raw eggs & aspartame

I'm looking at the bright side and eating for one and indulging my taste buds whenever and however possible. Anything forbidden during pregnancy is now a go-to food. Hot dogs, one of the first items banished from the moment of the test, were all I ate the first week after this miscarriage was diagnosed. Not that I have much of an appetite (and this eating once a day thing, my waistline and I don't mind) but when I do chow, I make sure I eat something entirely artificial and/or off limits to women "in the family way". See today's breakfast/lunch/dinner:

Yum. Washed down with a aspartame-full Diet Coke, natch. Nothing like some cookie dough to start Saturday off with a bang.

I had a D&C yesterday. Yes, the very procedure I fought for 12 long, wearisome days to avoid. I called in early yesterday morning to leave a message for the nurses inquiring about Thursday's hormone levels. Cell phone close at hand, I headed to the store and loaded my cart with all the necessities we've been lacking since my self-imposed house arrest began. My phone rings. It's Nurse K, and she sounds utterly unimpressed with the results of my lab work. My HCG isn't dropping, I'm still pregnant, they want me not to be. "Have you eaten or drank this morning" she asks. Nope. And she tells me they want me in immediately for a D&C. She tells me Dr. S isn't a fan of having his patients sit for too long waiting for a miscarriage to happen, and that after 12 days, they think I've been through enough torture. They want this over with before the weekend. I can't even explain what a relief it is to have a doctor just TAKE CONTROL. I leave the full cart in the greeting card aisle and book it out of there. An hour later, I'm dressed for surgery and J and I finally meet the wonderful Dr. S. And I'm pleased to report, he appears to be just as fantastic as the masses have indicated. Within 5 seconds, I felt a sense of ease I've been longing to feel for weeks. He was sympathetic but at the same time confident in our ability to have children. He assured us he has never seen a couple have 2 losses and NOT go on to have as many babies as they want to have. He has a game plan and we'll figure this out. I'm impressed and inspired.

I'm also brunette. As I awoke from anesthesia, the first thing I ask J is the time. He tells me it's 1:00 and I realize the 4:30 hair appointment I cancelled en route to the surgery could still easily be made. Still groggy, I request (he might say demand) he go call the salon and get my appointment back. He looks dubious but wastes no time leaving the room to make the call. The nurse looked either amused or confused, I don't quite care which, I wanted pretty hair. And I got it. I feel somehow wiser and more mature all of the sudden. Here's hoping brown-hair-Mandie has more fortune than blonde-hair-Mandie.