"Normal is not something to aspire to, it's something to get away from." - Jodie Foster
When I was in high school, I pinned little buttons printed with sassy sayings and the names of my favorite bands all over my denim jacket. (There I go, showing my age again - yes, I wore my button-encrusted jacket with neon-colored jelly shoes and Guess jeans while dancing to Duran Duran. I'm OLD, ok?) My favorite button asked the all-important question: "Why Be Normal?" Normal was boring. Normal was average. I was Unique! Creative! Fascinating! I had an asymmetrical haircut and wrote angsty poetry and knew I would never aspire to "normal."
And now here I am, over 20 years later, and normal is still a dirty word.
Normal people are happy when their doctor calls to say their test results are normal. But when you've fallen down the rabbit hole of infertility, sometimes normal test results are bad news. Like today: the RPL tests that were supposed to give us a clue as to what caused the miscarriage all came back -- you guessed it -- normal.
Normal means there aren't any obvious or easy answers. I don't have blood clotting issues or any of the other conditions that commonly cause miscarriage. So now what?
The baby was normal, and I'm so-called normal, and still the baby died and no-one can tell us why it happened or how to keep it from happening again. My body is having a critical malfunction on some deep and fundamental level. We don't know how or why it short-circuited and rejected my baby and I feel so frustrated and lost. I know I'm NOT NORMAL. I need answers. Where do we go from here?
As it turns out, we go to Memphis.
My RE referred me to a specialist in recurrent pregnancy loss, (I've only had one miscarriage, but apparently it was so spectacular and inexplicable I qualify for this advanced level of care) Dr. K in Memphis. As soon as I can get an appointment, Mr Wren and I will find a way to get there and find a way to pay for it. For my own peace of mind I have to see if Dr K can give me some answers.
There have to be answers. There ALWAYS are answers - you just have to ask the right questions and look in the right places. Right? I refuse to believe anything else. Yes, I know there's the possibility that modern science just isn't asking the right questions yet, and we won't find an answer no matter where we look but holy crap that is a terrifying thought and I'm just going to put it away for now.
For now I'm simply trying to take this one step at a time and focusing on planning our trip to Memphis and starting to look forward to it. I've never been. Regardless of what else happens while we're there and whether or not we find any answers, I'm going to Graceland.
Is it abnormal for me to be a little bit excited about that?