*Look, there might be some TMI in here. You were warned. Also, this is long as hell. I tried to condense it but I’m telling a story here, people. And I don’t want anything left out.
It seems strange to be five weeks already, but if you understand how pregnancies are dated you know that we start counting on the first day of the last period, and for the last six months or so I’ve had 23-day cycles so wow, here we are.
It seemed wrong to me too when I looked it up this morning, but here’s the calculator I used. It shows everything, like when we could tell the sex, when the fetus would be viable (that’s traditionally the day we buy the crib!) and when I’d be full term. Going into labor on my anniversary? Entirely possible.
Some people questioned why we announced that we were pregnant so soon. While many people choose to wait until much later in their pregnancies, I like to be up front about it as soon as I pee on the stick and see the lines.
Maybe that’s because I’ve had two miscarriages? I don’t know. Observed statistics says that 33.3% of the time I’ll end up with a healthy baby, but my doctors always said the miscarriages were a fluke.
The first, at 4.5 weeks, was a very early miscarriage. I hadn’t planned that one at all. We had just returned from our honeymoon, and I played an April Fools’ joke on everyone that I was pregnant. The joke was on me when I found out three days later, after getting extremely dizzy in a car, that I was in fact a little knocked up.
It was over as soon as it began though, and shook me to my core. I remember sitting on the floor in the bedroom crying so hard I thought I might break a bone. It was the first time I understood what keening sounded like.
I hadn’t really wanted a baby at all until I realized that I wasn’t going to have one. It was the worst feeling I’ve ever felt.
Five months later, our homes were destroyed by Hurricane Ike. The next month, my husband transferred to Kansas City. I joined him at Christmas, and was pregnant by New Year’s.
Again, whoops. We weren’t trying, we had actually used protection. Do you hear me, teenagers? CONDOMS DON’T WORK ALL THE TIME.
I was excited for this pregnancy. I felt that even though I hadn’t planned it, I could handle it. Finances would work themselves out.
My husband was feeling pretty virile. He started referring to himself as “The Sniper.” His family made all kinds of statements about the fertility of the Mash Men.
At eight weeks, we found out during an ultrasound that I was carrying a blighted ovum. Just a big empty sac with a few random tissues in it. An embryo that never formed.
Boy, that sucked.
I chose to naturally miscarry, and refused all medications and interventions until two weeks later when I actually began to pass the tissue and then I was all GIVE ME DRUUUUUGS.
I was actually on my first day at a new job when I passed the blighted tissue. Words cannot express how gross and horrifying that was. Alone. In a bathroom in a place I’d never been working with people I didn’t know.
We sought out reproductive counseling, which is maddening. Here you are, unable to do the one thing you’ve pretty much been made to do, and you need counseling for it.
Our counselor was sweet, took our histories and brightly informed us that there was nothing wrong with either one of us, really, and that we just needed to try again. That it was bad luck.
So we tried. We tried all summer long.
Nothing.
Finally, frustrated, 30 years old, I gave up. I had ordered this atrocious book, “Taking Care of Your Fertility” along with a pack of cheap internet ovulation tests a few weeks before and was thinking about sending them back, if they ever arrived.
I told my husband, “I’m done! No more trying! This isn’t working! I’m defective!”
The next day, the book and the tests arrived. The book read like stereo instructions. I placed it on the bedside table. The tests were weird. Little sticks, blue on one end and white on the other. It came with five pregnancy tests too.
So of course, I peed on one. It immediately popped up two lines.
I peed on another one. Two more lines. Faint, but there.
I went to the store, plopped down big bucks for a First Response, and got two more lines.
I was pregnant. I told everybody. Fear of miscarriage be damned, this was going to be MY BABY.
And it was! I had a gorgeous little red head nine months later. He’s two and playing at my feet while I type this. He’s perfect, and worth all the trouble. But although I had valiantly declared that I would not fear miscarriage, I worried about nothing but that for the entire nine months.
Anxiety ate me alive during that pregnancy. Even so far as into the last weeks, when I worried over scans of his hands, freaking out because I couldn’t see finger bones. Even when I had to fight the guilt trips my husband’s family kept laying on us because we didn’t want anyone at the hospital for the birth.
To everyone else, my son’s birthday was going to be this carefree, happy day. To me, it was a goal that I wasn’t sure I was going to meet. A project I worried I hadn’t completed correctly. I wanted no one but my husband and myself there when my son arrived. Until I could inspect him thoroughly. Until I knew he was perfect.
I struggled with post-partum anxiety as well. I worked through it on my own, until it faded from a scream of what-ifs playing in 24-hour surround sound in my brain to a dull whisper that pops up now and then when I’m unsure of something.
