So it turns out I do have 1 copy of the MTHFR gene, but my homocystine is very low, so that means I doing a great job of metabolizing folic acid, and am therefore not clotting overly enthusiastically from that malady. Neither do I have the cardiolipin dealie, so basically we are back to "Gee, we have really no idea why you aren't getting pregnant, and no idea why you miscarried." Argh.
I did manage to regain my calm, about Thursday, so that was good. But I realized yet another way that grief had infiltrated my daily living: I had not done anything beyond the minimal paperwork at work so that I could avoid writing any of the days of the month of July. As I started to do one task which required that I write 7/3/08 over and over, I realized I was reliving that morning and afternoon over and over again. It helped to at least recognize that and then I could push through and do some of the more complex stuff that was weighing me down, and contributing to the feeling that I couldn't catch up.
Over the last 4 days I've been digging my way through paperwork at work, and all of the receipts, credit card offers and things to file that have literally be threatening to fall of my desk at home. It felt good.
Ok, so that is a bit dramatic, but ya know, you are having a cleansing experience, and feeling like you are going to really make some headway and put the IF and M/C in perspective and just do your best to enjoy the next 6 weeks? Yeah, well, if you want to do that, don't decide to attend your 20th high school reunion. Oh, and don't spend an hour looking at the class website with all of your classmates and their adorable pictures of their adorable children. That is a recipe for a pity party. I went to run some errands and get a mani/pedi and the whole time I was about 10 steps from the verge of tears. This was yet another occasion I had imagined being at pregnant. Crap. So I came home, told my husband I was having a pity party, and even felt bad because I know my single friends were having their own pity parties about their singleness and there were probably pity parties going on all over town about one thing or another. Heck, were in our late thirties, there has been some shit that has transpired. So I told myself to suck it up, and got myself together. So, it was a short pity party, and I actually had a really fabulous time with some people I knew pretty well, and others I didn't, and myself and another guy put ourselves in charge of name tags and so for the whole party I was carrying around a sharpie and a clutch of name tags and having a grand time--give me a job and I am the life of the party. No job and I'm still making a spectacle of myself.
The pity party was also in part about feeling old looking and frumpy and feeling like everyone else would look so great. Yeah, no so much. On the whole, there were a lot of receding hairlines, some really slim and lovely ladies, many of them hotter than in high school, and then a lot of gals like me: pretty faces, but holding extra pounds on the hips. WHOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Not the only one wearing a double digit pants size. Yeah, I'm shallow and petty, I admit it.