Broken dreams

It's sometimes so hard to see people who got pregnant on their first try, or who got pregnant on accident. It's even harder to see people who have been blessed to go through their pregnancy completely oblivious to the problems of conceiving and the problems associated with complications, including miscarriage. It's quite the harsh reminder that life isn't fair, and that's hard to accept.

Last time I was pregnant, I was fully aware of the risk of miscarriage; I considered myself well-armed with information and knowledge about the risk and statistics. The odds were in my favor for a successful pregnancy, but that wasn't the case. Even though I'd prepared myself as much as I could, there's no way you can fully prepare for the blow to your life it causes. I'd told very few people and I'd not quite let myself bond with the baby, yet I let myself start dreaming about what the future might be like. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would he/she be book-smart or super creative? What kind of birthday parties would we throw? How would we decorate the nursery, and later the toddler's room? When would he/she have a brother or sister? Would he/she want a dog or a cat as a childhood pet? I still kept myself reined in and not get carried away, but my mind would wander to such things from time to time.

This time around, I feel like I'm hardened and cynical. I can't let myself think about things in the future until I make sure things are okay in the here and now. I feel like because of the miscarriage, my right to get excited about this, my right to "make an announcement" about my pregnancy, and my right to revel in this great time of my life have been stolen from me. I hate to be this doubtful person, because I'm usually very optimistic, but I think it comes with the territory. I can't help but wonder why would it work out this time when it didn't last time. I don't buy any of that "it just wasn't the right time, so it didn't happen then" stuff. I know the odds (again) are in my favor, but wasn't that true last time? What's different now?

It's just a phone call

I'm a little bit scared to call the doctor to make my first prenatal appointment. Perhaps part of it is because the last time I was there, it wasn't such good news. I don't really have good memories of that place now (not that I had look-back-with-fondness memories before then, though). Perhaps it's also because then it's like admitting that this might really happen, and I'm too scared to do that at this point. I can be in denial a little longer if I don't call. There's no real hurry to call anyway (I tell myself) because my doctor's office won't see me until eight to ten weeks, and I'm only four weeks as of today. My goal is to get the appointment set up sometime this week. Maybe tomorrow, but maybe I'll wait. We'll see.

I'm feeling pretty good physically. My boobs are pretty sore, but other than that, nothing else is out of the ordinary right now. I've got a major paranoia where I check for spotting every time I go to the bathroom, but I think that's true of most pregnant women, whether they've been through a miscarriage or not. At least, that's what I tell myself.

What's in a name?

I think it's obvious why there's a question mark in the name of this blog. At this point, the fact of the matter is that I cannot be certain that a baby will result from this pregnancy, so it's a question mark in my mind--and also in my heart. I hope that one day I'm able to remove that question mark and perhaps even replace it with an exclamation point. But not today.

The "Baby B" part has a double meaning. Our last name starts with a B, so it partly refers to that. However, it also represents our second baby, because Baby A was the one who didn't make it. So this is Baby B. Baby B.... Man, that sounds weird. Am I really going through all of this again?

Deja vu

Here we go again.

I don't want to say I'm not excited, because I am. Let's just say that I'm reserving my unhesitant excitement for a date to be determined in the future. I should be excited. I should be ecstatic. I should want to call all of my friends and family right now. But things are different this time around.

So what's all the fuss about?

I saw the second pink line earlier tonight. Yes, that pink line. It was unmistakeably there. Sadly, I've been here before, but the end result of that experience was not a baby, but instead a miscarriage that stole my baby from me in November 2005 at 8 weeks and 2 days. But also stolen along with that baby was my innocence regarding the whole process of trying to conceive and going through a (relatively) worry-free pregnancy with nothing to become concerned about. I was well aware of the chance of miscarriage last time, but unfortunately such knowledge was not enough to stop the fate that befell me. I can't help but wonder if that same fate awaits me this time around, too, and it's a very scary feeling.

I want to be excited, but I can't let myself go down that road quite yet because I'm afraid of the heartache and pain that will be compounded if the unspeakable happens again. I feel like I have to prepare myself for the worst, though of course I hope for the best. I'm wiser to the ways of the world compared to before the miscarriage, and I'm well aware of how quickly something so desired can be ripped away despite being so wanted. Nothing is fair when it comes to miscarriage. I don't know when the day will come when I genuinely don't think about the risk of losing this baby, and part of me thinks it won't be until after the little one is safely cradled in my arms. But for now it weighs heavily on my mind, though I know it's all beyond my control now.

I'm starting this blog in an attempt to write my way through the difficult journey I'm about to embark upon, searching for sanity as I go through a pregnancy after a previous miscarriage. I know the odds are in my favor for this to work out, but that didn't exactly work out in my favor last time.

Dare I whisper the due date and pretend I'll actually make it that far this time around? At this risk of looking too far ahead, I'll do it, though it feels like an eternity away at this point.

February 6.

Here's hoping this is really it. Call me a skeptic, call me a cynic, or call me a realist, but I won't believe it 'til I see it.