Every once in a while, out of the blue, I feel sucker punched by the loss of my pregnancy. November has been a real turning point for me, and while I remember the baby I should be carrying every day I no longer feel like I’m drowning in unrelenting sadness all the time. There might be a week or two in between moments when the loss comes right back to the surface and completely overwhelms me. Our Thanksgiving was lovely, and I do have so much to be thankful for, but the loss was so powerful that day I had a full blown anxiety attack at the exact time the bird needed to move from the brine to the oven. Z and my mom completely rescued me. OK, to be honest it was Z, my mom, and good old Lorazepam. But they helped in the kitchen, I rallied, and the meal went off without a hitch.
I think part of the reason I am feeling raw is we are officially trying to get pregnant again. And I’m freaking out. I worry my obsessing will prevent my body from relaxing enough to get pregnant. If we do conceive quickly I’m worried about staying pregnant. I’m worried about telling people or not telling people when it happens. And I can tell that Z is worried that all my worrying is going to take the joy out of the whole thing.
Last summer it was all so easy. My period came back, we decided not to use birth control and then we decided we really wanted kids close together in age. I didn’t take my temperature or track my ovulation; we just had tons of sex. And within 2 months I was knocked up. It was a pretty stress free and frankly very enjoyable route to the next kid. Until it wasn’t.
I have no idea when T was conceived. We didn’t even know how pregnant I was until the first ultrasound. I don’t know exactly when the baby I lost was conceived either, but it was during a period of fun and ease and love and happiness. I want to conceive again under those circumstances, but getting pregnant and staying pregnant feels so damn charged.
Before we started a family I rolled my eyes at the women who would try to get pregnant on a schedule, or who would know their ovulation day and make the whole thing so clinical. Where’s the joy in that? I don’t want getting pregnant to feel like another responsibility. But, of course, now I do understand those women. I understand that we are lucky to be able to conceive quickly and I feel grateful for that.
Now that it is time to try again I want to let go of all the anxiety that will always surround pregnancy for me moving forward. I want to have fun with my husband, I want to be cool with it if we don’t conceive in December, I want to not have a little voice in my head telling me it is the perfect time, the babies will be two years apart. I want the same little voice in my head telling me my eggs aren’t getting any younger to take a hike.
What I really want is to never have lost the pregnancy. Or at least I want to know why I lost the pregnancy. What did I do wrong? Was it the cold I got? The anxiety? The time I asked my friend to help with my alignment during downward facing dog and it hurt? The huge box of cat littler I lifted? The fact I was still breastfeeding? Why did this happen? How can I prevent it from happening again? Can I magically turn back time and make it not have happened?
Being completely happy at T’s first birthday party. I was still pregnant and I had two incredible boys on my lap, life was good.