The fear is so real now. The intensity makes me feel so vulnerable, and no matter how hard I try to comfort myself with statistics, or logic, or chocolate…it continues to haunt me wherever I go.
Ultrasound is a week away…next Thursday morning I find out if this baby survived this crazy trimester with me or not. It will be a yes or a no. Simple. It will confirm if I will be okay or not. Yes or no. I have faced the 12 week mark many times, and 50% of the time I either lost the baby before I even got to this point, or I went for the ultrasound and saw that baby had died but my body hadn’t realized it…this is my ultimate fear.
This missed miscarriage I refer to happened in the early months of 2010. I had already lost one baby, and we were lucky enough to conceive right away the following months (this was long before our fertility problems). That trimester I was extremely excited!!! I had a lot of nausea and vomiting, no bleeding, no cramping, lots of cravings – this was it! I remember the night before feeling too excited to sleep. I wanted to have a baby so badly. I really thought that I was 100% definitely pregnant and that this baby would arrive on October 2oth 2010.
At the ultrasound, we instantly knew something was wrong, as the baby looked too small for a 12 week fetus. It turns out, our baby had died at 8 weeks, but my placenta continued to produce hormones so I still had pregnancy symptoms. I was tricked by my own body to think I was healthy and pregnant and the baby was fine. I remember the betrayal I felt, the embarrassment, the shame. I felt the sadness, the anger, the vulnerability. Anuj and I went to our car and just cried together for so long. Our life changed that day.
I know too much, I’ve seen too much. I cannot naively tell myself that because I’m vomiting and I’m not bleeding that the baby is okay. I know that babies can have defects. I know that my body has failed 4 of my children to make it into the world. I don’t have any trust left. I have no armour against the pain and loss I might feel next Thursday.
Up until this point, I have barely thought about Rainbow. I joke about it; I say things like “if Rainbow is there” or “if Rainbow stays” but that’s as far as my connection goes. I don’t picture a little fetus inside me. I don’t let myself talk to the baby, or have expectations that it will actually survive pregnancy. That’s stupid. I’ve done this a hundred times before, why should I believe now??
But the thing is, if I go to the ultrasound and it shows baby is totally fine and healthy – I have no idea what to do with that information. I don’t know how to process that. I’m not even going to bother worrying about that yet. If baby is fine, then I will figure it out after the scan. But right now, I’m pretty convinced something will be wrong.
All my care providers keep urging me to be positive…they say to have hope and to have faith. They say I’m too stressed. They say that I won’t have another loss. Random well-meaning relatives tell me that this baby will be fine because it is Manav returning to me…they say that God is good and will give me another child. I try to speak out and say no, Manav will never be here. I try to honour my feelings and say no, I don’t feel positive. I feel scared. I feel terrified and alone. I feel so intensely stressed. I feel like I am carrying my family on my back (or rather, my uterus). I am the key to everyone’s happiness. If I can bring this baby into the world safely, Avi gets his happy mother back – free of the vomiting and exhaustion and the tears. If this baby makes it, Anuj and I will find joy again. Our friends and family will breathe again. I can return to work and give it 100% again. I can smile again. I can close up the baby making business and never have to go through pregnancy again. I will win.
If the baby doesn’t survive…my family and friends will be pulled into a hurricane of grief again. I will fall apart again. I will break inside all over again. Avi will watch me unravel and I will need to find even more strength to crawl back to him. Deep down, my worst fear is that I will refuse to try again. I will refuse to hope again for another child. Despite the 6 healthy embryos waiting for me at the clinic, I don’t know if I can do it again. I don’t know if I can face the pain again.
I’m scared. Please universe, I need next Thursday to be a good day for us. Please.