I haven’t felt much like blogging lately. It seems that when I’m feeling “good” (or whatever passes for good since Feb. 24th) I don’t have much to say. When I’m feeling “bad”, I want to blog and get it all out.
I haven’t received my genetic test results yet. Monday will make three weeks; I was told it would take 2-3 weeks. I have been relatively patient during the past three weeks. I think perhaps this is because my mind isn’t entirely made up about trying again. Or at least I am not very confident about trying again.
I had my appointment with Dr. F Friday morning. It went well; she was really nice, and her staff was really nice, and the offices were really nice. I cried only once while I was giving a brief history to the nurse. When I gave the history to Dr. F I held it together. She’s a short lady, just like me, which I always find endearing. She asked what my plan was – did I want to try again? And that is so difficult for me to answer. I want a baby. I want a family. But I don’t think I have the strength to deal with another loss. And loss is all I know when it comes to pregnancy. I am so scared that I will have to make that decision again, or even worse – that I will make it farther only to experience something even more devastating later in pregnancy, or during labor. I have no expectation that I will ever bring home a living baby. I look at the spare room and I can’t picture a nursery. I look at my belly and I can’t imagine it expanding. I picture my office and can’t see a child’s picture on my desk. I honestly feel very defeated by this whole baby making business.
Sunday nights are the worst. Crying in the shower, again. Bad enough that tomorrow is a Monday, but Sunday is also the day it seems as if I have less control over my emotions and keeping it together. I really don’t know why. Sunday nights are when I have thoughts like: what have I done to deserve this? What have any of us in this blogging community done to deserve this? What would my babies have been like? Would they look like me or The Husband? Would they have been athletes, or computer nerds, or ballerinas, or hockey players, or book worms? Am I not fit to be a mother? Are they together? Are they with my grandfather (who passed away when I was 18)? Why isn’t someone taking this pain away from me?
It’s been … liberating …. not worrying about pregnancy. Not worrying if I am pregnant, or if there is something wrong with a pregnancy, or if I am going to get bad news at an appointment. Or if what I am eating is bad, or if I am going to lose another baby. As time passes it’s becoming more difficult to remember what it was like being pregnant. I remember some things but it seems unreal, or surreal. Like maybe I imagined it. But then the grief flows in to remind me that yes, it was all too real. It’s unfair that I will feel the grief for the rest of my life and only felt the happiness and hope of pregnancy for such a short time.
But it still absolutely infuriates me when I see certain people with their children. For instance, one couple (acquaintances of The Husband) have three daughters. She is an ex-stripper, he fakes an illness to stay on disability, and they live in assisted housing. Neither ever has a steady job and they, in my opinion, take advantage of the system (see: faking an illness.) She always has odd jobs for months at a time then quits when people disrespect her, or whatever else nonsense she comes up with. Yet they have three daughters. Or a friend of mine from high school, who had her first child with her boyfriend while she was still married to someone else. Now they are expecting their third – she doesn’t work at all and at times has had to send in copies of her children’s birth certificates to their gas company to keep them from shutting it off when they are behind on bills. And now she is expecting her third with this boyfriend (and has since divorced her husband.) I know this sounds judgmental, and it’s not up to me to decide the best situation to bring a child in to, but why are these people having kids so easily and The Husband and I have suffered two losses? Is there something wrong with having two steady, well paying jobs, a nice home, and a stable life?
I know we all know people like this, and have probably all had thoughts like this. It makes me feel bad inside that I am criticizing or judging people I know like this (well, except for the ex-stripper), but it really burns me inside sometimes.