There are things you sometimes don't want to know.

I took a week off from work. I had to, I just couldn't handle it. I spent most of that week sleeping. Seriously. Came back to work and had all kinds of interesting issues, work may be giving me some *interesting* upheaval. Don't know what's going to happen.

But last week, I had the post-aunt-flo visit to the OB. She didn't actually do any physical exam, since AF had showed up almost exactly 4 weeks from the day I started to miscarry.

AF surprisingly took away a lot of the hormonal outbursts, at least temporarily.

Thing is, they started up all over again. At least my hip is feeling better.

But talking to the doc, she got the results back from the hospital as to what the chromosomal testing yielded. Karyotyping got back a 47.XX.+16. Trisomy 16. Otherwise known as "incompatible with life". So no matter what I did, she was doomed.

Yes, I said she. I had a little baby girl. I was right.

That's when the floodgates opened up again.

It's been better than it was before AF, but still not exactly an easy time. I keep breaking into tears at inopportune moments. My doctor wants me to see a therapist (tomorrow, in fact). I went to see my neuro, and he wants me to see a psychiatrist, since this has been interfering with work so much. i don't want to have to go on meds, but at the same time I don't want to lose my job. I was starting to get depressed from early on, the pregnancy loss just increased the depression 10fold and more. Joe has been incredibly patient (okay, there are times when he hasn't been, but they've been few and far between compared to his norm, and he needs a stress reliever too).

In the last five weeks, I've had a miscarriage, my favorite college professor died, a relatively close friend died, and with work and life just getting in the way, I can't focus, and it seems like nothing wants to give me a break. Well, work is changing, but at least they don't want to can my ass, for which I can be grateful.

Jim wants to talk to me tomorrow. It started out as a simple "I want to get to gether with you" and turned into a "good lord Jim, you really don't want to talk to me right now" because he won't let it go. I suppose it's both good and bad. I can't deal with him talking to me about it at work, I'm about to break into tears. At the same time, he's very familiar with depression, and generally knows what not to say. I don't know.

There's so much more I want to say here, but at the same time I don't want to get myself further upset.

This week is the first O after the miscarriage, at least, from what I can see. So if we want to get pregnant this month, we need to start tonight, and for that, I need to not be upset.

That doesn't mean there isn't so much more to say.