When I first started blogging, I never really imagined that I’d get to a point where there was something I didn’t want to write about. I’m a chronic oversharer, constantly saying things and then realizing — too late — that I shouldn’t have said that. As B says, I have no filter.
But then I had a miscarriage. At first, I wanted to talk about it, but decided to wait just in case I changed my mind. Then I didn’t want to talk about it. So I thought I’d blog about other things, but it felt like a lie. How could I be writing about going shopping when inside I was totally and completely heartbroken? I considered emailing some of my blog friends (who happen to be moms) so I could talk to someone privately. You know what’s annoying? Finding out that miscarriages are apparently super common ONLY AFTER I HAD ONE. Why isn’t this talked about more often? I mean, I get it, it’s not exactly a topic people want to discuss. But what the fuck? I felt like something was wrong with me and am still not convinced something isn’t wrong with me and all these people tell me that they’re super common and I didn’t get to know about this beforehand? Because instead of being able to reassure myself that miscarriages are common, I felt horrible about myself, convinced I’d done something wrong and caused the miscarriage, or maybe it was a sign from god that I don’t deserve to have a baby because I’m going to be a horrible mother. Which could still totally be the case, who knows.
The day I found out I was pregnant I’d made an appointment at the gynecologist because I thought I had a cyst on my ovary (I’ve had them before). Right before I went to the doctor’s, I took a pregnancy test because I hadn’t had my period in awhile and maybe I’m pregnant? (Also, am I the only one who takes pregnancy tests even when I couldn’t possibly be pregnant? I have this weird fascination with taking pregnancy tests). Anyway. So it turns out the cyst I was feeling was a tiny baby I guess. But I also found out that I had hypothyroidism. Apparently, it’s really dangerous to have unmedicated hypothyroidism while pregnant. So the day I found out I was pregnant I also went on thyroid medication. And maybe that caused the miscarriage? My OBGYN wasn’t sure. She said it could’ve just happened because miscarriages are common. But now I’m terrified I’m going to have miscarriages forever and I’m freaked.
Two days before my checkup to hear the baby’s heartbeat, I had a really bad feeling I was having a miscarriage. I’d been spotting (which doesn’t necessarily mean a miscarriage, I tried to tell myself) and just had a bad feeling. I get weird feelings about things that usually end up being true, which isn’t really comforting considering the horrible things I think about. For instance, I’ll have a bad feeling I’m about to get a speeding ticket and right when I slow down I pass a cop. Sometimes I won’t believe myself because I always get “bad feelings” about everything but the ones that actually happen feel different. Like when my mom told us she had cancer, the first thought that popped in my head was “oh my god, my mom’s going to die.” I obviously pushed that thought out of my head and told myself I was wrong, but I knew I wasn’t even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself. She passed away a year later. So when B and I went to the checkup, I was really nervous and hoping I was wrong. I wanted the doctor to be able to say “everything’s fine, you’re just being a crazy paranoid pregnant lady.” But that didn’t happen. Instead she said “you’re right. Something’s wrong and I can’t find a heartbeat and the sac around the baby doesn’t look right.” Well fuck. To add insult to injury, I had to take medication to complete the miscarriage (because I had a dead baby inside me) and that was miserable and painful. On top of already being miserable and painful.
This happened a few weeks ago. I finally got my period a few days ago so I can get pregnant again. Which is awesome. And terrifying. Because now I’m going to be a legitimate nervous pregnant lady — and I’ll be holding my breath for 10 weeks until I see the baby’s heartbeat. And then after that for the rest of my life. Which is probably what it’s like to be a parent anyway, but thanks for the mindfuck, life. I’m freaked out and also want to be pregnant so badly. It’s a weird feeling. I’m terrified to be pregnant but also terrified to not be pregnant, if that makes sense.