Today I am having a hard time. I seem to alternate days, one being sad and difficult, one being more reflective and something resembling okay. I guess it gets easier after a while, fewer weepy days? But not today.
Today I feel kind of lost and lonely and left out and freaked out. From basically the moment that I found out I was pregnant, so much of my free time has centered around the baby, or pregnancy, or after we had the baby. Planning knitting projects, reading books, chatting on internet forums with other pregnant moms. Buying maternity clothes, and the occasional tiny monkey onesie. Picking out things we’d need once she was here. Now I can’t figure out what to do with myself. Doing the things I used to do, before I started doing those things, just reminds me that I’m not pregnant anymore.
And the other pregnant moms, they’re getting to the parts I never got to with Amy. Assembling cribs and planning their time off from work and starting to freak out about actual birthing the baby. Having baby showers and buying adorable tiny outfits. I feel left out. Left behind. I don’t want to start over, from the beginning. 23 weeks was hard before; the second time will be even harder. And who wants to have to be pregnant for 15 months out of 18 or 20? I wasn’t even thrilled about 9 initially.
And I’m mad, and second guessing. Why? Did we get the best possible care? Was there anything else we or anyone could have done? Will we ever have any idea why this happened, and how it can be prevented in the future? Do I even want to know the answers to these questions? Does it even matter?
We have our follow-up on Wednesday, and I just keep hoping they find out that I had some kind of infection, because that is more or less the only way we’ll get a concrete answer. All of the other possibilities will most likely continue to be possible otherwise. I could have had a “small” placental abruption. I could have an “incompetent cervix.” I could also have simply gone into spontaneous preterm labor. All of these things are so inter-related, and things happened so fast for me, that I don’t think they’ll really be able to pinpoint which came first, but which came first is pretty critical in determining what could be done in a future pregnancy.
And then, the thing I always come back to is even if we do this again and it all works out okay, it changes nothing. We still lost her. We still never got to know her. And I really, really wanted to know her. I’ll bet she would have been pretty great.
I wasn’t really thrilled about the idea of being pregnant, and I found a lot of it annoying and some of it downright awful. But there was something nice about it, too. It was like my own little secret when I was out in the world, early on when no one could tell, and later when she’d move and only I would know. Now I have a different, sad little secret that no one wants to have, and it makes me feel like I don’t quite fit … anywhere, right now.