I Can See Clearly Now
I don't know if I've worded it exactly this way before, but I'm having a really, really, really pleasant pregnancy. No morning sickness, no complications, no health scares, no panic attacks, not even any oh-god-what-have-we-done moments. I'm a lucky mutha.
There has, however, been anxiety, mostly related to having lost a pregnancy before. I asked a friend of mine who'd miscarried at twelve weeks when--if ever--she stopped worrying about losing her second baby, who is now alive and well and almost six months old. At first I hesitated to ask the question at all, afraid the answer would be one I didn't want to hear--that it never stops, that you will always worry, that this is just the beginning, that it only gets worse. I'm glad I asked, though, because her answer was that, for her, the dark cloud of miscarriage dissipated sometime around Week 20, after she'd had the all-clear ultrasound and around the time she was able to feel the baby move regularly.
Myself, I just now had a few bites of donut with rainbow sprinkles and--thump thump thump WHACK roollll--I couldn't agree more that those hourly reassurances that Baby Wombat in there doing his thing have finally put to rest, for me, the fear of another miscarriage. It helps to be lightyears beyond the eight-week mark I reached last time, but there was always the dread of how very much worse it would be if I had another miscarriage further into the pregnancy, when I was lightyears more emotionally invested. First trimesters are hard on a lot of women (and men), but I think there's a special haze in which miscarriers (and infertile couples) experience those early days, when things are most likely to go wrong. It's hard to be elated and terrified at the same time.
Even now, when I'm 99 percent sure we're getting a real, live baby out of this go-round, I have to keep the worries at bay by reminding myself that the majority of pregnancies end happily. That my body knows what to do. That every day people give birth to healthy children with less preparation and information than I have. That tragedies are the exception not the rule. That humans are built to reproduce and I need to trust in that process.
For some people, the pregnancy process is the easy part; it's raising a kid that's hard. I've read what several mothers have written about the panic that overtook them once the baby was no longer safe inside their body but out in the world and exposed to all its dangers. And although I haven't yet experienced myself as a mother with a child outside the womb, so far I think I feel the exact opposite: that once he's out and I can feed him and swaddle him and pat his head and oh, maybe enclose him in a bubble to keep him safe from the world, I will at least have the power and control that will allow me to feel like I'm playing my role as his protector and defender. Right now I can't help feeling like just a vessel; like I can make good decisions and healthy choices but that most of what happens is really out of my hands.
I guess it's that my confidence comes from feeling like I'm an active agent in my own well-being, able to control myself and my surroundings, and I therefore want to do the same for my child. The flip side to that is complete faith in God or nature or fate or even science--things that other people find comfort in but I would trade away in a second if it meant I got to be the Supreme Ruler of My Own Life Forever and Ever. As long as the baby's still inside me, though, those other forces are all I really have to rely on and that's not comforting, it's scary.
After a few months, Simon learned to stop calling me at work to ask how the baby was doing because all I could ever say, truthfully, was, "I have no idea." It's horrible to feel the possibility of doom always lurking in the background of something that we'd like to be calm and blissfull. I mean, I want to be true to the realist that I am, but I also hated spending the first trimester acknowledging that for all I know the baby's already dead and there's nothing anyone can do about it.
Wow. That sure took a turn for the morbid. But that's what happens sometimes: just like the death of a loved one can bring into clearer focus the gift that is life, life can also bring us face to face with death. Yin yang. Sunrise, sunset. Wax on, wax off.
I guess what I really want to say is that for anyone who has been where I've been--pregnant after a loss--the miscarriage anxiety gets better, and might even go away entirely (although to be replaced with other, more practical anxieties, like What if he's not cute? and What if he grows up to vote Republican?). I know that motherhood necessarily engages (or switches into overdrive) the OMGWhatIf part of our brains, but even knowing that brings its own serenity: at least now I don't have to be worried about the fact that I'm worried, since worrying is perfectly normal in this situation.
Come Saturday, I'll be twenty-three weeks pregnant, closing in on the end of my sixth month, if you can believe it. I'm big but not uncomfortable, crabby but not intolerable, thrilled but not ignorantly blissfull, and, thank Jesus and Buddha and the stars and the Fates, CALM. Calm and even confident that, although so much is still out of my control, I can actually do this thing, I am doing this thing, this babymaking, this giving birth, this raising a child. For some women, this is the time at which they discover their hidden strength, their latent power, their true grit. For me, I seem to have tapped into a secret reserve of que sera sera I didn't know I had. I am woman, hear me chill.
Great post. Enjoy this part, it only gets better ;)
I go back and forth between being totally calm and knowing that this is all bigger than me and this baby will be brought to us if it's meant to be and FREAKING THE HELL OUT because it's been 12 hours and I haven't felt sick or tired and was that a slight cramp? SHIT.
