Only made it to 5 weeks this time, when I got the dreaded phone call from my GP on Friday afternoon. I was sitting in my car, happy and excited to be about to head into a function when my phone rang.
"Your HCG has dropped through the floor. I'm so sorry!"
"So I'm about to lose this baby too?"
"Yes Erin. I'm so sorry."
I hadn't told Adam yet - I wanted to be 100% sure bub was ok before letting him get excited with me. And I'm so glad for that.
As I drove directly home, skipping the event, I swiped at my eyes and kept reminding myself that I needed to be composed. I had to pick up a personalised onesie I'd bought to give to Adam when I was confident to tell him. With a big fake smile on my face, I thanked her and drove away with a onesie for a baby I was about to lose.
Thanks to my brilliant luck, by midday Saturday I began feeling horribly ill. And now, Sunday, I write this from a hospital bed. Enormous fevers, intense body pain, throwing up.... it all happened.
That's all for now. I haven't processed this yet.
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