Why Does It Feel Like a Race?
October 8, 2011
My appointment on the 4th didn't bring the disappointment I had set myself up for. There's some growth and the beautiful flicker of a tiny heartbeat. I've never felt such relief. It didn't last long though. My next appointment isn't until November 1st and I'm already on pins and needles. It feels like an eternity until then. I just need to keep making it to the next appointment. And then the appointment after that.
A friend came over to drop off her dog for us to watch while she goes to Vegas for her birthday and in our catching up she revealed that her sister has had two more miscarriages since her first one. Her first one was just before we lost Robin. These girls have been like sisters to me for most of my life, but it's always felt like the oldest has had to beat us to every one of life's milestones. When we told her I was pregnant, she practically dragged her husband to bed the minute after she heard the news. I took some slightly sick pleasure when I learned she had miscarried, everything was still perfect in my world and she wasn't going to beat me at this. I was already pregnant and my baby would be born first and there was nothing she could do about it. But then Robin died and I felt like that was part of some universal punishment for being happy that she had failed at something for once. But that means that since March she's had three miscarriages. She's not letting her body heal because of her drive to not fail. Now she apparently needs to see a specialist. I haven't told them I'm pregnant. I'm going to try to keep it from both of them until after the point where we lost Robin. I could say that it's because of compassion, I don't want to stress her into thinking she has to keep trying repeatedly to get her baby, but it's not. I mean, I care that she's messing herself up. But I just want to be able to continue through this pregnancy without anyone's ill wishes. I know she would have them, and she'd probably feel bad about it. But I can't stand hearing people's newborn news still and I'm getting a second chance.
This baby isn't a trophy though. This baby is our child that we've promised to love and teach to love. It feels like a race but the only thing I want to care about is making it to each appointment and not leaving without hope. I want this baby so much, and I don't want to do anything physically or emotionally or spiritually that could jeapordize the outcome.
A friend came over to drop off her dog for us to watch while she goes to Vegas for her birthday and in our catching up she revealed that her sister has had two more miscarriages since her first one. Her first one was just before we lost Robin. These girls have been like sisters to me for most of my life, but it's always felt like the oldest has had to beat us to every one of life's milestones. When we told her I was pregnant, she practically dragged her husband to bed the minute after she heard the news. I took some slightly sick pleasure when I learned she had miscarried, everything was still perfect in my world and she wasn't going to beat me at this. I was already pregnant and my baby would be born first and there was nothing she could do about it. But then Robin died and I felt like that was part of some universal punishment for being happy that she had failed at something for once. But that means that since March she's had three miscarriages. She's not letting her body heal because of her drive to not fail. Now she apparently needs to see a specialist. I haven't told them I'm pregnant. I'm going to try to keep it from both of them until after the point where we lost Robin. I could say that it's because of compassion, I don't want to stress her into thinking she has to keep trying repeatedly to get her baby, but it's not. I mean, I care that she's messing herself up. But I just want to be able to continue through this pregnancy without anyone's ill wishes. I know she would have them, and she'd probably feel bad about it. But I can't stand hearing people's newborn news still and I'm getting a second chance.
This baby isn't a trophy though. This baby is our child that we've promised to love and teach to love. It feels like a race but the only thing I want to care about is making it to each appointment and not leaving without hope. I want this baby so much, and I don't want to do anything physically or emotionally or spiritually that could jeapordize the outcome.
Posted by Amanda Hill. Posted In : Pregnancy