I'm 13 wks today, and although I feel like this could stick, this could work, my heart will be THROUGH MY CHEST next week at my 14wk appt because baby, PLEASE PLEASE STILL HAVE A HEARTBEAT.
I know that I can handle what comes, whatever that may be, but the reassuring kicks and protruding belly couldn't come soon enough. And then I kick myself for wishing the time away.
This is why it's very cruel to deprive pregnant women of champagne. (Kidding! Jokes!)
Chill ON, yo. =)
Riiiight. I'm not nearly so serene over here, although I will say that puking is a *little* like feeling the baby move. A little. I mean, it's reassuring anyway.
Jonniker--I can't even count the times I WISHED for puking in those early months. I had no real symptoms to speak of--just like when I'd miscarried--and I was convinced that this pregnancy too was destined for failure. It was hard to hear people say "Be glad you don't have morning sickness!" when I didn't feel they could fully appreciate the limbo I was in. That just goes to show we all have our difficulties--sometimes it's in the head, sometimes it's in the toilet bowl, and sometimes it's both. That said, now that I feel kicks and punches every day (right now!), I really do feel bad for you guys who are sick on top of being worried. BUT IT WILL GET BETTER!
Lovely post - so glad you are enjoying this pregnancy!! I love that you are so calm - my husband told me that he'd never seen me so calm as when I was pregnant. So much to flip out over, yet SO MUCH out of my hands, and I was willing to let it go. I wish I could regain some of that calm now...
Thank you for this post - and for sharing your pregnancy with all of us!
I imagine pregnancy is much easier the more ignorant you are. Sometimes I wish I hadn't encountered blog-land yet because now I know so many terrible ways for things to go wrong. I'm glad you've found your calm---it reassures me.
p.s. I would love if you guys ended up with a mini Alex P. Keaton, all conservative and Republican. Awesome!
So glad you're feeling chill. Sounds like you're doing great. 23 weeks!? Where is the time going?!?
Doesn't the old wives' tale say that an easy pregnancy means that things are going to get really "interesting" once the little wombat shows himself?
We, too, suffered a miscarriage, and it shaped our perception of the entire pregnancy with our nearly 6-year-old son. Other things did, too, but it was a purely "textbook" experience, but with the chapter on vomiting and not feelin' like she was glowing.
I am so happy for you :)
Six months?! SIX MONTHS???? I can't believe it's already been six months!! Is it time for a belly photo update? :)
During the first half of my second pregnancy I referred to the baby inside me (now gorgeous and healthy at 5.5 months) as the DB, aka Dead Baby. My anxiety was labeled DBT, aka Dead Baby Thoughts. It took 20 weeks before I was sure it (she) would survive and could relax.
I, too, had a fantastic (second) pregnancy. Delivery, had I not had delusions of hypnobirthing, would have been labeled pretty damn great, considering pushing her out only took an hour.
The blues/depression thereafter sucked the big one, but that's a boring story.
Glad things are going well for you. Can't wait to see the widdle one.
Thank you for this.
I'm stuck between miscarriage and pregnancy, and I'm already wondering how I'm going to get through the first trimester if/when we do conceive.
As a natural worrier, your post has made me feel more confident and yes, calm, about my (not too distant I hope) future pregnancy.
Wishing all the best for the final months.
As a fellow worrier and a mum of one sweet little boy, all I can advise is to acknowledge the worry then just let it go as swiftly as you can. You started your post by saying how much you're enjoying your pregnancy. It should help to focus on that - these are golden days.
I felt the same way every single pregnancy. And then they come out and you worry about completely different things.
I can't believe you are already 6 months into this. The time has flown by, for me :-)
I can't believe I'm actually doing this, but I really want to tell someone and I really want to tell someone that isn't going to ask me about it every day when I see them...lol.
I stopped taking my birth control last night...we're planning a baby :)
Wow - I can't BELIEVE you're six months. Seriously, where DID the time go? It is good to know that you have reached a plateau of chill.
p.s. - I now cannot stop thinking about a donut with rainbow sprinkles. MMMM.
I think the key to remaining mostly chill once the kidlet is born is 1) never watching the news (EVER EVER EVER), 2) resisting any and all desires to google various symptoms (even if it's "snotty nose"), and 3) listening to other parents' advice with a giant block of salt. Including mine, obviously. EXCEPT I AM RIGHT AS ALWAYS.
(What?)
I totally get where you are at. I was the same as you - losing my first and then pregnant after. I was a little more worried the second time through, but realized that the results were out of my hands.
I still cannot believe you are at 6 months already!
I am in my 8th month of my first pregnancy and only think I am starting to really relax now :) A book called "Fearless Pregnancy" was really helpful. Full of the facts and breaking throuh some of the 'danger' myths about pregnancy, we pick up from others. Good luck - lets just chill and enjoy this amazing experience. There is NOTHING like it is there? We are SO lucky!