Reality is setting in here at the hospital.
As usual, it was a real PITA to get in here before the lab closed at 8:30 AM. The rush hour traffic always starts blowing at 6:30, and for every minute I leave after that, it adds 2-3 minutes to my drive time. Sleep was fitful last night, so it was exceedingly hard to get up early and I finally got on the road at 6:45. Not a great start.
Nevertheless, I made it there in time for the vampires to take my blood. They instructed me to go home and wait for the results. If I needed an ultrasound to rule out an ectopic, I’d come back tomorrow morning.
The prospect of having to do this sh*t again tomorrow morning was too much for my tired, impatient, grieving self to handle. I almost lost it in the waiting room but managed to keep down 95% of the percolating emotions. The nurse took pity on me and put a rush on the blood work so that I can wait here and do the ultrasound today if I need to. She thinks, however, that given my history, this is just another embryo dying of chromosomal abnormality. I guess that is a relief.
Last night I think reality started setting in a little for K. I was wondering if any of you ladies have advice on how to help a husband grieve? My strategy thus far has been to let him zone out with video games until he is ready to talk, usually about 3-4 days later, and then his grief usually takes the form of being frustrated by something else.