I had my second ultrasound last Friday, and it was horrible. The baby has not grown and there is no sign of heartbeat. Dr Natasha will make the final prognosis this coming Friday. She's asked me to stop taking duphaston and told me that if I start bleeding, I should go to a hospital immediately. I was too upset to talk about it, my husband called up his aunt back in Delhi who said that chances of this pregnancy continuing are very low.
And just like that, all hope has frizzled out.
Everything seemed to be working out- I got pregnant in the first round of IUI, had found a nice maid which meant that I wouldn't need to do heavy household chores, job prospects seem positive which meant that I would be fruitfully (or not) engaged and wouldn't be obsessing about my pregnancy journey all the time.
Dr Natasha advised us to wait for 3 months before trying again. It was such luck that we got pregnant the first time we did IUI. Who knows that will happen the second time around? This seems like such a bad dream. I look at people around me and the happy updates on my Facebook feeds; it seems as if others have it so easy. That lovely bump and that pregnancy glow, a cherubic baby dressed in a sweet onsie, a toddler playing on the beach, grandparents looking delirious with joy, parents and sibling welcoming the new baby...
What I'm feeling is not guilt. I know that miscarriages in the first trimester are mostly caused by chromosomal defects. If that's the case, this baby was doomed from the time I conceived. What I'm feeling is immense sadness at the loss of a happy future and fear of what lies ahead of us.
