03/26/2013

 Most of the time, I am fine. Then I have a moment…I see something on tv or someone says something in passing…and I remember. I am supposed to be pregnant. I am supposed to be delivering Joseph’s little brother or sister in six weeks time. And I am so heart-broken. No one knows. I don’t talk about it to anyone anymore. But I still sometimes can’t believe I am not having that baby.

In January I had a dream. In my dream, I was miraculously still pregnant. It was like a medical marvel that the d&c hadn’t worked. I couldn’t believe it at first, and I was so happy. And then I suddenly miscarried onto the floor. A fully-formed baby that I had to hold. As if that weren’t awful enough, a moment later, I miscarried again, this time, just a small clump of tissue. It was an awful, horrible nightmare that I couldn’t shake after I woke up. A few days later, I got my period…two weeks early. Based on a lot of other factors, I’m about 90% sure it was another miscarriage. 

I was sad about that, but in a different way…since I didn’t know I was pregnant, it wasn’t a sadness about losing a baby, but more about just not being pregnant. I wanted to be pregnant…we were trying and the timing would have been good. I had been waiting to ovulate so we would have another chance, but I never did…because I was already pregnant. Thank goodness I didn’t know. As of now, we are no longer trying and will wait until the summer to start again. But the other part of that experience is the fear…what if this keeps happening? Once you have one healthy baby, you feel like you are home-free, like everything will be the same the 2nd time. But I have so many friends who have struggled to get pregnant, or to STAY pregnant the 2nd time around. I am scared, and that doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t feel good about that – it just isn’t how I usually choose to live my life. I want to approach life from a perspective, from an assumption, of abundance. I have always believed that things work out as they should.  When I look back, I can see how my life has unfolded in just the right way. But this feels SO wrong.

Although I am aching for another baby, although I want Joseph to have a sibling, part of me is wondering if it just isn’t meant to be.  Perhaps I am being greedy, wanting more than anyone really deserves. I don’t want to push my luck. Here I have this wonderful, (almost) three year old, who is so bright and inquisitive and funny. Although he has his toddler moments, we have really been spoiled with him…overall, he is good-natured and easy-going.  He loves animals, all animals, and keeps a running commentary all day long about what his favorite animals are, where they live, what they eat, and what they are doing in the pages of his books.  He makes jokes, sings songs, and spends the days pretending to be a dinosaur or a giant.  He is precious to me.  How could I want more…and at the same time, knowing how wonderful he is, how could I not?