panic

The panic has set in, well and truly, over the past weekend.

My nuchal screening scan is tomorrow at 2pm. It dawned on me over the weekend that there was a chance that we would go into this scan thinking we are 12 weeks pregnant, just looking for signs of another Trisomy, but we may leave brokenhearted and empty once again. Just because I feel like crap does not mean I am still growing a little bun.

With each hour that passes I find myself doubting things more and more.


My stomach seems smaller today. It is, isn't it.

I don't feel sick today yet. Not at all. That's bad, isn't it.

I went 4 hours without eating. That means my previously ravenous appetite is gone. I'm not pregnant any more.

Does it seem a little over the top to you? Most people are just counting down the hours until they get another peek at their baby. I wish so badly I could go back to being one of those people.

We both started to worry a little on Saturday, and got the doppler out. No surprise when we could not find a heartbeat. I know (logically) that it was too early. But hearing that sound would have eased so many fears.

But just because I have historically only miscarried at 7 weeks, I can list off (too) many friends who have had losses and missed miscarriages at 12, 13, 16 weeks and so on and so on. I should be excited. But I find myself terrified. I have almost convinced myself that we are going to get bad news tomorrow.

Friday was Lou's birthday. Saturday night at the family dinner, we announced our news. We were scared and wanted to wait but knew they had all guessed anyway. It all seems awfully premature now, and I think I am catching Lou's superstition. I feel like we have gone and jinxed it now.

I think I am slowly losing my mind.

I thought this one would be less panic inducing than my last pregnancy, given we are not 3 months out from the death of our child as we were last time.

How is it worse this time around?

Ten Weeks

I have come back so many times to try and write an entry, and just haven't been able to.

As of today, I am ten weeks pregnant.

Just typing that scares me. It scares me that it could still end at any moment. It scares me so much that I think I am still in some kind of protect-my-heart-denial.

The same denial that I wrapped myself up in each time I was pregnant, and each time I miscarried. The same denial that prevented me from falling apart each time I lost another precious little baby. I just took it all in my stride. I was so tough.

I wasn't tough. I wasn't a "trooper". I was in denial. I still am. He has graduated to Fetus stage. He looks like a real baby now. But I still can't quite wrap my head around it.

I had a bunch of things that I wanted to do to celebrate, to commemorate this pregnancy. Photo series', collecting pieces of fabric each week to put together to make a little baby quilt for the baby...but I haven't been able to bring myself to it. I just can't.

And every day that goes by reminds me that I am letting all this pass me by, too afraid to feel anything.

Except nausea.

I feel that 24 hours a day.

counting chickens

Brrr it is so cold here right now. I'm under a blanket in front of the heater and I'm still cold!!

Things seem to still be ticking along well *touch wood* no bleeding so I'm ahead of last time at least. Things still feel like they are different this time - Lou agrees, and so does my soul sister...but we all know that could mean everything or it could mean nothing.

Just recovering now from the long weekend we had (thanks Queenie) with a busy day on Sunday and a renovating day on Monday. I'm starting to feel so overwhelmed with how much needs to be done to this house before we put it on the market! Of course this ends up with me doing absolutely nothing because I dont know which of the 10,000 things to do first!

I was packing up all of Manny's little baby things into crates to store, and was thinking "Oh I really hope we have a house with a nursery by the time I need any of this again" then I realised...that might be only 6 months from now :-o! I am certainly not counting my chickens, but every now and then it hits me that this might actually be it....

I still have the hpt next to my bed. I still pull it out and stare at it at least twice a day with a stupid grin on my face.

That's wierd, right?

Chicken Image from digitalproductionme.com

Absence.

You may have noticed I've been absent. Then again, maybe you haven't. Well here's your update: I've been absent. Not only absent from my blog, but I feel like I've been sort of absent from my life.

Things keep moving on around me, and I feel like I am standing still.

Everyone around me is pregnant (or so it feels. I am up to 8 pregnant friends now). If they aren't pregnant, they are trying. And here we sit, out of options. No more trying for us. Some days I can hardly bear it.

It feels like this immense failure has brought back some of the deep rooted sadness that losing my boy gifted me. I feel like I have been living with it lying dormant, just under my skin, and this current state of failure has brought it back out. Like a blanket it settles over me and I can't shake it off. I am close to tears most moments of most days. I feel like I am only now realising that I also lost two (three?) babies this year as well. I didn't let myself feel it before now because I was still moving. I was going forward, I was thinking "Right. Next step! Let's get going, time's a-wasting". But now there is no moving forward. There is no next step.

And I am a little over a week from the date I should have been giving birth to my first little lost one of 2010. A week. I would have had a baby by Christmas. It barely seems possible.