Tuesday, August 7, 2012


It's pretty inevitable that you compare each pregnancy to one that ended in a baby, especially when that baby is using the back porch railing as a jungle gym before playing hopscotch on a mutant board she drew... not a baby anymore...

anyway, I realized that at this point in the pregnancy with her, we decided to tell our families.  I mean, what, nine or so weeks is almost a sure thing.

I keep thinking that as time ticks by, I'll be less scared, but that's untrue.  I'm still scared to bits.  Now I have hormones to fuel my crying jags at the drop of a hat or less.

Three miscarriages at right about nine weeks, and I'm antsy and worried and awake in the middle of the night when I should either be working or sleeping.  And alone, did I mention that?  I'm camped out in a nearly empty house again and that's not helping.  I remember too much here.

I am sure my blood pressure has been continuing to be out of whack, and that's contributing to me feeling dizzy very often, especially when I've been traipsing around at work for several hours without a snack.  A few weeks ago I very nearly fainted, and it was mostly irritating to me, since I know full well how to fix it.  I think I nearly gave my boss a heart attack though.  Sweet guy, but fainting isn't something he's likely to let go as "nothing to worry about."  I'd love to say, "Look. It happens.  As does the perpetual nausea, the weird food cravings alternating with hatreds, and the other complaints you don't want to hear about.  In mid-February to mid-March, you can meet the culprit, I hope."  So far, I haven't, because it feels like the sort of thing I should tell a best friend or my mom (HAH!) first, not my boss.

AND now, of course, the song "We're OK" from Rent is playing in my random assortment.  It's a song where the singer keeps saying that things are OK when they clearly are nowhere near OK.  Because it's a reasonably cheerful musical, in the end, she is OK and ends up happy and in love and stuff. 

In a fit of moping at the end of the semester, I spent a lot of time with the Calming Manatees and some friends, trying to cope with it all.  One of my favorite manatee memes is one that says, "When someone asks, 'Are you OK?,' it's OK to say no."  Sometimes it's my backdrop to remind me that it's still true.

So even if I say this nowhere else, I am not OK. I'm scared and pregnant and the only thing that makes it better is waiting it out and letting go of the idea that I have any control over the whole thing, or any thing.

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