be zero.  how do you get negative hormone levels?), and oh, by the way, don't have intercourse until after we've confirmed those negative(?) levels.

WTF?

Come on, lady, I'm finally done bleeding out what I thought was going to be our first, our only, child, and you're telling me now I can't even get some of that good ol' fashioned comfort for another week?  After what has been the most emotionally traumatic, the most horrifically gross, the saddest experience of my life, I can't fuck out some frustrations?  Damn, you're mean. And your stupid lab tech will probably have to stick me twice to find the vein.  Again.  This shit sucks.  You could at least offer me a 2 week script for some xanax or something.

Shit.

But seriously, despite that little rant, I'm good.  I'm finding the silver lining.  One is that I was able to finish off that bag I bought right before I found out I was pregnant.  (HA!  Lame stoner humor is funny.)

On a more serious note, Jimi reconnecting with his sister is an awesome repercussion of this pregnancy.  I discovered that quitting smoking and drinking is pretty freakin' easy when you have to.  And to get ready to try to do this baby-making thing again, I'm going to have to quit my substance-abusing ways.  That can only be a good thing.  Jimi's motivated to get his ass moving, and he motivates me like nothing else can, so that will be a brilliant plus for us both, and for our future.  We have time now to focus on paying off our debts and getting more money stashed away, and we have a focus to keep us on target and help us reach our goals.  This feels like it's woken us up to a new level of what we want from our lives, from our life together.  And as ridiculous as it may sound, it does give me some comfort to know that if our timing is right, we can totally get pregnant.  I'd been unsure.  It happened once, though...we can do it again.  And we'll be ready next time.  We'll do it right.  And we'll live happily ever after.

I was only consciously pregnant for seven days.  The sadness is more of a whisper already.  Jimi's love, my family's love, the love from my friends, the understanding from my work family...it reminds me of how much good there is in my life.  I have so much already, anything more is just icing on the cake.  I only like a little icing on my cake.  Just a little.  Maybe a rose or two.

So there ya go.  I'm pretty sure this is going to be my last miscarriage post.  I'm totally returning to my regularly scheduled boring blogging.  Of course, this is probably pretty boring to most anyone who reads it, so I guess I'm still true to my title.  Either way, I never made any promises.