Still Backsliding, but at Least Not in an OR

Got the call today--hCG levels are at 24.3 seventeen days post miscarriage.

According to my OB, this is good, normal, and we are still on track. The goal is ultimately 2, but apparently this is progress (and also why my home PT showed positive). 

She has cleared me for all normal activities--swimming, Golds Fit, running, jumping, etc. I feel elated by that news. I am ready to hit the gym and give myself some kind of purpose again. I am all ready with my new Vera Bradley gym bag and umpteen Sparkle Skirts (you know, the skirts I threw myself into over the past 3 weeks as I awaited news in complete anxiety fashion). 

I am ready to get back to my new normal. I don't want to lose who I've become. I really enjoyed the strength of grieving Emily. I want her back. I need to channel that energy, strength, and inner peace. I need to remember not to take crap from people around me. To keep saying no. And to do things that make me happy. To focus on me, my desires, my body, and my health.

Guess what, bitches, this new life? It's mine. I'm claiming it. No one else gets it. My husband gets a say, my family gets my time and love. But I am the final decider of what happens. What I say goes. And what I say is that I'm tired of being a stepping stone for others. I'm tired of being kicked around and jerked around and generally tossed aside. I am angry, yes. But not at you. Not at my friends. Not at anyone except me. I've spent 27 years playing supporting actress in my life. It's time to step into the spotlight. I am no longer standing by. I am doing what makes sense. I am taking charge. YES, I need to slow down a bit as I run to the edge of this self defining cliff and leap, but I'm still leaping. For better or worse, I'm diving head first into the unknown of the future. 

I will apologize, but I will not ask permission anymore. 


And yes, our friends had their baby last night. I cried when I saw it. I am sad. Dammit, I am SO sad. And empty. But there's no where to go but forward. Hand-in-hand with my husband. There's no looking or going back. There's only the next month, week, day, hour, minute, second, and breathing and leaning confidently into the people we want to become. 

No surgery. Not yet. Time to start over. 

-Emily
Que sera sera.