Thank you all for your kind comments and your assurances that it’s not over yet. And I know it’s not. It’s not that I believe it’s over, it’s more like I am reminded that nothing is guaranteed. I don’t think I realized how swept away in the surprise BFP and high beta and the intense morning sickness until it all came to a screeching halt. I actually needed that reality check to put things back into perspective.
It’s not that I believe I have less of a chance of seeing a heartbeat because my symptoms have lessened. (Today I have been feeling waves of nausea off and on, but the interims have been very mellow and I’ve been able to eat a lot more (at least a greater variety of food) today than in the last week and a half. I’m trying to celebrate how good I feel instead of lament what it might mean). This change in symptoms has been more of a reminder that nothing was ever guaranteed. And honestly, I’d rather go to that first appointment with a realistic view of my chances.
What I feel right now is more like resignation. I am resigned to the fact that I just have no way of knowing what the outcome will be. No amount of nausea can assure anything. Where there used to be giddy excitement, now I just feel a heavy acceptance of what these next months (if I’m lucky) will be like.
You know, I don’t think I ever mentioned it here, but this pregnancy brought into sharp relief just how far I’d come in my journey to acceptance about probably never being pregnant again. A huge part of my heart had come to a place of peace about not having another biological child and looking more seriously into fostering to adopt. It wasn’t until I actually saw that BFP and really believed that I was pregnant that it hit me: Now I have to be pregnant again. Now I have to live through this uncertainty.
I wasn’t mentally prepared for this. I wasn’t ready to be in this position. I thought that was a great gift, that by not expecting it I would be better able to accept whatever outcome might come to pass. But in a lot of ways it’s been difficult. I just wasn’t mentally and emotionally prepared to deal with the uncertainty. I’ve spent a lot of time these past two weeks managing my anxiety, trying hard to just be.
I also realize that there is a part of me, a huge part of me, that wants very badly to just be done with this. I want to be done building my family and move the fuck on with my life. If this pregnancy doesn’t work out, I don’t know if I’ll have the resolve to keep going. I don’t know if I’ll be able to embrace the months of our specialized diet, and throwing hundreds of dollars away on acupuncture, just for the possibility be in the same position as I am right now; one of absolute uncertainty.
I’m not saying that if this pregnancy ends I’ll definitely walk away, but I am saying that I’m not sure what I’ll do. I forgot how hard being pregnant is. I forgot that getting pregnant is only half of the battle. I don’t know if I’m willing to work so hard for just the chance of having a baby.
I’m just not sure. Of anything really.