Flashbacks

Hey Humble Readers...

I fully intended a different post for today, but something has pre-empted it. 

I had a horrible nightmare last night.  This morning actually, as I was woken from it by my alarm.  I will say, when I told my Beloved about it, his initial response was to chuckle a bit. 

You see, in the nightmare I was pregnant. 

In the dream, I had just found out I was pregnant, and I was distraught.  Beyond all the practical concerns (like the fact that the hobbit-hole is just too small and we're stuck here for the next couple of years, and that we have been systematically getting rid of all our baby stuff as Pip has outgrown it), I was terrified because I wasn't sure I could face another pregnancy and delivery.  In the dream, I was racing to the doctor's office (which oddly was in the mall), praying that I wasn't really pregnant, and then at the same time battling guilt over not wanting another baby, and fearing that my not wanting the pregnancy would cause me to miscarry. 

I know that there are many women who deal with so much more than I had to during pregnancy.  But with the constant fear that dogged me, particularly during my pregnancy with Pip (inconclusive test results, fear of miscarriage, etc) and my health concerns (gestational diabetes, blood pressure issues, placenta previa), I am 100% happy with the assurance that I won't ever be pregnant again.  Not to mention, the fact that I never ever want to experience a delivery like the one I had with Pip... the C-section from hell with little to no anesthetic. 

I tried to shake off the fear and the anxiety that the dream elicited, but it took until my third lap of the neighbourhood on my walk before I felt the tightness in my throat ease and my anxiety start to let up.  At one point, when I was passing the hospital (on the far end of my lap of the neighbourhood) I actually almost started to cry, just because I couldn't imagine having to make myself go back in there to have a baby.

I have a pretty good idea where the dream came from (not that it's been my first pregnancy dream since Pip was born).  Call it the perfect storm of baby-ness. 

When I transferred all of my clothes from my old dresser to the new last week, I came across a couple of old hpts.  I thought I had gotten rid of all of them, but there at the back of my bottom drawer was a Ziploc bag with a couple from my pregnancy with Ginny.  It was just a little jarring, because they triggered so many memories of how I felt when I first got the positives with my wee sweet girl, as well as how hard it was for me to throw away the positive tests I got from Emily and Olivia (our lost ones... those tests had been the only tangible link I had to the reality of their existence). 

Also, two years ago tomorrow, we found out that Pip was on the way.  We were thrilled, even though I was intensely anxious about how to handle a pregnancy and a 16 month old.  I had no idea how that anxiety would increase over the coming months.  My current cycle has followed that particular cycle almost exactly (was ovulating on my Beloved's birthday, just like I was two years ago), and the coincidence has been niggling at the back of my mind the last few days. 

And lastly, tomorrow is also noteworthy because five years ago I was 11 weeks pregnant, and I woke up spotting.  It was supposed to be my first day back at work after a week off.  Instead, it was the day that I stopped trusting my body.  Our Emily Hope would be four now. 

I think all of these things, piled up together, contributed to the dream.  But no matter what, it was a scary dream that I want to fade into oblivion. 

AF is due by the end of the week, if not before, and honestly I've never been so ready for her to get here.  The legacy of IF is a bitch...

Life On The Other Side: Healing, Grief, & Friendship

Howdy Humble Readers...

***Warning... for those of my humble readers who read my blog to keep up with Beloved, Ginny and me in our day to day life, and who don't want to know about certain, ahem, parts of my life, you might want to skip this post.  Just so ya know...***

I've been thinking about this post a lot over the last few weeks.  Yes, this the the 'I'm-a-mom-now-am-I-still-an-IFer/RPLer?" post. 

And I have known the answer for quite some time.  It's a resounding 'YES'. 

I have been blessed with a beautiful baby girl, and while her presence has gone a long way to heal certain hurts in my heart, there are places that I could never expect her to fill. 

The baggage is still here, just a little bit lighter. 

IF/RPL will always be a part of who I am.  It's with me every time I wake up from one of those ridiculous nightmares, or when I stand over Ginevra's cradle watching her chest rise and fall.  It's a part of why I'm dealing with anxiety in relation to our sex life... the idea that we could get pregnant again right away is not totally undesirable, but it is still shit-scary nonetheless.  (It's the whole not knowing if/when I'll be ovulating and all that's stressing me out, among other things)

Thoughts of my identity as a mother and an IFer have been brought to the forefront even more so recently, as I have had a good friend go through the agony of a miscarriage (her second loss).  Understanding the pain, physical and emotional, that she is dealing with is one thing, but knowing how to provide support for her from this side of the delivery room is another.  How do I have the right to voice my care for her and my understanding, when I have just given birth?  (And how self-centered is that?  Worrying about me, when she's the one dealing with a loss... ugh! Sometimes I disgust myself.)  My heart broke for her when I got her email after the ultrasound that showed an empty sac, and I remember how I felt about people with babies when I was going through it, and I didn't want to push in. 

When we lost our angel babies, I was angry with people in my life who avoided me or the subject of our losses.  But knowing what to say is a hard thing... harder than I expected.

*sigh*  Nothing in this life is ever easy, tho, is it?

On a slightly different note, next week marks the second anniversary of our loss of Olivia Noelle.  I miss her.  I miss who she might have been.  But it doesn't hurt quite as much as it did.  It's amazing how so much grief and love can exist in a heart at the same time.