At the grocery store I stared at the sushi. My strict diet limits what I can eat but sushi at about 450 calories could work especially on a Friday, the end of a long week filled with play dates and chasing a toddler learning the art of tantrums. I plucked it in the cart. What if I'm pregnant? I wondered. And yet, I'm not even planning to test until Monday. At my doctor's physical planned strategically to avoid me going mental over purchased pregnancy tests. It should be fine I reasoned.
W took off his shoes in the car and flung them. A series of days of nausea and fatigue preceded today, uterine pulls and twitching making me feel more confident that something was happening. Two and a half years apart, I counted out. I wondered how my son would react to a sibling. How I should start potty training him soon. How they'd go to elementary school together. How I wondered if I'd have more. And then about my weight, and how its two pounds to normal BMI and well, that will all go to crap now won't it. But it was worth it.
And then I stepped out of the car and felt like I peed my pants. Blood. Not a minor spotting and then flow of a period but heavier and redder with small clots.
It came early. And I don't need two lines on a pregnancy test to know what this is.
It's entirely possible I'm wrong. Either way, there was no heart beat flickering on a screen. There was no doctor congratulating me and sending me on my way with a page of appointments. A period or an early. . . it doesn't really make a difference. It means there's no baby this month. I knew to expect this. I know sex doesn't equal baby. I guess the nausea and fatigue, the getting up to pee the past few nights [a thing that only happens in pregnancy for me] and the vivid dreams were just nothing more than what they were. Maybe because I lost my first pregnancy, my Speck conceived this month three years ago. . . that this hurts so much. I am a logical person and I'm telling myself this is just a no for now. . . but for some reason all the grief of infertility and loss is caving in on me, my heart feels broken. I'm embarassed to even say this. Afraid of rolled eyes about my dramatics here. . . but its my truth. It's how I feel.
I guess I won't have to worry as I eat my sushi.
Oh, I'm so very sorry, and I know how completely inadequate it is to say that, but I needed to say something because you are NOT being dramatic, you're being sad and that's totally understandable. And you're right, you know, this IS just a 'no for now', but that doesn't make it hurt any less.
ReplyDeleteThanks Susan. I'm okay now. Bummed, but okay. I think most of it was the memories associated with previous miscarriages- it just kind of came back and that overwhelming . . . overwhelmingness of the IF journey to come. Reality check I guess. Thank you though, your words mean a lot.
ReplyDeleteNobody will roll their eyes at you. You are allowed your emotions and many of your readers have been in similar shoes. I'm sorry. <3 Hug W extra tight, watch something funny on tv (I vote Ellen!) and hang in there. :)
ReplyDeleteWith every inch of my being I know just how you feel. Many ((hugs)) my friend.
ReplyDeleteThe IF really never leaves you, even after you have a child. I've felt the same disappointment each month the last few months. Sorry for AF's arrival...
ReplyDeleteOh. This just knocks the wind out of me. I'm really sorry. And I'm thinking of you. Enjoy your sushi as much as you can. I am wishing that this month will be the last one you can eat it in a looooong time.
ReplyDeleteMo
Oh I'm so sorry. I think many of us understand and can relate. I was sure (and told myself I was being ridiculous at the same time) I was pregnant after Christmas - felt nauseous, sore boobs, so tired. I thought how cool it would be that we conceived on Christmas, how my son would be almost 3 when the baby was born....needless to say I was NOT pregnant. And it didn't hurt like it used to. And it wasn't a tragedy. But it hurt. And it reminded me of all those months and years of hoping and wondering about every little symptom and then feeling disappointed over and over again. Even for those of us lucky enough to have little ones with us, what we've gone through is still a part of who we are. Hang in there.
ReplyDeleteUgh, so sorry.. that is rough. Totally get it over here and wishing you all the best.
ReplyDeletei'm so sorry, i know how you feel. it's sort of like back to the drawing board, isn't it? there are no eye rolls here, we all understand exactly how you feel.
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