Well…it turns out that this little bean may be sticking around. Or it may not. It turns out that while I am (?) indeed preggo, my numbers are really low and so I won’t know if I am still pregnant or not until another blood pregnancy test on Wednesday. If the HCG/pregnancy numbers at least double, then I am pregnant. If not, then I will be having myself my fourth miscarriage since January of this year. Feeling frustrated and impatient? Welcome to my world.
I woke up today feeling a little different. Better different. As in, less pregnant different. I still feel insanely tired, but the nausea, hunger, and feeling bloated has gone noticeably down. I am not happy with this. I am probably one of the last women on earth who took immense comfort in these uncomfortable early pregnancy symptoms.
I recall saying that I will be ok with either outcome, but I did not consider the whole waiting period until we know what the true outcome really is. Part of me- the impatient, slightly illogical, hormonal part, wants to throw a tantrum and cry and demand that someone give us answers as to why this keeps happening. (See “hormonal” above). I stand corrected- answers AND a working solution. Or just skip that whole mess and just give us a baby. (That would be the illogical part). Cause in the end the three of us just really, really want to be a family of four. Is that too much to ask?
Part of me feels frustrated. The vast majority of women can conceive and carry for the full nine months without much ado. They usually bring kids into the world and sometimes do not fully appreciate on a deeper level just what miracles those little guys are, and how blessed and lucky they are to have a child. I think when folks like myself have to go through heaven and H-E-double-hockey-sticks to bring a child into the world, we tend to appreciate ALL of the parenting experience.
Tantrums? Yes ma’am.
Sleepless nights? You betcha.
Destroying our old DVD player AND new one by jamming peanut butter crackers into the DVD slots? Well….yes. I’m going to have to say yes even to that, and here is why:
It is due to a culmination of spending years trying for and failing to conceive a child; saving up a small fortune to pay for invasive, painful, violating fertility treatments to inch closer to our dreams of parenthood, then going through the Worlds Most Difficult Pregnancy fighting continuously to give said child the best chances of making into the world and be as healthy as possible.
We loved this child for YEARS before he was even conceived. We cried for him, prayed for him, laughed over him, discussed and planned for him while laughing, crying, and praying some more. For YEARS we prayed for those very tantrums, sleepless nights, and broken DVD players that we finally, triumphantly, became blessed with the possibility of experiencing on that fateful October day, the day our son was born.
That being said, here we are going through heaven and H-E-double-hockey-sticks once again to bring a second child into the world. The non-heavenly part, naturally, refers to the joys of multiple, recurrent miscarriages and the -ahem- heavenly effects of such roller coasters on my body; and on C and I’s minds and spirits. But you know what? Eventually we will have our beloved second child, just like we did with our Nathan. That is why I am ultimately okay with these miscarriages, because I know that at the end of this series of storms lies a miracle waiting for us. That miracle, of course, being the second child that we so long for.