Friday, August 28, 2009

Mixed Feelings, as always.

Just shy of 18 weeks and I definitely look pregnant. In fact, I probably look more pregnant than I should look, but after being the 3rd time that I have been this pregnant, I am told this is what happens. Of course I wanted to look pregnant, but now that I do, I can't help but feel others' judging eyes when they find out how far along I am. So every day I make choices; what cravings do I give into to, which I deny. I add up the calories in my head, make sure to subtract the calories from my workout. It is all within range, so I should let it go. Maybe I just need SOMETHING to obsess over. Something other than obsessing over whether or not it is still alive in there. And I guess obsessing over food is not so bad and gives me some element of that elusive 'control'. Or at least, so I tell myself.
I have been feeling the bubbles for a couple of weeks now. I know this is the movement. I am comforted by it, and yet scared when I go a day and don't feel it. Yes, the rational side of me says that it is normal at this stage not to feel regular movement, but the irrational has her little tiny silent freak out, especially since it has been weeks from my last appointment when I got to hear the tiny miracle heartbeat. Again, Ms. Rational, the bitch, my friend, allows me to ignore these fears by stating that at this point, if something were to happen, there is nothing medically to be done. Although timid to take any sort of comfort in the this pregnancy, I am fully aware that this glorious second trimester may give me the best sense of security (however false) that I will experience. I am out of the 1st trimester neck of the woods and not into the life and death timing perils of the third trimester.
So I sit here, just hoping and praying that there is still a live a baby in there. It is all I can do. Just hope. I am thankful that I was able to build up my hope reserves again after the grief for I need them now. There is no doubt in my head that these hope reserves will be depleted by the end of this pregnancy because I am hoping so damn hard for a little miracle.

We have the next *BIG* ultrasound mid-September....fingers crossed until then, well, maybe for the next 5 months.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

If/When

I feel like I've been living in three worlds; the past, the present, and the future.

Before Jessica died, I think I spent most of my time in the future. See, I am a planner by nature. I planned almost every aspect of my life to that point. My college, my degree, my career, etc. I was in control. I succeeded and attained my goals and it felt good.

When the grief was so raw I lived almost always in the past. The how-it-should-have-beens, and what-was-meant-to-have-beens cycling through my consciousness for the better part of that first year. I was cheated by fate. I was knocked down more than once; slapped in the face, and finally cowered in the corner. The past forced me to reluctantly give up the future.

Then came the present. I had been trying and succeeding fairly well to focus on the job at hand and the family that was here with me. I tried not to take things for granted and enjoy the precious moments of each day. Even with TTC, I had given up on planning when we would get pregnant and stopped temping and all that. It was pointless to live in the past because those moments were gone. It was pointless to plan for the future, because she has proven to be a bitch that will turn and stab you in the back. So the present is where I found myself content.

Now, being what circumstances are, I am living all three of these. Everyday I cycle through optimism for the future, then pessimism from the past, and then finally try and focus on the present. My head is a big messy jumble of thoughts and emotions.

The strange thing (or maybe not so strange), is that when I think back to the past, I mostly think about being pregnant with A. I have so many vivid memories of the milestones in pregnancy I reached with him. I feel like I only have a few(three basically) memories of being pregnant with J. 1. The moment on the playground (probably days after POAS) when I told my playgroup mommy friends I was pregnant. 2. When I was lying on the floor in my son's bedroom, after an extremely rough day at home with him, wondering how the hell I was going to do it with two. And feeling sad and overwhelmed at that prospect. 3. Dancing in my son's music class while I was 9 months pregnant to the shock of the teacher, but enjoying it thoroughly with my son.
Did I just block out the rest of the pregnancy as a defense mechanism? Or was I really that preoccupied that I took my pregnancy with her for granted? I just don't know..

So I am trying to be optimistic. When I talk to Dh and others about 'plans' for "when" the baby comes....in my head I still think (if/when), but at least I've stopped saying it aloud. This is progress, right?