Oh sh1t! (urban dictionary): The exact moment of realisation that you have done something insanely stupid
So many people say “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” when talking to the baby loss or grieving community. I know that it’s meant in kindness, but I occasionally think “yeah you can, just try. Have you not tried?”. So instead, I have tended to say “I can only imagine…” in order to show solidarity. Helpful tip? Hope so.
That said, I’ll tell you one thing I actually can’t imagine now: I can’t imagine enjoying any of the early weeks of pregnancy, anymore. I can’t imagine a positive pregnancy test being anything but terrifying. I can imagine tears, but I can’t imagine them being happy ones. It makes no sense; my dream that is also my nightmare. Is there a word for that?
I mentioned here, that one of the first things I said when we received our first ever positive pregnancy test was “oh sh!t!”. After nearly a year of trying to conceive, it was an exclamation of surprise, but if there’s a ‘next’ time I fall pregnant, I think it may be closer to the urban dictionary definition of the phrase above; for surely, it is nothing short of insanely stupid, to invite such fear back into our lives?
Aside from thinking it stupid, it makes me so sad. It’s sad that I really do think that a lot of the blissful happiness, will be completely gone now. Trying for a family will not be an exciting time, it will be frightening. Now that we’re in the recurrent miscarriage club, the odds are not in our favour.
I’m getting angry again, because I always loved being pregnant and I feel that that’s been taken from me now. I’ll be in yet another unwanted club: the pregnancy after loss, one. But talk of rainbows won’t help, my rainbow baby died, remember? I feel robbed. It’s the realisation, that ‘next’ time will be very different for us. We know too much now. Before Summer, I only knew that first trimester miscarriage was possible, now any loss feels probable. There’s a tonne of worry.
We’ve not got the medical green light to try again yet, but I’m already worried…
- That a negative pregnancy test, will be a relief
- That I won’t bond with another pregnancy (and the long-lasting guilt and regret that comes from that attempt at self-preservation, whether it’s a positive outcome or not).
- That I won’t be able to enjoy it or relax, until I’m in the third trimester, which is SUCH A LONG TIME. 24 weeks of worry, as a minimum. That’s 6 months, half a year.
- That we’ll have to attend another cremation, because pregnancies do not just disappear. We have already chosen the two songs for the ‘next’ cremation though.
- That we will have to quickly come up with a cute nickname for a pregnancy, that has longevity for use in this blog (you know, for when s/he dies before we can give them a ‘real’ name).
- That this blog will go from “that poor woman who had three losses” to “that tragic woman who had four”, but that it will be highly entertaining for voyeurs, to watch me lose my mind again.
- That events in the next pregnancy will escalate somehow, because the pregnancies keep lasting longer, but get more and more traumatic each time.
- That I might not be able to think happy thoughts. Might that harm the baby? Happy thoughts didn’t seem to help the first two times, though.
- That I’ll feel guilty for not going all-in and fully embracing being pregnant, when so many people would love to be in that position (like me, right now, I would – in theory – love to be there!).
I am desperately hoping though, that I may be able to surprise myself. That today is just a bad day. That the event itself may not be as bad as the anticipation of it, just like so many events: the baby shower, due date, first Christmas, NYE and first birthday (mine and Summer’s). But I just can’t imagine how that would be possible. I can’t imagine.
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