Man, I fucking hate this sometimes.
I mean, generally I love this. This being pregnant and the miracle of life and everything associated with it. But damn it, sometimes I hate it, and I can't SAY so because saying so will kill my baby. Seriously. That's what I feel like. I feel like if for one second I'm not the picture of gratitude and motherly humility that the baby will die because I don't deserve her.
That's part of what I hate... I hate feeling like I'm walking on egg shells, like everything I do or don't do, everything I THINK is going to have some sort of superstitious repercussion and something bad is going to happen. Because I wasn't grateful enough, I didn't want it enough.
And ya know, on the subject of wanting it enough, let me tell you: After losing a baby at 14-15 weeks and then passing a perfect half of her incredibly tiny SKULL -and everything inside it, dear God- into the toilet 3 days later because the doctors did a fucking D&C (Dilate cervix, knock out mother, go in vaginally and literally hack the baby to pieces, then suck it out. Seriously. That's what they did. At 15 fucking weeks. Living in a small town and having only a rural Catholic hospital with out-dated surgical procedures can suck.) and didn't GET EVERYTHING, I don't know that there's anyone in the world that WANTS IT MORE. Because really... Do you want to picture that for a second? Seeing something like that in the toilet? Because I don't and I CAN'T STOP, so excuse me if there's a little bit of post traumatic stress going on here and every time I go to the bathroom I'm waiting for the blood. Every single time.
Which is, like I was saying, part of the reason I HATE this sometimes. I can't just be happy, there has to be this underlying sense of fear and danger and oh no what if... I can't STAND IT. I can't STAND that this tragedy, this enormous fucking thing that crashed down on my life 4 years ago robbed me of the ability to just be grateful, and instead I'm left with this constant nagging terror.
I hate that I feel like I'm over reacting to everything. I hate that when I can't feel the baby move and kick like people say I should be able to, I assume she's dead. I hate that when I think I CAN feel something I second guess it, so it seems like I never feel her move at all. I hate that I don't feel like I'm showing as much as I'm supposed to, that every week I google pictures of women as far along as I am and compare, becoming terrified until I can find a stomach that looks like mine and feel more normal.
I hate that people don't ask about how it's going or what's happening with the pregnancy, when I really do want to tell them but I don't want to intrude. I hate that they don't ask because this has all gone so badly before, and they don't want to get too invested, just in case, because they know what it did to me last time and they're afraid if they encourage me it'll be all the worse when it all goes so terribly wrong... I hate that The Boy is one of those people -- that he has concerns and worries and things he can't talk to me about because he doesn't want to crank my nervousness up any more than it is. I hate that because he doesn't ask, it feels like he doesn't care, and that makes me even more nervous. I hate that I don't have anyone to talk to...
Sometimes, I just hate it. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hate it, I'm so sorry that I FEEL this way... Most of the time, 98 per cent of the time, I love it so much that I ache with it... It's just that other tiny 2 per cent, that tiny little bit of time that the fear and the paranoia and the uncertainty overwhelm and I feel like I'm left standing in the middle of the field where my LIFE used to be, with everything blown to hell. Worse, I feel like I'm the one destroying it because I can't just be like everyone else, I can't just be happy, I can't just suck it up and do what other people do and what the hell is wrong with me?
Why can't I move on, why can't I just forget about that other baby, the one that died? Why do I have to spend so much of every day talking to myself out loud, just so I can hear a human voice say, "It's going to be okay. You don't need to worry. It's all going to be okay this time." I feel so pathetic sometimes, and I just fucking hate it... like right now, I just hate this. I hate feeling like this, and I'm so sorry because I really do want this baby more than anything, and I am so grateful, I swear I am...