Here I am, toodling along in life, thinking I'm such hot shit and all healed and healthy and all that nonsense. I go in to the lab to have my blood drawn and nearly have not one, but two meltdowns.
First, Steve takes pity on my sore ankle (which I re-hurt yesterday tripping on an entry rug at my office) and drops me at the door of the lab where they're going to draw my blood and do tests to figure out why my babies keep dying inside of me. Holy shit that's an awful sentence to type...to even think. But it's the hard truth, so I might as well get used to it, right? Anyway...I hop out of the minivan that I hate, close the door, take a step back to allow Steve to drive the minivan past, look to the left to see if there are any more cars coming, and see Dr. I (the doctor who delivered Travis).
Like any self-assured, healed and healthy woman would do, I looked down at my feet and hobbled into the building just as fast as humanly possible. What the hell?!?!? A smile and a hello would have killed me?!?!? A "thanks for taking such good care of me when I wasn't even your patient and was having the worst day of my life" would be out of the question?!?!? But nooooo...I ran like a scared little girl. And I could barely contain the tears as I stumbled my way into the building.
Then, after a brief wait in the waiting area, I sit down in the lab chair and overhear the lab techs talking ABOUT me. Never do they think to talk TO me. Bits and pieces I overhear are, "I don't know if I can do this...this one is 8 hours...so she's going to have to go downtown isn't she?...oh, I know what this one is for...(whispers that I couldn't hear, but I'm sure are about how it means multiple pregnancy loss and how sad it is)...I'm not sure, I've never had to do any fancy coag testing, just the regular stuff." OH MY GOD! I'm sitting there calling myself all sorts of freak and trying not to cry. Not to mention the fact that I'm having serious flashbacks to the last time I was in a lab for a blood draw to test my blood glucose BECAUSE I WAS PREGNANT! OH MY GOD! I WAS PREGNANT! And now I'm here getting the blood draw of a freak with no baby at all. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry...
I wasn't expecting it at all. The flood of emotions that just washed over me. I excused myself to the bathroom to breathe for a moment before Steve and I headed out again because I was really afraid I was going to fall apart on him in the car...and I know he doesn't need that. It's obviously all been hiding in there somewhere. The shame and embarrassment...the sadness and fear...the guilt. Have I just lost the ability to let it out? It's nothing I've done consciously...that I'm aware of anyway.
But now that I think about it, I do notice a difference in myself. Yesterday, someone I hadn't seen since before Travis died gave me "the look" and the sympathetic head tilt and asked, "How ARE you?" It used to be that I would look down, choke back the tears and say whatever few words I could manage to squeak out. But this time I looked her in the face and gave her some pat answer I can't even recall now. But I noticed her look change. She seemed almost shocked that I was doing well. And now I'm shocked at myself too. What an odd thing to realize about yourself...that you don't feel what you should feel.