About the Size of a Lime

That’s how big my baby is.

Yep, my baby. I’m 12 weeks preggo as of last weekend.

I was really stressing out about when and how and why to come out to the Internet about my pregnancy. While I could not be more thrilled to be pregnant again, I’m also about as anxious as I think one human being could be. Especially since it’s been 2 weeks since my last doctor’s appointment, and I don’t get to go back for 2 more weeks. I need more reassurance than that.

I also thought getting pregnant again would just fix all of my feelings of loss and grief and fear, and everything would be right with the world again. Not exactly so. For a while, my feelings actually intensified; hormones I suppose. And then I felt guilty, like I was so fixated on conceiving this baby that I might forget the baby I lost. (I’ve since realized that’s just not going to happen.) And now, I worry all the time that things will turn out the same way again, I can’t seem to settle into reality mode and be happy.

But, I want everyone who was there for me during the miscarriage and the grieving process to also be able to celebrate with me. And maybe telling more than just our parents and siblings will help make things seem more real. Thank you all for your support, here’s to the future. And here’s to my little lime. (This is reminding me how much I miss margaritas.)


Photo credit: mconnors from morguefile.com

Unpleasant, but Important

I just ran across a parentings site forum in which a woman made a case for more openly discussing miscarriage and the chances thereof, only to be accosted by several women telling her how they “just don’t want to think about these kinds of things while I am pregnant, thank you very much.” And “how dare you bring this kind of thing up with a bunch of pregnant women?”

I’m here to tell you, you MUST think about it. Talk about it. Learn about it. It’s a very common occurrence, a very real possibility. Of COURSE we don’t WANT to think about it, it’s unpleasant. But, it’s also a fact of life.

The one thing that still nags at me about my miscarriage was that I, too, just didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t consider it a possibility or a reality. Because no one had sat me down and had a serious talk with me about it.

As a result, I told the blogosphere that I was pregnant at just 7 weeks, and then had to suffer a very public loss of that pregnancy. Granted, it was a hell of a lot easier to come to terms with, having had so many people there to support me and welcome me into the group of survivors. But, it would certainly have felt less humiliating had I just waited it out.

I didn’t know how common it was. I didn’t know it could happen to, yes, even me. And then afterward, I couldn’t figure out why all the moms and doctors and pregnancy experts all kept so quiet about it.

It’s an ugly topic, stuff your nightmares are made of. But, education is your best defense when those nightmares become reality.

Don’t just stick your fingers in your ears and scream “LA LA LA LA LA!” Please don’t be afraid to take pregnancy for everything that it is, the good AND the bad.

Consumed

I’m currently trying to conceive after having miscarried my second baby in April. I thought when I got my period again, and we could start trying again, that it would make me feel better about everything. But, it’s so stressful and frustrating and infuriating, it’s just brought on a whole new set of negative emotions.

And I have become obsessed with MY CYCLE. And AM I OVULATING? And WAS THAT A PERIOD? SPOTTING? IMPLANTATION? (Because my body is a whole effing lot different than it was before.) Are those pregnancy symptoms? Or am I just getting another period?

Do my breasts hurt? My breasts kind of hurt. But do they really hurt? Is that first-trimester fatigue? Or am I just tired? Is that nausea? Or nerves? Or am I just CRAZY? This stuff swirls around in my brain all day long some days. If you could hear my internal monologue, I know I would annoy the crap out of you, because I am seriously annoying the hell out of myself.

I find myself measuring time in how dark the line on the ovulation test was. Life is a series of 28 day increments. 28 days to “get it right” or just start over from scratch. My heart goes out to anyone suffering from infertility. I don’t know how much I could bear, honestly.

The most frustrating part is that I ALREADY WAS pregnant. That ALREADY HAPPENED. And then it ended abruptly, and I’m right back where I started. It makes me want to put my fist through a wall.

And the undue stress that this whole experience has put upon my marriage? Well, let’s just say…it doesn’t make for a whole lot of romance.

I hope this gets easier. As easy as it was before. But something tells me it will never, ever be like it was before.

People keep telling me, “It will happen, it will!” But I can’t get rid of the nagging little voice in my head that keeps saying, “What if it doesn’t?” I want to fast forward like, 6 months or so, just to see how things are going. To see if this really is going to happen for us. And to skip all of this frustration and waiting.

Loss

I’m trying to find a way to discuss what happened to us over Easter weekend with the blogosphere, but I’m not even sure what to say to myself quite yet. Here goes…

I went for my first prenatal appointment on Friday morning. The OBGYN’s little ultrasound machine wasn’t picking up a heartbeat in my little bean, and he/she was measuring 7 weeks, and I was 10 weeks. So, they sent me down a floor to radiology, where the more powerful ultrasound machines could give us a better picture. We had to wait in the radiology lobby for almost an hour. The longest hour of my life. Well, except for the next hour after that when results were being read and sent back to the clinic.

Then, they laid the bad news on me: bean had no heartbeat, and had probably passed away two weeks ago. And it’s not my fault and it’s normal and blah blah blah. Nothing anyone said to me for the rest of that day or the next made me feel better about it.

I had to take some medication to get things moving. It had already been two weeks, and they were concerned about things still being inside me. THAT was easily the worst part of all of it. To have to endure the physical pain in addition to all the emotional pain I was already in. Though, it has made it easier to begin healing now that it’s officially over.

We are hopeful for the future, and know that having a successful pregnancy later on is very probable for us. It’s just getting through the here and now that’s giving us some trouble. Trying to sort out why this happened, and how we can make some sense of it, if any at all. Trying to pick up the pieces of our lives and our hearts and move forward.

Appetite

Right now, food and I are total frenemies.

I alternate between being completely famished and omg I will toss my cookies if I go near any food substance, and not much else in between.

When I’m hungry, I eat up all the good stuff I have stashed in the cupboards. When the hormones have me wretching, I can’t bear going to the store to get more food. Then I’m starving again, and I have to figure out what the heck to eat. Lather, rinse, repeat, for the past 2 weeks.

My morning sickness with Bowie was, though I didn’t know it back then, a COMPLETE WALK IN THE PARK. I felt queasy when I woke up, so I kept saltines next to the bed. I ate 2 or three of them, waited a few minutes, and went about my day. I was a little queasy until lunch time, but the mere thought of lunch didn’t make me want to throw up my saltines.

This time around, I am queasy when I wake up. Then my stomach decides that a small, bland breakfast would be ok. Then I’m queasy through lunch. In the afternoon, I’m so hungry I fear my stomach will eat itself. Then I’m queasy through dinner, but starving just in time to make the attempt to fall asleep. And “queasy” this time around is a lot more than my “queasy” of days past.

I’ve had a lot of people tell me that means I’m having a girl. I guess the tale is that morning sickness isn’t that bad with boys, but with girls, you better hold on tight to that toilet, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

So, we’ll see if that is true. In the meantime, I sure hope this goes away during the second trimester like all the books promise.

One thing that is still like last time, when I am actually really, really hungry, this is ALL I WANT, NOM NOM.