Couldn't have said it better myself. The days for me are fine. I am busy (especially busy with work, which is more like an annoyance) and I don't think about it much. Well, except every time I go to the bathroom. Or look at a calendar. But otherwise I'm good. It's at night when the fear creeps in. Will tonight be the night? Will today be the last day that I was blessed to be pregnant? I am fighting this. I want to fight it. My counselor told me that grief can cloud over your true intuition. So these little tiny pregnancy symptoms that I'm having, are they intuition? Or me just being an anxious freak?
Twice now I've had myself ready to go to the Emergency Room. Until I get ready to go and realize I don't have a thing to say to them when I get there. Um, I have a feeling I am having "silent contractions." Why? Because I read about it on google, that's why. Or that I think my cervix is secretly dialiting but I have no pressure or pain or increased discharge. Because I know what can happen and I just want to be checked out? And why didn't I go to my normal doctor for that?
Well, because he is "booked solid."
Do I have to bypass the receptionist or something? Who do I call to pull some strings or something for me? And what do I say. I just want to be checked. I don't have an appointment until next Friday. It just honestly seems like a lifetime away for me.
I just want reassurance. I want that damn vagina wand to tell me that my cervix is fine. There was absolutely NO evidence that what happened last time was my cervix. Immediately after my water broke I went to the ER and my cervix was closed and hard and there was no funneling.
I hate this guessing game. I hate not knowing. I hate the fact that I want SO badly to know that I won't have to leave this baby in the morgue. Where I left two already.
I want this baby (of course). But I wish they were here. If they were here I wouldn't know this fear or this pain or this feeling that time is literally standing still.
I feel like a broken record. I can remember being a kid and the record would skip and we'd have to put a nickel on it. I wish I could do that. Skip right over the scratches. The scratches put there by me jumping around to Cyndi Lauper when I should have been upstairs doing my homework.
I have no original thoughts. I'm paralyzed with this. I'm stuck. In a rut, we'll say.
I'm sure you are all sick of reading this, too. Some of you might be saying, you should just count your blessings that you are pregnant right now.
I get it. I should. I wish I could shake this. I wish I had confidence that my body would work this time. That it will do what it is supposed to. That it won't let me down.
Im sorry. I'm sorry that this is the only thing I can say.
I called to tell the nurse that I wasn't able to sleep. That when i get into bed I am haunted by my water breaking. That I can't roll over without wondering if when I get there my water will burst.
She asked, "Are you irritated or angry without reason?"
Um. Don't ask my husband that.
"Are you having thoughts about hurting yourself or the fetus?"
Nice question, lady. The fetus? Why does that word make me want to scream at someone?
Irritated without reason much?
I just think-why do you think depression? I don't want to hurt myself. On the contrary, I want to transport me to a place where my body is perfect and will complete this pregnancy.
Anxeity is different than depression. It's just different.
I need to go relax. Nice, soft music. Lights off and a candle burning for Sophie and Aiden. Breathing and focusing and figuring this out rationally.
Contrary to the title of this blog, I am a mother. I gave birth to boy/girl fraternal twins who died shortly thereafter due to exreme prematurity and infection after a premature rupture of membranes. I am blogging my way through this journey that I wish I didn't have to take.