Here I am, sitting in a medical cafe waiting on my husband’s down, trying not to have a complete meltdown.
This is my first IUI since the termination, and the last time I was in this building, I was having my abortion.
This is the building where my daughter’s “life” began and ended.
Of course, the first thing that hours me when I walk in are the maternity stores, showing off fashionable pregnant mannequins. I have to force myself to look at the ground and breath deeply. Calm. Calm. Calm. I can do this.
I walked through the revolving doors trying not to remember December or January, but how can I forget it? Maybe I should take my last anxiety pill? But maybe I should save it for Mother’s Day, or maybe my EDD next month.
No. I can do this. I’m going to enjoy my breakfast and think positive tapioca thoughts.
Edit: DH wanted to stop by the office where we had the surgery to check and see what our insurance status is. I went with him. I held it together! The nurse even said I looked really well. I got the impression she remembered me – DH says she was the one who say with me when I had my vasovagal response.