11 Weeks
As of today, I’m 11 weeks pregnant.
Same as I was on July 24th. And exactly seven days later, I had a bloody awful seven-hour miscarriage.
So I’m sitting here today, wondering if this is the last week I get to be pregnant again this time.
Should something go wrong again, I do not think I can stand another round of pity. I know that miscarriage is something that happens to childbearing women, it’s a natural thing, but I hate hate hate the implication that I’m broken. I’ve already had to fight off the label of “broken” once before, and I really didn’t like it then either.
Jason has total faith, and no fear. I envy/admire him for that. He has no idea why I’m flipping out.
I have no reason to think I will miscarry again. I’ve got some pretty serious nausea going on this time, which according to most accounts, is a good sign of baby stickiness. So every day I want to puke, I’m reassured. How perverse is that? I’ve also got a noticeable bulge already. Neither of those things happened with the miscarriage. Small comforts, right?
I talked to my mom earlier today. When I told her I was pregnant the last time, she got all giddy excited, started looking at patterns for the next baby afghan, and all that other good grandma stuff. This time, she’s being cautious right along with me. Somehow that makes me sad. I feel like grandparents should get to just rejoice, and not be along for all the crappy parts. Maybe that’s just me taking too much on myself (wouldn’t be the first time).
So I dunno, file this under “overthinking” or “overstressing” or “jeez, don’t you have anything else to worry about???”. I suppose I should. Let go, let God, right? Wish me luck on this one.
Hang tight.
Hey my dear,
Broken you are not! Unless I’m mistaken those two adorable little blonde boys running around are yours. So, even if the worse came to pass, even if you found out you could never have another child, you still have two beautiful pumpkins that require your every day love and attention. That’s hardly broken.
And, I am of the mind that all that nausea is a good sign. The hormones are flowing, and good things are happening.
Life is good, no matter what the outcome. Dana
Hey Babe, hang in there, keep almost puking, and go with it. Each of these little people have their own journey, and what has gone before, or comes after isn’t related to this ones belly time.
It’s not the grandma that is cautious I reckon, it’s the mama, wary for her baby - you - and your flipping out and stress. The grandma joy and giddyness will still be there I bet!
Sending you bucketloads, no oceanloads of luck from us all here in New Zealand - yup, I’ve got the whole country backing me on this.
Much love Lizzie
Hey there,
You are NOT broken, not a bit. Never were. And there is NOTHING wacko about being happy for nausea because, logically, it is indicative of a sticky pregnancy.
Of course, there is also nothing wrong with the OTHER part of your brain, the part that is not happy about tossing cookies every half hour, looking askance at the logical brain part and saying, “uh, yeah, but could we at least hold down SOMETHING!?”
Sending STICKY vibes from VA,
Amy
[...] blogged a teeny bit about my July 31 miscarriage here. And until I was discussing the due date for the baby I’m carrying now with Mom2, I had [...]
Thanks for sharing, because I’m in the SAME boat… I pray for an easy week, pregnancy, and beyond for both of us.