Today is CD1.
Yep, you heard it right. I just had a seventeen day cycle. A new record, even for me. Didn't even get to fail a very expensive drug store pregnancy test.
Plus, this is a two year anniversary of sorts for me. In September of 2004, I had a very late miscarriage at 16 weeks. That pregnancy was, I believed, my last chance at a live baby. And when the ultrasound revealed that my daughter had died, no heartbeat, no movement, I lost it.
I knew I had to find out what happened, and get a diagnosis, so I had them send off a chromosome sample to the lab, and had my daughter's remains and the placenta sent to the US placental pathologist I had hired. She did her report, I read the email version and we discussed the results over the phone. The nightmare report where my perfectly formed fetus with perfect organs, had a massively clotted half-dead placenta on the mother's side of the chorionic plate. It was my fault, my genetic clotting defect that suffocated her.
The written report, and her remains arrived two years ago today in the mail. Yes, her body was sent to my house instead of back to the hospital or to the funeral home. (And yes, at 16 weeks there is most definitely a body...) No one would help us, no one would come pick the remains up, eventually my husband had to drive the remains of his own daughter to a funeral home, and then arrange for her burial and the funeral.
December 28 is officially the shittiest day on the calendar in our house.