In all my years of owning a cell phone (since the year 2000, I believe) I have never had to hear the unfriendly reminder message that my mailbox was full and that I should delete some saved messages so that I could continue receiving new ones.  Well I got to hear that message for the first time today when I saw that I had 4 new voicemails and immediately upon dialing voicemail, I got the unfriendly reminder.  Oops.

My 4 new voicemails included 2 automated messages reminding me of my ultrasound and follow-up with my RE on Friday.  Gulp.  The next one was a message from one of my RE's nurses saying that they wanted to up my does of Levo to 50 mcg.  The message after that was also from the same nurse telling me that she had misread my chart and that I could stay on the 25 mcg as long as I came back for a follow-up in 3 weeks.  Sigh.  Another mix-up.  The story of my life with that place.  At least they were able to correct it without getting me involved.

After listening to and deleting the new messages I moved on to the archived messages.  I hate deleting old messages because I hate listening to them.  I hate listening to them even more so when I know that my last year has been littered with upsetting messages.  I had no idea how far back those messages went and what I had kept, but I quickly found out.

The first, oldest, and most upsetting message was from the hospital calling to confirm my D&C in March.  I listened up until the point of them telling me not to eat or drink anything for 12 hours prior and I lost it.  Completely bawling my eyes out.  Why on earth did I save that message?  Talk about ripping off a scab.  Delete.

Next few messages were from my mortgage company regarding my refinance that has been going on since, yes, March and is still not closed.  Reminds me to call those assholes tomorrow to see what the hell is up with that.  Delete, delete, delete, delete...

The next most upsetting message was from my RE explaining that results of my last baby's chromosome analysis was abnormal for isochromosome 8 and that is what "explained" my last miscarriage.  More tears.  I guess I just saved it in case I needed to go back and research it later.  Delete.

I had a couple of messages from the psychologist's office confirming appointments and giving directions.  No need to keep those...delete, delete.

After a few more stupid messages from the fertility pharmacy and FedEx, the last message made me cry, again.  It was recent.  From the one of my RE's nurses (the one I like the best) wishing me congratulations on my very positive pregnancy test.  I lost it again.  You can imagine my dog staring at me in complete wonder when I would cry, delete, cry, delete.  He laid his head on my lap and looked at me with the kind of worry that only a doggie has.  Gosh, I love him.

I didn't delete that message.  I couldn't.  It was the only happy one out of them all, but it still made me cry.  They weren't tears of joy either, unfortunately.  They were anxious tears.  Uncertain tears.  Worried tears.  Will I ever not feel this way?  Worried that at any minute the rug is going to be pulled out from under me yet again?  Scared that this child might have the same fate as the last 3?  I am trying so hard to be positive, but I am failing at that.  My thoughts always go back to negative "what ifs?".

Sorry for all of the really depressed sounding posts lately.  As Trisha at The Elusive Second Line mentioned in her post today, I am not always sad and depressed, either.  Normally I am a fun and cheery person.  I have always been optimistic, but realistic.  I am sort of all over the place right now, up and down, side to side, and I feel like I can really share all of those thoughts in this venue without judgement.  So thanks to you all, my therapists.  Thanks for continuing to read, continuing to really listen, and continuing to comment when you can.  You have no idea how much it means to me.