Friday, August 3, 2012

Swimming in uncertainty

Warning - I feel like this might infuriate lovely women who are trying so hard to get pregnant but haven't yet. So, if you are not up for the ramblings of a pregnant infertile, please click away. I won't bat an eyelid.

It feels like forever since the last ultrasound. The next one, scheduled for the near future (Tuesday morning), also seems like it is forever from now. All par for the course, ain't it.

The weather in my head this week has been overcast, with a few thundershowers sprinkled throughout. This even if in reality, there is no cause to think anything is wrong. But there was no suspecting anything was wrong last time either, which is the retort I can't get my mind to shut up about.

Being at the end of week 8 (8w5d today) feels like entering the valley of the shadow of death. My mind is trying to work out the details of when the D&C will happen, trying to anticipate my work schedule and my grandfather's imminent passing (he's now in palliative care - it's the end). I guess what I know of pregnancy, the parts that I know in my body and not just intellectually, have to do with lots of nausea, lots of medication and fear of weaning, lots of uncertainty, and then the end. My mind plays that tape, and each time, I say that it can be different this time. I pull out my list of things to combat anxiety (to which, dear readers, you have made a very significant contribution), and I get back to a state of semi-okayness.

And then I get distracted by the nausea and its management.  


All we can do is wait.

It's hard to imagine sharing this news with anyone outside of our close circle yet. As I was saying to Mr. A, what I'm most uncomfortable about is that people would feel (or look) more happy and excited about this than I do at the moment. Not that I am not happy and excited. You know I am. But those feelings are not predominant in my experience at the moment. I'm still a bit stuck on how crappy that is, and how unfair it is to the gummy bear. I should be jumping up and down instead of thinking every 10 minutes that  he/she is dead.

Can you control your feelings, Augusta? NO, no you can't.

Alright then, let's just ride them out.

So, we'll wait for Tuesday. All we can do is wait.  

From JM Barclay Photography


  1. I think this is a completely normal way to feel. I had some bleeding early in my pregnancy and in my mind it signaled the end...just like my first pregnancy. I had a hard time shaking that feeling. For me, it just took time to 'heal' that thought. Until I had passed specific "milestones" I didn't feel comfortable and was worried.
    Praying Tuesday and the good news you are sure to receive gets here quickly!

  2. After what you went through last time everything you are feeling is normal. It sucks to know just how wrong things can go. The waiting is kiler. That is the main reason I rented the Doppler. Since you have no real reason to suspect it's over, let's pretend everything is fine. Let's let in some sunshine, shall we? Even just a ray or 2 can make a big difference. I know how scared you are and I hope that Tuesday brings great news and peace of mind. Thinking of you, my dear...and your little gummy bear.

  3. Thinking of you and wishing you a calm over such feelings. If not immediately very soon. Hope Tuesday brings some peace of mind.

  4. This part is a total crapfest. Its a good sign that you actually have nausea to manage. Hoping and praying that Tuesday puts a big smile on your face.

  5. The waiting is awful. I remember feeling like every minute of the day was like a year by itself. Hold on to hope as best you can.

    I ended up purchasing a doppler (about $80 or so) and listened every day. Yep. EVERY DAY. I needed to for my own sanity. I never had trouble finding the HB, either. It helped me get through until I felt her move.

    Hang in there. One day at a time.

  6. I have never suffered what you've suffered, and I know the closer the ultrasound, the more certain the feelings of doom. I won't bother with any of the logical bits (youthful yankee egg!) because I know you know them and they don't matter, what matters is the overwhelming salience of the experience of loss. As long as you don't add to the stress by feeling bad about feeling bad, which it doesn't seem like you are doing or anything...because I trust these other women who tell you it's all utterly normal given the circumstances.

    Tuesday will come soon, and then you'll know. I believe it will be good news, but I don't blame you one bit for not believing in anything good ever again ever.

  7. It's hard. It's just hard.

    I found the 24 hrs leading up to ultrasound to be the most crazy making. And I only had to wait a week between mine!

    Do whatever you need to to make it until Tues. Wishing you peace.

  8. So hard, pregnancy after loss is such an emotional uphill ride. Wish I had more comforting words, I remember feeling such difficult emotions during those times as well. Abiding with you & holding hope you'll receive more reassuring news Tuesday. It really is too bad we don't get even more appointments when we've had our innocence regarding pregnancy broken. Love to you my friend.

  9. Your feelings sound completely normal to me, but I'm sorry you have them nonetheless. You should be able to celebrate and revel in your pregnancy. It's a shame that your prior loss is casting a pall on this pregnancy.

    Here's hoping you get good news at your next u/s and are able to relax (somewhat) and enjoy. Oh, and I hope your nausea subsides, as I know how awful that is. (Yet oddly reassuring, no?)

  10. So my tip is to keep from over anticipating at this point. You have given this such a good start and there is full love surrounding you as this progresses. My fondest wish is for such strong great news, that you are naturally buoyed to float above all other milestones.

  11. This part is so tough when you've had a loss. I am beaming healthy gummy bear vibes your way, hang in there!

  12. I think you're right - you can't control your feelings and all you can do is wait. I could tell you that your chances of a healthy pregnancy are overwhelmingly good this time (they are) but the body filters everything through the lens of the past. And so what you know becomes conflated with all it feels there is to know (not the same thing...just keep telling yourself this).

    As to the unfairness, I agree. Once your "innocence" (for lack of a better word) has been stripped away because of previous experience, it's entirely too much to ask for you to be happily clueless. The period you're in right now is - by far - the hardest one. The good thing is that things do change. Each week that passes, especially once you get to the second trimester, changes it more. It's hard to believe at this point, I know.

    Sending you so much love and hope for Tuesday.

  13. Holding you and that little miracle so tight in my heart. This has to be the time that the universe finally bows down to all that you've been through. I have so much faith in that little miracle growing and thriving under the loving care of it's momma. Sending you all sorts of love and positive wishes. You are an amazing woman my dear friend, and I am so thankful for all your love and support. Hoping that even a fraction of the peace you've give me is coming through in this post from me to you.

  14. Ah, comme je comprends tes tiraillements: se dire qu'on devrait être heureuse mais avoir tellement peur que tout s'arrête en même temps. Et dire que je n'ai même pas vécu les moments extrêmement difficiles que vous avez dû traverser l'an dernier. Et il est vrai qu'il est difficile de voir les gens autour de nous plus heureux, plus excité que nous. Maudite infertilité qui laisse tant de traces! Je pense à toi très fort et penserez à toi demain matin pour ton écho.

  15. Thinking of you this morning, sending love and hope.

    XOXO, Hannah

  16. I am thinking of you and hoping for another "beatbeatbeatbeat" post in moments. xo