Mostly, I don’t question what’s going on with my pregnancy – I don’t sit waiting for the next appointment with a doppler or ultrasound machine to find out if I’m still pregnant. I don’t need independent confirmation right now because I’m fairly certain that I wouldn’t still be throwing up in the event of a sudden fetal demise. So, mostly, I just don’t question my status as a pregnant woman. But you can’t totally take the infertile out of a veteran like me, so I admit that I am sometimes skeptical of the long term prospects of remaining in this state.
I don’t have any good reason for questioning it, but it seems to take a certain amount of hubris to assume that there will definitely be a baby at the end of all this sickness. I would have thought that getting into the 2nd trimester would have left me feeling better about the future. I’m well past the point of my miscarriage three years ago. I’m well into the 2nd trimester. And yet? Occasionally, something reminds me that it’s an awfully big assumption to make that all will be well. In some ways, I’m grateful for the constant, if miserable, reminders that I’m very definitely pregnant right now.
So what number will I have to hit to believe this is all going to be okay? I don’t know. I think I was about 31 weeks before I believed that with the triplets. But those are triplets. It was natural to worry.
For some reason, I can’t get out of my head that a pregnancy loss before 20 weeks is a "miscarriage" and after 20 weeks is a "stillbirth". For some unknown reason, I rarely consider the possibility of stillbirth, despite the fact that I know several women who have had stillbirths. For some unknown reason, it’s the risk of "miscarriage" specifically that crops up in the recesses of my mind occasionally.
I think there’s a societal feeling, at least around here, that miscarriages happen. That a baby lost through miscarriage never really had a chance in the first place, so that life is, somehow, less relevant. The trauma and tragedy isn’t as concrete as a stillbirth. A stillbirth is a real BABY that died in people’s minds, but a miscarriage was the loss of something… less. I know that we in the infertile blogosphere understand that this isn’t true, but in the general society? I think that the dividing line remains, at least in the collective subconscience. For whatever reason, I’m not worried that I’ll have a stillbirth – I don’t think of it as a real possibility. But there’s also something about knowing that NO ONE would deny me my right and need to grieve that loss, whereas an earlier loss… well, you’re just expected to get right over that.
I know I’m talking in circles, mostly because I’m trying to get these thoughts out of my head and onto the virtual "paper" in front of me.
However screwed up my "logic" (or lack thereof) is, I feel like when I hit 20 weeks, I’ll just… feel more secure. But, for the most part, like I said, it’s not that I sit around thinking about the fragility of this pregnancy. For the most part, I assume I’ll have a family of 7 (!!) next year. I’d just like that little voice that occasionally pops up and says, "you know it’s not too late to have a miscarriage!" to go away.
This episode of self-pity and self-indulgence is brought to you by the letters H and G and the number 5.
ChezPerky 
I had all of those same strange thoughts surrounding miscarriage and stillbirth, and as such was very relieved to be past the 20w mark. But I still did (and do) believe I could have a stillbirth; I still can’t bring myself to flat out say when this baby comes, because I just can’t believe it. And yet, there was some safety in knowing that, if I should lose the baby now, the outside world would understand and give the space for grief, as opposed to my 11w loss, where the world was full of, “but it was still early!” and “at least you know you can get pregnant!” and “it’s not like it’s a real baby yet.”
Sorry for the rambling. Just wanted to say you’re not alone with your own.
I love your rambling… =) Seriously, you are such a wonderful writer and I can relate to every word you wrote here. Thank you for being able to put in words what I can only think about in my head.
Everything you wrote makes sense. It’s horrible that society categorizes some losses as lesser than others and judges certain types of grief as inapproriate. Others should not make assumptions about different types of losses, but rather should see how one is grieving to understand what the loss means to that individual, should be compassionate instead of lecturing and expecting that one will be affected or not according to some stupid societal standard.
Hope the appointment with the perinatologist was fruitful and that you’ll tell us about it soon.
How appropriate that this is what you post today. I am struggling with being able to wrap my mind around the word ‘pregnant’ right now. Three betas tell me I am…but three years of disappointment have lead me to the feeling that I won’t be able to breathe or enjoy this pregnancy due to the looming panic and fear. I’ve seen and heard too many women enjoy the moment…and then be destroyed by tragedy.
Sigh.
I wonder at what point I’ll be able to pull out the books that were given to us so long ago about ‘expecting’? Or when the cramp and twinges don’t make me want to fall into bed in the fetal position as if to protect what we have worked so hard for? My husband tells me that I’ll probably never get to the point I’ll be able to pull the book out. I think that I’ll have the panic until the kid is 32.
Enough about my anxiety. I’m happy to hear all is well. You have been in my thoughts for the last week. Sorry to hear of the itching…I’ve somehow ended up with rash that appeared about three days ago. I don’t know if it is a side effect of the meds for the OHSS or what…but the rash is in a bad spot and makes me cranky…so I can definately feel your pain on that one. I’m hoping for some relief with the benedryl spray that hubby is to pick up tonight! Maybe something of that nature?
*hugs*
I think you are so right about how society views miscarriage vs. still birth. It’s sad too since people all grieve differently and when miscarriage is viewed as something that’s not a big deal many people don’t get the support they need after a miscarriage.
I know exactly what you mean. The m/c of Jester was easier to deal with in many ways, because he was more “real”. We could tell people he was a boy, for eg. The others were just… nothing, really, to many people.
I am out of date with my commenting again. I hope this one finds you well and feeling more popular.
Bea