That brings us to present day. We’d been talking for months about possibly adding to the family. The only question was whether or not I should go back to work.
I struggled with this. If I went back to work, sure, I’d have great medical coverage and extra money. But what about when the baby came? Would I go back to work the next school year too? Would I miss out on this baby’s firsts, give them to a babysitter instead?
I didn’t like that idea. But I also knew that if I took a teaching job and left it after a year, suddenly there’s be this weird pattern on my resume that would not look good.
I fretted about it all during May and June while I applied for jobs and interviewed.
When I returned from Texas in mid-June, I was frustrated with the job search. We decided to go ahead and try for a baby instead.
Well, I didn’t end up with a job, and for good reason I hope. I hope it’s because we’re going to end up with a baby. I’m hoping God spared me from having to make the decision to leave my infant at home. I know so many women who do go back to work, and I don’t know how they manage it all.
So here we are. Just a little bit pregnant.
Do I know that there’s a significant chance this pregnancy won’t work out? Sure. Will I be hurt if it doesn’t? Well yeah.
But I’m not going to let the anxiety suck me in. I’m not running to the doctor for betas and early ultrasounds. In fact, I haven’t even made an appointment yet.
I’m just hanging out, gestating. Letting myself dreamily peruse websites full of baby stuff for the first time. Researching names without trepidation. Praying away the anxiety when it gets loud, occupying myself with projects that don’t allow me the time to worry.
I am, for possibly the first time in my life, allowing myself to not consider the worst and only hoping for the best.
Maybe I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, sure. But maybe I’m also allowing myself to fully experience joy.
Time will tell.
First, congrats on being a little bit pregnant! I remember back in March when I wrote my post about being one and done, you commiserated with me and said you weren’t sure y’all would have another one either. So, how exciting that you’ve decided to add to your little family!
And secondly, I also had a very early miscarriage at five weeks. I’d barely been pregnant, and yet the loss was devastating. I tried to hold it together but ultimately ended up just like you, sitting on the floor crying until my bones hurt. Keening – that’s a good way to put it.
I’d been charting; in fact, we’d been trying in earnest for seven months and I’d been off birth control for a year. After my miscarriage, I tossed my charts and my basal body thermometer and threw myself into a hardcore exercise routine and tried to stop thinking about all things baby. It was my dad, of all people, who said to me, “Stop trying to control the uncontrollable. Just have sex.” So, I did. And one month later I was pregnant again.
She’s now two-and-half years old going on twelve.
Kristin, that post made us really sit down and get serious about the direction of our family in regard to size. I appreciated the honesty of it.
While I was originally content with just having my son, I realized that he really needed a sibling. We are so far away from family and I want him to have someone to grow up close with.
Also, I came down with a ridiculous case of baby fever. Like, torturous.
I think modern women like to think we’re in control of things, so we chart, we “take control of our fertility” and all that. But life is going to do what life is going to do, and all the betas in the world won’t make a pregnancy stick if it’s not going to.
It’s hard to just let go, but I’m hoping it results in more happiness and less stress!
I have everything, everything, everything crossed for you. Wishing you the very best. CONGRATULATIONS!!
Thank you! I really appreciate that.
I pray for Ruffle Butt every day, and can’t wait to see her (or him) in March. I’m not a fan of “everything happens for a reason” because I don’t want to think what it would mean for me. But, it is the perfect time for you to be gestating, it seems. Enjoy this pregnancy. Even without drinks of various kinds, it can be lots of fun.
I dreamed last night that I was drinking sangria because I was so thirsty and it tasted so good, but I was screaming NO NO NO NO! You can’t drink!
So yeah, I’m missing our cocktails. And our sushi.
So. Much. Love.
(Also, I could never keep that secret either. Gotta share the joy!)
I want to leave a comment. At the moment I think I am a little overwhelmed with what exactly to say. I’ve been through years of infertility and miscarriage and I do have a gorgeous healthy nearly 4 year old. My heart is hopeful for you!!
I’m sorry for your heartache, Ducky. How wonderful that you were able to have your daughter.
I hope by overwhelmed you don’t mean offended or upset.
Thanks for commenting.
I’ll enjoy the cocktails while you cook the baby. Deal?
Well, of course. All is right with the universe there.
I’m so glad that you chose to share. This way we can all support you while you share your worries and your triumphs.
Because those worries are all normal.
xo
I’m…normal?
Thanks for being there, Leighann.
I understand some of your feelings, having experienced 3 miscarriages myself. I’m praying that this lil bean sticks around! Sending you lots of positve vibes!
I’m so sorry for your pain and losses. I hope you haven’t given up on creating a family.
