The third week of bleeding set in, with no improvement. I did not feel better, the bleeding didn't slow, nothing. I saw my OB again. She leveled with me: now that problems with my cervix had been ruled out, the only possible causes for all this bleeding were bad news for the pregnancy. In her experience, cases like mine end with loss. If I made it to 24 weeks, I would need to be hospitalized for the remainder of the pregnancy.

All I could do with this news was wait. Carry on and make through one day at a time. 24 weeks was still a month away, which seemed like an eternity. I knew that viability at 24 weeks was pretty iffy, so I really wanted to make it at least to 28 weeks. But for right now, I was in the 20th week, the baby was kicking regularly to reassure me, and I focused on the end of the school year, on a visit from out-of-town friends, and on resting as much as possible.

The nights were the worst. I would wake up and need to use the bathroom. Blood would pour out of me into the toilet, where I sat helpless. I would return to bed, too upset to sleep. I would pray when I could get calm enough, and once and a while it was as if the room filled with tiny angels, a palpable presence of many soft-winged beings, all there simply to be with me.

Day 21 of 31, 18 Cheshvan 5774