...but it didn't.

All over (more or less) the day before yesterday - a morning of gentle cramping with one or two "ouch" ones, and two lumps of gestational sac slithered out, about 20 minutes apart, around lunchtime. Since then, there's been the usual period-like aftermath, with a few bigger clots and one more suspicious lump today, following a bit more cramping; so, physically, a miscarriage at 6 1/2 weeks is even easier than one at rising 8 weeks, in my experience.
Mentally, who knows? The miscarriage was about 2 hours before I put my beloved old dog to sleep (see other blog), and she was a far more significant part of my life, obviously, so the emotions I may or may not be feeling about the miscarriage are buried in my sorrow at losing Copper. I think that the predominant feeling is one of closure, actually: the weekend was the end of an era in so many ways. That ship has sailed; I can truely say I hope I'm never pregnant again, which is not something I could have said a couple of months ago, so if this last debacle has helped me move on in a more focussed way, then maybe it wasn't so futile as all that, after all.

This one could run and run..

No coloured discharge at all today, but coffee tastes just like normal, so I am quite sure this is the sign of doom. Breasts still tender, though; this strange state of stasis could go on for weeks, though I hope it doesn't. Mentally, I am switched right off the whole thing, and am surprised to realise, for example from a bout of overwhelming fatigue this afternoon, that my body in many ways still thinks it's pregnant. Oh well, this too shall pass, I suppose, sooner or later. If there has been no change when term starts, I'll go and get a scan to check what's going on, but I do hope I don't have to do that.

On my way out, again

Back on coffee; brown discharge and a flicker of blood, this morning, so now it's only a matter of time, and please God it won't be too bad, as I'm only just over 6 weeks, But still sore breasts, so not today, I don't think.

A sign - of what?

Well, we spent a lovely New Year seeing various friends, and I was pretty careful about alcohol etc, just in case this is a viable pregnancy, but not totally abstemious, because I think the chance of that is really rather small, and a teetotal new year AND a third miscarriage is just so, so grim. I continued to vary between thinking that really things might be viable after all and being sure they won't be; my breasts are still pregnant-looking and pretty tender but not getting more so, just staying the same; coffee is nasty but not vomit making; in fact, there is a moderate amount of feeling a bit queasy but no severe nausea at all, which I don't think is a good thing. And this afternoon there was a smidgeon of pink discharge. Now, I know quite well that that might mean nothing at all, but it's hardly encouraging. And it is so much better to think negatively in this situation, and be prepared for the worst, that that's what I am doing. It's a terrible nuisance that I have children in tow for the next 10 days, because I can't get a scan without farming them out, which is tricky without an explanation; and somehow I feel that in 10 days I'll know quite well what's going on. I am trying to be Zen like and calm about it all; and sometimes I can; and sometimes I can't.