People keep talking to me about things like baby showers, hospital bags, coming home outfits, installing car seats and internal exams. If only I could just figure out why.
I am 36 weeks today, so I suppose in jacked up layman's terms I am now 9 months pregnant (even though the rest of us know that pregnancy really is 10 months since its 40 weeks, but I digress). How in the hell did that happen? I still feel like I never got out of the first trimester - I mean I do still vomit daily like a first trimester gal. Himself keeps pushing me along and encouraging me to pack a bag for the hospital but I cannot do it for the life of me. I google stupid shit like "what to pack for labor", read the list that comes up and then click on that little x at the top of the window and then go on about my day. I just cannot seem to do it and my only idea is that its denial.
I miss my PICC line - which is probably a weird thing to say, but its such a monumental pain in the ass to go in for a peripheral line and then a few bags of fluids. I can go about 3-5 days in between rehydration depending on a variety of factors, so while not a fluffy pregnancy it's certainly improvement. I did have a baby shower a few weeks ago that was wonderful but it felt like a farce in many ways. Never one to disappoint, I did have to go hurl in the middle of opening gifts. I simply cannot reconcile these pink clothes and toys with a real live baby that I am going to have. In some jacked up place in my mind I am not really pregnant. Maybe its a part first time mom, part infertility, part I have been so damn sick and isolated that it never sunk in that I was pregnant? I wander my house aimlessly a lot lately, almost in shock when I stumble on these little indications that indeed, there just might be a baby here soon. The stroller in the dining room sent me into a total tail spin yesterday - I sat down and just stared at it.
On Monday I had my 36 week checkup - its funny because most women are starting weekly appointments now, hell I never had anything but. It was strangely comforting to me to go back to appointments where I don't wear any pants - considering that's how I got here to begin with. I felt like I was back at SNATCH all over again. I was even more shocked when the doctor told me that I had begun to dilate and was effacing. Huh, that's wild. I even have an induction date for Valentine's Day since they see no need to make me suffer the HG longer, of course it assumes that I have had positive cervical changes - but it looks like that might actually work out. The OB asked what we were going to name the baby and I very deadpan replied, "Emesis. We'll call her Emma for short." I still don't think he's figured out if I was joking.
How do I say on an infertility blog that I have been very angry about how things have gone lately? Is it okay for me to be pissed off that my pregnancy has sucked when others are dying to be pregnant? Is it okay for me to say that when I hear and read discussions about people talking about trying to conceive again it makes me cringe? I am very angry about a lot of things. In my darkest moments I want to scream at the world? universe? powers that be? myself?
You see, there is this really bad, dark place for me right now that says "Was all this really worth it?" I hate even giving voice to that, but I really don't know yet if it was. I am in IVF debt up to my eyeballs (which I know you guys are sick to death of hearing - but God, it was and is a lot of money - dude its a college education), unemployed, and my body is all jacked up from HG. Not to mention the medical bills from the pregnancy. I selfishly want to scream aloud and say "Goddamn it - how much more am I going to have to prostrate myself to the universe to prove that I deserve to be a mom?" I guess that makes me a very bitter person? All I know is that is how I feel.
I mean how can I even consider doing this again - even though we now have IVF coverage? How could I do this to my daughter - make her live through this? How could I do it to Himself? He would essentially be a single parent for a bit. I mean it could be worse next time - I could be stuck in a hospital with the NG tube and not get off easy with the PICC line. How can I run the risk of multiples with another round of IVF - surely I'd be even sicker. Even further - who the hell am I to assume that we'd get lucky again and have IVF work? We all know its all about chance with this shit.
At the same time, I am an only child - so in some ways I can see how LC would thrive as an only. I am blessed with a phenomenal relationship with my mom - she is my best friend. But here's the crux. When my mom and dad die - I am alone in this world - no one else knows my history. If I had a sibling I think it would be more bearable. It will honestly kill me when I lose my mother and frankly I am terrifed of that day. I want LC to have someone who knows her history.
My husband is also the last male in his family line. I desperately want to give him a son. Beyond the name thing I remember the day that I found out that we were having a girl. I had the strangest train of thought and I remember calling a friend and telling her this on the phone; I was overjoyed that I was having a girl, but at the same time I was sad that she couldn't be a boy too. Perhaps that makes me selfish for wanting both, but it is what it is.
There is yet another part of me that desperately wants to try again. The vanishing twin of this pregnancy really haunts me. Sure that baby didn't make it past 6.5 weeks but damn it, I still feel like I lost someone there. I don't talk about it because it makes me sound ungrateful and when I did mention it to a friend all I heard was how glad I should be that I only had one since I was so sick. Well, I was still sad.
I don't know what we will do in the future. It made me angry that infertility tried to rob Himself and I of the family we wanted and we fought like mad against fate and our circumstances - I mean come on people, $25k? Holy shit, I still can't believe we took that leap - but damn it, I refused to be a victim to circumstance. Now its HG. In my heart of hearts I am so afraid that something will happen to LC and that she will be stillborn. I think that may be why I am in such denial. If I start to assume that this baby really is coming - I am afraid that I tempt fate to swoop in and fuck things up some more. I will seriously lose my mind if that happened - I'm talking open mouth, insert gun kind of losing it. In reality, I know the liklihood of that is slim to none but damn I just feel like I can't expect anything to go right on the reproductive train for us. I seriously digress there.
Anyways, I hate to think that HG will dictate what we will do, but one of the OBs last week asked me if I was going to do this to myself again and told me that they wouldn't. Can you imagine how hard that was to hear? At my shower someone said to me - wow, I bet adoption sounds good to you, huh? Because adoption should be viewed as a backup choice, like its second best, huh? That's almost as bad as someone saying, "you can always just adopt." Again those adoptable children are on every street corner throwing themselves at my car as I pass, right?
I swear this whole topic is such a quagmire for us - but let's just say that I don't rule anything out - I still want more children - I just have to see if it REALLY all is worth the price Himself and I have paid. At this point we don't even have a final tally on the price because I dont' know if my child is going to be okay after the meds I have packed into my body and my minimal weight gain. Its all really fresh to me now so I don't have the perspective of time to dull the pain of losing a lot. I also don't have my daughter here yet to tangibly hold and kiss.
I'm sorry for rambling and I probably sound like the most ungrateful bitch - but this is where my head is lately. I think because the idea that we would actually have a real, live baby at the end of this is so abstract I seem consumed with this. I am tired of being a damn trainwreck that's for sure.
