Greetings, KuKd Strong Mommas and Inquisitive Guests!
Thank you, again, for your brilliantly kind words.
One of my least favorite things about this was having to be faced with options. That is, being forced to THINK about something. It's not that I don't like thinking; it's just that in this case, what I really wanted to do was lie on the sofa, sip wine, let Kevin pull my toes apart (one of the strange things I take pleasure in, although it makes my friend KD cringe in horror), and pretend this whole thing never happened.
If only I lived in a forest tribe or a rural developing part of the world, where I wouldn't HAVE any options to choose from! I would have plodded happily along until one day - boom! - I'd start bleeding, and I'd know right away because that something was wrong, and it would all come out of me, and it would be over. There would be lots of elderly tribal women around to slather me with ancient wisdom about this occurrence, and boil me teas made from special leaves. In the end, I wouldn't be fretting and blogging and philosophizing over it; I would just go on with my life, accepting that there are things beyond my control, lugging buckets of water up from the river and milking cows, and doing other developing-rural-parts-of-the-world types of activities. I'd be kind of sad, but ultimately accepting of Mother Nature's plan and then we'd try again. Wouldn't I?
But not here. No, no, no. Things aren't so easy in the modern Western world. Why should they be easy, when we have Google and forums and websites and -yes- blogs, and fretful (not to mention oh-so-informed) mothers and friends and colleagues and neighbors who read those forums and websites and blogs, plus doctors and nurses and specialists of various sorts, all spewing forth options upon options upon options, reasons upon reasons, questions upon questions, advice upon advice, forcing us to think, and ultimately choose? Nope, there's no just hanging out in the back yard and picking daisies when something like this happens. There's no ignoring the force of the modern advice-and-reasons-and-questions-and-options complex.
My options were,in a nutshell:
1)The Good Person, Earth Loving, Organic Free-Range Method for People of Stellar Character, Astonishing Patience, and a Strong Connection to & Appreciation For the Natural World, Unlike Those Materialistic Orange County Bank CEO Wives Living in McMansions and Driving SUVS and Spending Five Hundred Bucks for Hair Highlights While Impoverished Inner-City Children Kill Each Other Method (sometimes known as the Too Lazy to Make a Decision Method): just let myself miscarry naturally.
My thoughts on this method: well, if I knew it would take a day or two, or even a week, okay. But then you look at stories like this: what if that little innocent-seeming gestational sac grows to melon-sized proportions before your gullible old body figures out it's been had? Sorry dude, but this belly does not need and extra assistance in being...shall we say...rotund.
2) The Knife-Happy, Ultra-Invasive, Quick-n-Easy, Down-n-Dirty Method: the D&C. It's like the miscarriage version of planning a C-section "just because it feels better."
My thoughts on this method: I did think about it briefly, but when the doctor warned me that it could cause things like tearing or scarring or poking or bleeding or other undelightful things, I decided against it. So what if it's "rare" for such bad things to happen. The word "rare" doesn't mean much to me anymore. Stillbirth is "rare." KuKdX3 is "rare." So screw that word.
3) The Middle Ground, a Little-Less-Scary-and-Invasive-Seeming-Yet-Not-Totally-
Hippy-Dippy-Natural Method: Marvelous Misoprostol!
Ahh, Misoprostol. Four happy, innocent little octagon-shaped pills with what looks like a Roman emperor's head engraved on the front of each one. All you do is take them in the prescribed method, which I won't divulge here, wait a while for it to kick in, load up on pain meds, and boom: mass exodus of that damn blighted ovum and its peripheral accessory gunk. Easy!
I chose this benign-seeming option, pleased to not be living in a forest tribe so that I actually HAD this option, and happy to have an excuse to stay home in my pajamas, watch movies all day, and be excused from doing any errands or chores. Sort of like having a wicked hangover on Saturday morning. It was even a bit of cold and drizzly day, perfect for cozying up in the TV room with some butter popcorn.
It wasn't until minutes AFTER I took the pills (of course) that I read the instructions packet, which I didn't think needed reading, since my doctor had told me (I thought) all I needed to know. It was then that I read that Misoprostol isn't so innocent after all. The warning packet said something to the effect of, and I'm paraphrasing here:
BY THE WAY, NOW THAT MISOPROSTOL IS INSIDE OF YOUR BODY AND BEING ABSORBED, YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT IT CAN CAUSE HORRIBLY NASTY INFECTIONS, EXPLOSIVE DIARRHEA, PROJECTILE VOMITING, CRAMPS THAT FEEL LIKE DEREK JETER IS WHACKING YOUR PELVIS WITH AN ALUMINUM BASEBALL BAT, AND UTERINE RUPTURE THAT WILL MAKE YOUR INSIDES TO LEAK OUT BETWEEN YOUR LEGS AND PREVENT YOU FROM EVER HAVING CHILDREN EVER IN YOUR LIFE, EVER. IN FACT, YOU'RE AN IDIOT FOR EVEN TAKING THIS STUFF, BUT NOW THAT YOU'VE DONE IT, THERE'S NO GOING BACK. DAMN, I'M SURE GLAD I'M JUST A PAID TECHNICAL WRITER IN THE MEDICAL FIELD, WORKING OUT OF SOME DREARY OFFICE BUILDING IN NEW JERSEY, AND NOT YOU. I'D HATE TO BE YOU, STUCK TAKING MISOPROSTOL LIKE SOME HAPLESS FOOL. YOUR LIFE SUCKS. CALL YOUR DOCTOR IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS.
As of today, everything has been "expelled" as planned, and none of the above has happened, that I know of. See - I told you the odds would swing back in my favor at some point. ;-)