It seems I spoke too soon.
At about 4:30pm today I was driving to pick up Isa from her grandfather’s house (she was “home” sick), when I realized that I was intensely hungry but not the least bit sick. I sat with the feeling, exploring it, and realized that not only did I not feel like I needed to vomit–despite my ravenous hunger–but that all manner of food sounded appealing.
And just like that, I was sure my pregnancy was over.
Of course I know that symptoms come and go. My own symptoms with my daughter disappeared so suddenly at 9 weeks that I demanded an ultrasound to make sure everything was okay. But I’m only 6 weeks, it feels way too early to be losing symptoms, especially when I’ve been so sick for almost a week and a half.
I had a little freak out, text messaged a few friends, and shed a few tears. I knew it wasn’t over for sure, but I had lost all hope.
Then I went home and googled loss of pregnancy symptoms and ended up on a missed miscarriage board and before you chide me for my stupidity, let me tell you that it actually helped. Reading those stories, dozens upon dozens of women who’d seen the heart beat at 6 or 8 or even 10 weeks only to not see it on a subsequent ultrasound, reminded me how anything can happen, how far I have to go.
I’m only just six weeks today. It’s too early to go in for any kind of reassurance ultrasound; if they didn’t see a heartbeat they’d just tell me it was too early. All I can do is wait for Tuesday, and hope that we see a heartbeat then.
But we may not. And even we do, we may not see it at a later appointment. There are no guarantees in first trimester pregnancies. There are no guarantees in pregnancy ever.
Honestly, at this point, I’m doing okay. I had my freak out and I reminded myself that whatever happens, I’ll be okay. And I really do believe that. I am also reminded of how much I have, of how insanely lucky I am to have my amazing daughter, who just lights up my life. She is such a joy right now, politely asking for the music (or whatever else) she wants, saying please and thank you and you’re welcome. Giving me smooches and asking for them in return. Every moment with her is pure, undistilled joy, and being here again, in the precarious throes of early pregnancy, I am reminded of what an absolute miracle she is and how incredibly lucky I have am to have her.
Whatever happens with this pregnancy, I will still have my daughter. She will still have arrived safe in my arms almost three years ago. I know I have so much more than so many people struggling with infertility and pregnancy loss. And I never, for one moment, take what I have for granted.