Hearing pregnancy announcements, particularly unplanned pregnancies, have been a kick to the gut since about 3 months after we first started trying to get pregnant. It definitely got worse after we got my unknown infertility combined with the hubby's mediocre swimmers and worse still after William and Ethan died. Every announcement was a painful reminder of what my body couldn't do right on its own...get pregnant without assistance or carry my babies to term. As a result I am very sensitive to the affect of pregnancy announcements.
And here is where I am having a bit of an identity crisis...and trouble sharing our news because I am indeed pregnant. And the kicker is it was not planned. I'm not sure how it was possible but it happened.
I will preface everything I about to write with I am grateful and this baby is very much wanted. Let there be no mistake in that. There is a lot of surprise, confusion and fear which takes a person to crazy town every so often and I know that is where most of my mixed up thoughts come from.
With Maxwell just turning one, another baby wasn't a topic if conversation other than, yeah, maybe some day we'll try a last round of IVF. I am completely freaking out about how another baby is going to fit into the mix with a toddler that will not yet be two. The logistics of it all are too much to think about.
I can't quite reconcile my infertile self with the reality of an unplanned pregnancy. I had accepted my fate...pregnancy was not something that could "just happen." We would need help. I found a sense of security in the planning involved in an IVF cycle. But a surprise like this...just getting pregnant randomly has destroyed that identity, the sense of security and what I thought I knew about myself.
And then there is my history of loss, preterm labor and premature water breaking. I am a wreck thinking about how this new baby has such a small chance of arriving without issue. With all I know it's hard not to freak out. I am officially the master of the short end of statistics. Make something improbable and somehow I will be that improbable case.
I can't help but feel a little detached and a hefty dose of denial that this is real...it's sad, but true, that my confidence in this pregnancy resulting in a live baby is almost nil. I fully expect to have a miscarriage or something else to go wrong because that is the kind of luck I have. No pregnancy bliss here.
Of course, the universe saw what I wrote in a previous post about my babies, past and potentially future, being from the same IVF retrieval and thought that was hilarious. This baby is not from "the batch" and I worried that my comfort in the thought all my babies would be batch mates would change how I feel about this baby. I am letting go of that slowly but surely...I have to.
The final kicker, mother lode of stress and heart ache is this...my estimated due date is 3 days before William and Ethan's due date. That means that every pregnancy milestone is nearly identical to theirs...at least until 24 weeks when they made their far too early arrival. The anxiety and tears this realization has brought about shakes me to my core. Yes every pregnancy is different, especially this one, but this is just too much to not freak out about. The week surrounding December 4th is going to be incredibly difficult this year, even more so than usual.
So there it is...if you've made it this far I hope I haven't offended, hurt feelings or lost your support. I think I need it more than ever.