CD1. Ugh. I have now been bleeding 5 out of the last 9 weeks. In addition to having horribly painful cramps (always have, used to end up in the ER for them until they finally gave me narcotics for them) it just reminds me that I’m not pregnant. That I should be, and I’m not. I know that Noah is gone, but it still hits me.
We aren’t TTC yet, but a tiny part of me had some hope that a miracle would happen and I would be pregnant anyway. I know another baby won’t replace him, but there’s this part of my brain that knows I should be pregnant right now, and is just screaming at me to fix it. I heard shortly after Noah died that many people try really hard to be pregnant again before their due date. That it’s this magical milestone. I didn’t get it right away, but now I do. It’s this cognitive dissonance. Knowing that you should be pregnant, but you’re not. A part of your brain thinks you should be. And so if it doesn’t happen, you feel like you failed to “fix” that dissonance.
Don’t get me wrong, I am terrified of being pregnant. Terrified of the HG and what it will do to me, my husband, Owen. Afraid that we won’t get the community support with did with Noah’s pregnancy, that we’ve “used it up” some how. Terrified that the same thing will happen. Terrified that something different will go wrong. Terrified that I will never be able to give birth on my terms. Terrified that I will not ever be able to keep a baby with me. Terrified that I will never have a healthy, normal birth without a NICU or funeral home.
But I want to try anyway. The fear of NOT getting pregnant is stronger. The fear of not giving my son a brother or sister close in age that he can grow up with. The fear of my last birth experience being surrounded in death. The fear that I will think my body is broken forever.
And so, next month, we put on a brave face and try. Because not trying is just as hard.