A few days ago, I wrote that I had my A to Z alphabet challenge all planned out, and I was only going to write about this topic twice, one for Depression and one for Loss. Yet, here is a Writing 101 challenge to write about loss. So “L” is back up for grabs… I am probably going to divide my blog into a couple pages/topics and have this major issue in my life be just one of my focus topics.
Lost, Part One: Delusion
I should have known. I’m kind of an unlucky person, and I was a “mitten” long before I ever dreamed of referring to it that way. An outsider, but not truly. Only slightly different, not a quirky, offbeat, or outwardly strange kind of different. I should have known, should have looked deeper into some family history. I should have known, I matured at such an early age, had so many horrible, painful episodes of endometriosis. I even had laparoscopic surgery in my early twenties. Some doctors even told me it was going to be very difficult to get pregnant in a natural way. I should have known.
At that point in my life, I was much like everyone else, completely naïve and blithely ignorant, just assuming that there will be time and of course I’ll be able to have kids if I decide to do so. ‘Decide’- hah! ‘Of course’- double hah! I should have known.
I also had yet to fall completely in love with someone as to picture myself a mother at that point. Some girls grow up dreaming of weddings, and marriage, and motherhood. Sure, I guessed it would probably happen, but it was more of a “Sure, I know if I keep straining my eyes to read in the low light, I’ll probably need glasses” kind of eventuality. My family is full of wonderful role models of marriage and happy households full of children and love. My sister, friends and cousins kind of dreamt of their own future and saw a wedding at a young age, followed by as many kids as they wanted. Me, not so much. I spent a long bit of my adulthood passing from relationship to relationship,not completely committing, looking for built-in loopholes and obstacles because I was never struck by a beacon of knowledge that any such man was to be my husband/father of my children. All that changed when I met John. Still, I should have known.
My periods have been regular only in their irregularity my whole life. I could go a month or two with nothing, then the next cycle could be shorter or longer, or more painful, or less painful than usual. It’s just a complete crapshoot. When I was late, a little over a year into our relationship, I didn’t even realize. When he brought up the possibility that we were pregnant, I knew there was no way this could happen by mistake. No, we weren’t NOT trying, but we certainly weren’t trying either. I was told this wasn’t going to occur for me without a whole lot of assisted trying, if at all. I should have known.
After taking a test and confirming at the doctor, we went for an ultrasound confirmation. The dates did not line up from the time of my last cycle to the baby’s growth. The doctor adjusted the due date many times over the next few months, I visited the office every week for new ultrasounds due to the spotting issues that everyone tried to tell me were normal. I should have known.
At around 10 weeks, the concern of possible fetal development issues was growing. I was told I would need to schedule an amniocentesis for the 14th week. That landed in the beginning of January. The concern was never my ability to hold onto this baby, I think that every time we heard a heartbeat and saw a good ultrasound after panicking about spotting ended up spoiling us all. I should have known.
I focused all my fears on the possibility of this child being born with any number of health concerns, and of course, I dreaded this January 9th appointment with the gigantic needle. Like any expectant first-time mother, I panicked over the whole delivery situation coming up in July, and what would be in the future. What would our beautiful baby be like? I never feared that this child would not be born at all. I should have known.
I thought my trouble was getting pregnant, not staying pregnant. I should have known. For a long time after I lost the baby, I wondered just how long I was pregnant before I got the confirmation. Was it a week? A month? I wanted that extra time of happiness, knowing this baby was inside me.
I should have known…