Alpha Omega

Trigger warning: miscarriage

When my second daughter was born, I used to rock her doing that sigh-sing-song of random syllables to comfort her.  “Ohhhh-meg-ahhh,” I’d murmur, slipping part of her name into it.  “Ohhh, Meg, ahhh.”

At some point, a family member heard me doing this and asked if I was making a reference to this being the last kid – as in “Alpha and Omega” being the beginning and end of the Greek alphabet (lots of science people in the family).  “Nah,” I said.  “Just sings nicely together.”

It stuck with me, though.

When we transferred the final embryo last fall and it didn’t stick, I didn’t feel “done”.  Arthur was done, but I never had that sense of finality.  We argued on and off for months, even after I got rid of my maternity clothes and some baby gear.  Even when common sense, age, and a pandemic made having an argument about another kid feel beyond ridiculous.

And in May, after arguments, counseling, and every kind of back-and-forth, we decided to take one last crack at the thing.  And lo and behold, there were two lines.  And an HCG number that looked fantastic and was rising beautifully.  And we prepared.

I went in today for my first ultrasound at 8 weeks 2 days.  There was a sac, measuring a week behind.  No baby or yolk sac or anything else in there.  I watched as the tech scanned over and around, thorough and careful to be sure.  They asked me about my HCG numbers.  The doctor came in and confirmed what I had already texted Arthur.

Blighted ovum.

D*mn.

I’m scheduled for a D&C tomorrow because I have, quite frankly, been through enough suffering without adding horrible miscarriage cramping/bleeding into the mix.  I’m also very symptomatic as far as pregnancy symptoms and I’d like that to stop sooner rather than later.  It does not matter any more if my uterus scars.

Because we are done.

For real.

For certain.

Five pregnancies is a lot on the body and soul, especially adding in all the other factors like IVF and PPROM and now the third loss.  It’s enough.  I’m done.

My older daughter is named for Samwise Gamgee’s oldest daughter in Lord of the Rings.  If somehow walking out of Mordor with her is the biggest battle we faced, this is the day we go to the Grey Havens and bid good-bye to something precious and special and end this final chapter.  Watching as those figures board the ship to something beyond our world and knowledge, tears streaming freely.

Then we go home because even now, I feel the promise author Tolkien gave to his character Sam in the book, to live a long, happy life and that someday, someday, the torn-in-two feeling would no longer be so horribly acute.

We asked a question at the beginning, at the alpha point of this journey eight years ago.  We have our answers now: two miraculous girls.

Today we are at the omega.