Resentment and Relief.

Written June 10, 2013.

This is hard to admit, but I'm promising myself I'll be honest in these posts that share our emotional journey as we start this third pregnancy. So here's today's dose of honesty: I resent being pregnant again.

Let me be clear: I don't resent the baby growing in my belly. I don't resent the expenses and pain it took to get us here. I don't resent my amazing husband or the handful of friends we've asked to support us in these early days. But I resent actually being pregnant again and not knowing what will happen tomorrow or next week or next month, yet assuming the outcome will be the same as it's been before. I resent the loss of innocent joy and naive hope. I resent the fact that Jeff and I seem unable to attach to this pregnancy at all, in spite of our solid first beta and "beautiful doubling" number today (my nurse's words, not mine).

I want so badly to fall in love with the little life inside of me, to give it a cute nickname, to plan the adorable way we'll tell our families in August. I wish I could blithely peruse baby websites and daydream about nursery themes. Instead, though, I find myself googling statistics on successful pregnancies after multiple unexplained losses and nervously asking my doctor if I can start taking baby aspirin, just so I can feel like I'm doing something different this time around. I can't get past wondering if I'll have to endure another D&C before we go to London in July or simply waiting for the other shoe to drop--and the potential shoes are infinite, with all the knowledge I've gained in this journey.

Someone told me the other day that they simply couldn't fathom what Jeff and I have been through, enduring the "double hells" of infertility and repeat pregnancy loss. We try not to think of it that way, and Jeff is always good at revising my vision so the glass appears half full. This is simply the road we have to walk today, and there's no point in dwelling on why it's the one we were put on.

There is a tiny glimmer of... something, though. The relief today of knowing that my betas are doubling as they should be, the kindness of my nurse who patiently listened to my terror and readily agreed that starting a baby aspirin regimen would be good for my mind (even if it's not necessary for my body), the loyalty of M, who came over for several hours this evening just to distract me by watching The Carrie Diaries.

I wish I knew what the next post title will be, but I have no magic ball. Instead, I'll have to be content with finding the glass a little more full tonight than it was this morning.