6w5d? 33dpo?

I don't know how to refer to myself. Thank goodness I haven't needed any unrelated medical contact, because I don't know how I'd answer the question "are you pregnant?"

Yes, but not usefully so?
No, in the sense that you should feel free irradiating me or giving me whatever teratogenic drugs you want, because the embryo no longer gets a vote?
Yes, in the sense that any test I'm given will instantly come up positive?

33dpo is good, I guess, because it's a reference to an event that definitely happened, rather than a state that implies something is going to happen.

No news. No spotting. Peesticks are mocking me. So, you wanted them nice and dark, huh? I get repeat bloodwork on Friday; if things haven't substantially improved, I'll have to book the D&C for Monday or Tuesday. I'm getting past the point where watchful waiting is prudent. If we could be certain it's in my uterus then waiting would be fine, but we're not. If I have the D&C we'll find out fairly quickly whether or not that's where my little zombie child has set up shop.

I called and ask a few questions, and I'm surprised? pleased? dismayed? to learn that they do D&Cs under general anesthetic. I didn't have a general for any of the egg retrievals, just a lovely, lovely IV twilight sleep. I had kind of thought and hoped it would be the same for this. I do like the idea of just really not being there for it. I've had friends who've had D&Cs under locals tell me in no uncertain terms that it is not a pleasant experience. OTOH, I've never had general; for my c-section it was a jacked-up epidural plus, I dunno, something else that made me super woozy but didn't actually knock me out. The general does make it seem like a bigger deal.

I've decided that I like the term pregnancy wastage. It sounds like what it is: a waste. A waste of time, effort, money, pain.

Things're okay. The last time I was in this position, in March of '08, it was pretty much "bottomless pit of despair". Now there's still some despair, but the pit has a bottom.  I am longing for this to be physically over, all of the phone calls and hold music and blood draws and small pains and indignities and reminders and hormones. I know I'll feel better then.