The best of intentions

That’s what I’m sure the receptionist/check-in person at the lab today had. I had to go today for another beta check, the one I really can’t afford and frankly, really don’t need, and this is the conversation that took place:
Receptionist: “Oh, you’ve been in recently.”
Me: “Yep, last week.”
R: “and this says you’re coming back again in a week?”
Me: “Yep. Lucky me.”
R: “Well, at least you don’t have to come in every 48 hours anymore.”
Me: “um…yeah, I suppose.”

You know how you really just can’t quite comprehend what people are saying until much later – like when you’re driving away and it’s too late to say anything? Because I cannot believe she said that to me. Right there on the lab order is shows my diagnosis as a miscarriage and what the test is for, so it’s not like she didn’t know. And honestly, I’m glad I’m not a person who would have a complete breakdown at that kind of comment.

But really? Here’s what I should have said: “No, I don’t. But I wish I did. Because that would mean I would still have a baby growing in me. But thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

I know she didn’t mean anything by it. And I did promise to not let these experiences define who I am. So I will probably be over it soon. But still. I’d do blood draws (without the $35 copay, though) until birth if it meant I could have skipped the miscarriage.

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