Getting Pregnant (Wk 7: PREGNANCY)

June 14, 2005

Squirt cheese-- heaven in a bottle! I know that pregnant women are supposed to avoid soft cheeses, but I don't think this qualifies. Whatever food snobbery I once had is gone, especially since second favorite cheese is now String. So much for gouda and provolone. In other news...

The Empire Strikes Back

Just when I think I've defeated my miscarriage fears, the battle resumes. I'm not paralyzed with anxiety, and I'm even sleeping somewhat well. It's just some little things that reveal my war with the Dark Side.

It hit me this week, for instance, how very little baby fantasizing I've done since becoming pregnant. For months, I've pictured myself holding my baby for the first time (after a non-medicated birth in which I don't tear the slightest bit), toting a booger-less baby around, tenderly breastfeeding in the dark of night... Now my thoughts seem centered on what I'm going to eat next.

I've not scoured secondhand baby stores nor visited my fake on-line baby registries. I've quit watching birthing shows on tv. Other than a slew of maternity clothes I ordered the week I found out I was pregnant, I haven't even wanted to window shop. And I haven't picked up a pregnancy book in almost two weeks!

I hardly recognize myself, and I wonder if my new coolness just a symptom of neurosis-- a fear of failure that has me pulling up the emotional guard.

A Minor Setback

All this time, I've been telling myself that I'd relax after my first prenatal visit, after Tom and I saw the heartbeat.

We planned our entire month around it. We scheduled my first doctor's appointment with care, since Tom works odd hours. We scheduled a trip home for a few days later, so we could break the news to our parents.

When my doctor's office called a few days ago to say my OB had had a death in his family, and we'd have to reschedule our appointment, I burst into tears. Our new appointment isn't until after our trip home, and it's doubtful that Tom will be able to make it. When he came home from work, he found me curled up in a fetal position, hardly able to speak for all my sobbing.

What upsets me the most? The thought of telling our parents the news without seeing a heartbeat! I feel intensely vulnerable, all but naked. What if we have to turn around next week and tell them it's all off? To think of making our parents so happy only to take it all away would only make a miscarriage that much harder!

I have to remind myself that that's what families are for: to share the highest highs and lowest lows. So this weekend, naked will I be. And I'll go to Monday's appointment not in layers of armor but with all the raw hope I've been trying to suppress.