I am not, for the most part, a fearful or worrisome person. It is not something I would use to describe my character. My mother? Yes. Me, not so much. But I have this pain memory that, when situations repeat themselves, or seem to, then I fear. The it'll-never-happen-to-me-oops-now-it-did-so-now-it-can-happen-again fear.
Last summer, I miscarried. Sad, yes. I don't think it ruined my life, or dramatically/traumatically affected me. Life happens, and miscarriage is sometimes a part of life. I recovered, not overly mournful, (overly hormonal definitely) but life went on. And I was not "greatly" affected. At least, I didn't think so.
But then, I got pregnant again.
Last time, in what would have been my fifth child, I was elated. I thought it was hilarious. I was amused by what was clearly God's desire for us to have more children. I mean, really, how can one not think that, when that birth control's odds against pregnancy are 99.8%? It was a blessing, a gift, a "word from the Lord," if you will. A pretty clear one, in my thinking, and seemingly in the thinking of everyone else.
When I got pregnant again (and though it was not "planned" per se, it was not really ever a question of "if", for me, I pretty much knew I wanted to have another baby, thought I was "directed" to have another baby) I was not only fearful of a repeat occurance of miscarriage, I was fearful of what others would say. You know the whole, wow 5 (or six rather, since my husband has a daughter who is essentially mine too) is a big family, and worries by family of how I was going to manage sanity-wise, financially, stress-wise, etc. Why the sudden change of perspective from me or anyone else? If last time it was a clear blessing, why would this time be considered "losing my noodles" or "irresponsible"? Why would it be any different, in that respect?
I got my first ultrasound (in office) that showed a good heartbeat, at 8 weeks. Phew. Bececause last time I heard no heartbeat, ever. So we told our family. Some of whom responded less than enthusiastically. Because they worry about me, they say. But I was putting on a smiley face, so why your gloom? I'll manage. At 12 weeks, another ultrasound showed again a strong heartbeat. We were now passed the time when most miscarriages occur. But I indirectly, or subconciously, or something decided not to make any sort of public announcement. It wasn't a secret. Just not telling the world. At my 16 week appointment, I again heard a good heartbeat. 160 bpm. That same week, my "other" daughter also came for her summer visit, and we finally told her the news (rather than share it on Blogger or something). So now I was "free" to tell the world. But still, I was reluctant to share the news. Why? This is not me.
And I realized, I'm fearful. Fearful of criticism, yes, but also fearful of losing a baby. Again.
It's weird to realize something like that. Something that is a bit out of your own character. (like when I realized how selfish I am. WHAT!! Who, me?
Even more strange is to realize it's not just a fear of unexplained miscarriage, but the fear that the one ibuprofen you took, or the nights spent sleeping on a heating pad to get some relief so that sleep will come, fear that I might be in a carcrash - all those things could hurt, deform or kill this life growing inside me. And what that could do to me.
Fear - You are so unrecognizable to me. And so weird. I don't like you. Go away.