Thank you for your positive thoughts!
Gosh, this is a really sweet post….I’m glad you’re not letting anxiety control you. When I was 8 weeks along, a friend who was pregnant at the same time miscarried. A few weeks later, another did. So, I worried for months and months about it. Worrying solves nothing. So hang out, gestate, and I’ll pray for that little fetus of yours!
Worry is totally a waste, I agree. Easier said than done to eliminate it though. Doing my best! Thanks for your prayers.
Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it doesn’t get you anywhere.
I try to think of that every time my anxiety creeps up, which is a lot lately, and sometimes it helps. You’re pregnant, and that gives you every right to be happy. Enjoy it. I’ll enjoy the cocktails for you.
Girl, do you even have TIME to drink cocktails?!
Congrats on being just a little bit pregnant. I know how you feel… trying to enjoy it all while trying to not stress out about every little twinge is hard.
I had a miscarriage and then a blighted ovum after that… it was horrible. Worst time of my entire life. But then I got pregnant again and now I have I very busy, healthy, & happy 2 yr old boy.
Don’t worry. Things will be alright. And enjoy the perusing the internet for baby stuff!
Seems like we were on the same track there!
It’s almost like I had to give myself permission to enjoy this pregnancy. I appreciate all the encouragement.
This makes me want to cry tears of happy joy! It’s so in our nature to be anxious, but what joy we miss out on when we let it take over. I’m so happy for you and I’m praying for the best too!!!
Thank you SO much, Lenette!
I now believe that every baby deserves to be celebrated, no matter how long or short his or life was. And I worried my little head off when I was pregnant with D and have vowed not to let it rob me should we get pregnant again. I’m glad you’re sharing this journey with us!
Thanks for being here with me! And you just let me know when you get my room ready in that big new house ok? I’ll be right over.
Thanks for sharing this. I pray that your “little bit pregnant” turns into another birthday to happily celebrate.
That’s a sweet wish.
I like the way you put it.
That first miscarriage was so totally a me too moment. The not wanting and then wanting once it was gone. The tears. It was heartbreaking. I too share as soon as I see lines. I didnt that first time. No one really knew when I miscarried since it was early. That first following mother’s day afterwards I wanted to scream I AM A MOM TOO! I had a baby a real baby. Even if only for several weeks.
Enjoy this pregnancy. This time right now. There is absolutely no reason to believe that this child wont be causing you sleepless nights in 9 months.
You are absolutely right! I will appreciate those sleepless nights. I will.
You rock your five weeks, woman!!
Yeah! And I still have part of the bump from the last kid. Bwahahah!
You know I’m rooting for ya all the way over this side of the pond, yes? xo
Yep.
I appreciate it too!
I think pregnancy and successfully carrying a child is one of the most underrated things ever. I was always an anxiety ridden mess. I will be cheering you on!!!!
No kidding. Some people make it look so easy and I’m like, why aren’t the crazy too?!
This line had me cheering: “Maybe I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, sure. But maybe I’m also allowing myself to fully experience joy.”
Sending you lots of prayers for joy. xo
Thank you, Shell.
What a beautiful story. I’ve let anxiety and worry squash my hope so many times since I had my son. I hate that I’ve let it take so much away. “Considering the worst” sounds so much better than agonizing and panicking over every single what-if. I’ve found so much comfort and inspiration in this post, and I wish you the best. *hugs*
I’m so glad, Melissa! I hope we can both let go and try to enjoy what is instead of worrying about what could be.
Many congratulations!
I have had two of five pregnancies end in miscarriage. The others ended successfully in a boy (7), a girl (4.5) and two girls (15 months today!). And since my first pregnancy was a miscarriage, I worried every second of the last four. Although, I only worried for one day with the fourth because I started bleeding the morning after I peed on the stick. once you’ve experienced that loss, that nagging worry stays with you… I’ll keep my fingers crossed for sticky vibes!
I’m thinking very positive thoughts for you and your family. This is going to be the ideal pregnancy and you’ll have a perfect baby (a little girl this time, maybe). I know you are such a good mother!
Keep writing…
I agree that each day is a moment to celebrate…because this baby is real and exists no matter how tiny! I hope all goes well!
Prayers,
Michelle
http://normalchaosforamultitaskmom.blogspot.com/2012/07/the-beauty-of-rose.html
Congratulations, lady! I’m one of those people who tells as soon as the stick comes back blue, too, because I can’t make it a secret. It’s life in a glorious microcosm of frenetic division, cohesion, love and joy. It’s life, even when it crushes your heart and makes it impossible to breathe. The joy of it, in sharing, is just so worth it. Thank you for sharing it with us.