When I found out I was pregnant with Mo, it was on the heels of a year of struggling to conceive and just months after the ordeal of an ectopic pregnancy. When the good news of another pregnancy came, I knew I wanted to celebrate every minute of it, I wanted to tell the world. I understood all too well how fragile it was, I knew there were no guarantees, but I also knew that celebrating and sharing wasn't going to cause or not cause something to happen. So I told many people right away. I blogged about it from the very beginning. I downloaded pregnancy apps and bought books and soaked it up. I took weekly belly photos from week 5, right after I found out.
Please don't misunderstand, I was scared and nervous the whole time. Bad things happened to friends while I was pregnant that made it even more clear that I was never out of the woods, so I was alwasy worried, every second. But I was also excited and I was able to embrace and celebrate and enjoy my pregnancy.
This time it's different.
I'm pregnant again. It's my fourth pregnancy. So far my pattern is that every other pregnancy works out, so maybe this is a good one. But I don't know. Unlike with Mo, I haven't been able to embrace or celebrate this pregnancy in even the smallest ways. I know logically that celebrating won't bring about bad things, but there is something in my brain that is blocking me from embracing this at all.
I know it's silly, and I know it's unfair to all the women who would sacrifice so much just to be pregnant. I know I owe it to them and to myself to wrap my arms around this and rejoice. But it's like I physically can't. Like my brain is protecting my heart. I don't understand why it's different this time. My sister suggested maybe it's because this time I'm a mother and I know just how much I lost and just how much I could lose again. I think that's a pretty good theory.
Whenever I tell someone about this, they reassure me that it's normal to be nervous and worried. But it's more than that. I was worried and nervous with Mo, but I was also excited and joyous! That part is missing this time. I want this baby, I want it so badly, but it's like if I draw any attention to this pregnancy, the universe will know and might take it away from me. I'm not just scared, I'm disconnected. In a completely irrational and unintentional way.
I will be 15 weeks tomorrow. I'm due November 4. I've had two ultrasounds, one shortly after 6 weeks and another just before 9 weeks, and everything looked great both times. I had an appointment at 12.5 weeks and heard a beautiful heartbeat (after an uncomfortably long time searching), but my next appointment is not until the end of May, and every minute in between is difficult. I wish I could have constant reassurance somehow.
At 13 weeks, I finally let go just a little. I felt like I owed it to this child, if it does make it, to celebrate and document the pregnancy in some way. I know there is plenty of "second child neglect" without my irrational reasons for not giving this pregnancy the attention it deserves. So at 13 weeks I took my first belly picture. Shortly after that I downloaded a pregnancy app to follow along with my baby's progress. I even reached out to a few people due around the same time so we could form a group on facebook to swap stories and advice and support throughout our pregnancies.
So I'm pregnant. There it is, I wrote about it.