I remember the scene vividly. We were standing in the parking lot of Buffalo Wild Wings (because that’s apparently the appropriate restaurant to visit after being told that you’re going to have a second miscarriage), and I turned to Scott and said, “The first person to say ‘the third time’s the charm’ is getting punched in the throat.” Okay, I might have been a little angry at the time. To your collective credit, not one of you uttered those words during the past few months, so thanks. Much appreciated. That said, it would appear that the third time is, indeed, the charm.
You read that right, folks. I’m pregnant again, and it would appear that this one is a keeper. We’ve got a heartbeat and everything. Today, at 10w4d, I heard the thing with my own two ears, and then I heard something even more surprising. My doctor officially promoted me from “high miscarriage risk” to “regular pregnant lady.”
And, like, I’m supposed to be excited now, right? This is the time when I’m supposed to get excited?
Honestly, I can’t quite get there yet. Maybe in a few weeks when the first trimester is officially over, but even then, I dunno. Scott and I are still all, “Fool me once, uterus…” so the knowledge that this one is actually growing and doing what it’s supposed to do is a hard concept for us to wrap our minds around.
It’s funny. I had no problem delivering bad news to our friends and family. I was cool with being the Miscarriage Ambassador. It made me feel like there was a greater purpose for all my struggles. Lots of people, from my father to my dental hygienist, had loads of questions about failed pregnancies that they were too nervous to ask anyone before. Happy is a weird word to use, but I was happy to help people understand the experience. Once an educator, always an educator, I guess. Then, as each new person came out of the woodwork to share her own story of secret pain, it became more and more apparent that lots of people struggle personally and don’t feel like they have a safe or appropriate outlet to talk about it. So we talked about it, and it was healing. At least it was for me.
Still, after all that disappointment, you’d think Scott and I would be rushing to share the good news. That has not been the case. We’re still stuck in limbo. After each appointment, you’d think we’d feel better, but we can’t seem to shake the caution. I feel slightly envious of the couples for whom excitement comes easy. Most women pee on a stick, see two lines, and know they’re getting a baby. I don’t know what that feels like, and I never will. That’s just my reality. And that’s okay.
That’s not to say that we’re not excited for the (theoretical) baby. Of course we are. It’s just hard to speed into excitement when disappointment is still so close in our rearview mirror. Normally, telling people stuff is how I process (Hello, blog readers!), but that’s backfired on me a bit this time. The more people who knew, the more I felt overwhelmed by pressure and hesitation. All I could think was I don’t want to disappoint these people again. Myself, sure. I can take disappointment with the best of ‘em. But every time I saw a face light up, my anxiety said, “I do not want to be responsible for turning that smile into a frown. It’s too hard. I don’t wanna, and you can’t make me.” Long story short, I now understand why people keep their mouths shut about early pregnancies. I still think suffering in silence if something does go wrong is a steep price to pay for keeping things secret, but I get it.
Yet, here I am making things official, because the time feels right to make things official. Scott and I need to break out of this protective bubble and start getting used to the fact that this thing is likely going to happen. If we don’t exhale and accept this new brighter reality soon, we’ll have to stop by Buy Buy Baby on the way home from the hospital in 6 months because we will have done nothing at all to prepare.
So here goes:
I, a regular pregnant person, am expecting my first (human) child in July 2018.
(BRB. I have to go knock on all the wood in the house.)
If this news makes you jump up and down in excitement, thank you. More power to you, I say! But I also ask you to please understand why Scott and I aren’t quite there yet. I’m sure we’ll be joining you soon. As I was relaying some classic Cristina Yang advice to a friend today, I realized it still applies to me:
“If you want crappy things to stop happening to you, then stop accepting crap and demand something more.”
I need to stop accepting my bad luck as a permanent state and allow myself to make room for something good. That process starts today.
Thank you in advance for your support, well-wishes, and showers of positivity. We couldn’t be more thrilled to add a new life into this already wonderful family. Provided, you know, it actually happens. 👍