Surgery #2 in Inside My Head

Surgery is scheduled for 1:30 tomorrow. It's a form of torture to have it so late in the day. At least with my first surgery I was done by the afternoon. It's the wait just before that kills you.

I'm trying to stay calm although I seem to break down at random intervals. I keep telling myself that it is just a ball of cells. This is not a viable pregnancy. There is no fetal pole, the sac isn't growing, the betas aren't rising properly - it will end in miscarriage at some point anyway. This just expedites the process. It's just that I was so close to something I wanted so badly. Miscarriage is like a cruel joke of nature/God/The Powers That Be.

I know I deserve this. I took life; this should be taken from me. It hurts regardless. If I had the ability to go back in time I would do it. I would change everything.

I'm scared about the surgery. With the first one I woke up screaming in pain. It was supposed to be a polypectomy, but the stupid surgeon perforated my uterus and I ended up with two holes in my abdomen. I hate pain. I'm scared of another complication even though it's a different surgeon. I'm scared that all of this is for nothing. I've read dozens of stories of women who had 3, 4, 5, even 8 failed rounds of IVF. I do not want to adopt. What if this is all for nothing? What if this positive pregnant test is the last positive test I will ever see?

I'm 31, but I have a sinking feeling I missed my chance to have children. I can't live like this. Everywhere I go I see children and it's like a punch to the chest. I haven't seen my nieces in months because they remind me of what I may never have. They're babies, they've probably forgotten me. I'll become a crummy aunt just like my crummy aunts. I just want this to be over.