When I got pregnant with T I was completely horrified. I wasn’t ready to be a mom, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a mom; I wanted the whole situation to go away. Eventually I came around, although I never enjoyed actually being pregnant.
The day we found about this baby I was so excited I didn’t know what to do with myself. I kept running up to Z and chanting, “I’M PREGNANT! I’M PREGNANT! I’M PREGGIE PREGGIE PREGNANT!” Later that night he told me it was so awesome to see me happy about the baby, it was such a relief to him. It really made me pause. I was so selfish about my reaction to the first pregnancy. I never thought about the impact it had on Z. I can’t help but feel like the loss of this baby is punishment for my attitude about the first pregnancy.
Motherhood is another example of how I so often have no idea what is good for me. Much to my surprise I love being a mother. Even more surprising, I love being a stay at home mom. I look at T and I know I am supposed to be doing this.
I wanted this baby so much. Part of my need for another baby was undoubtedly hormones. What with the preeclampsia and left behind placenta I initially thought I was done after one. So many people told me I would forget about the pain of childbirth, forget about the discomfort and humiliation of pregnancy and want to have another. Man that burned me up. Those terrible experiences were etched with crystal clarity on my brain, there was no way I was forgetting a single detail.
But those women were right. The memories of pregnancy, of being nauseous 24 hours a day, of peeing all the time, of not being able to sleep on my stomach (the only way I can get a decent night sleep) faded. If I don’t let myself think too much I don’t remember the terrible time I had in labor. I don’t know about you guys, but I like to think I am different. No one is going to know how I’m going to react to a situation, damn it! But the reality is I am not different at all.
All weekend I’ve been waiting for Tuesday so we can stop being in this limbo. Now that it is here I feel like I need more time. In a few hours I might have definitive answers, which means the fantasy of everything being OK, of the pregnancy being viable will be taken away. Suddenly I am OK with the fear pressing down on my chest if it means there is a tiny chance I could still be pregnant. I don’t know how I am going to pull it together to get dressed and make it to the doctor office. I want to hide in my house, on my sofa wrapped in my old blanket forever.
If the miracle happens and I am still pregnant I’m also worried about the stress I’ve experienced this weekend. I’ve had an anxiety attack in addition to the constant symptoms like increased heart rate, upset stomach, and lightheadedness. That stuff can’t be good for a fetus. But I didn’t know how to get through this weekend without freaking out. For the last 6 weeks I have told myself I don’t need my chill pills because they would hurt the baby. But man, I can’t pretend I don’t need one now. I guess that is the trade off. Lose the baby; gain the ability to drug myself up. Suddenly the drugs don’t seem worth it.
Mother’s Day 2010