You have probably noticed that i don’t like to sugarcoat things. i try to be straightforward and honest about the fact that life is not always a great big circus of kinky fun. And while things are fun, and we have a happy life, we have had our share of garbage thrown in our paths. We have 2 children, aged 7 and 10 months old. We waited a long time to have a second child for many reasons, the main one being that our eldest child developed a seizure disorder at age 2, and needed constant care and attention for several years. She has gone into remission from this disorder, and no longer needed medication as of 2 years ago this October, so after we got married, we decided to get pregnant pretty quickly. Our lovely baby was born, and honestly, things were so wonderful. She was conceived as planned, born exactly the date she was scheduled for (i had a c-section), and breastfed like a champion. Things went really well. She is a happy child, always smiling. She sleeps better than most babies i have heard about at this age. She is a wonderful baby. We talked about wanting another, because she was just so easy. She still is easy. And then in April, i got my period. Big whup, right? Joke was on me, cos it came on April 1st. But the next month, it didn’t come, and i had a suspicion. i took a test- negative. Decided to let it go. Then, on Mother’s Day, i just had this gut instinct to take a test. Positive. i was pregnant. This should not have rocked my world as much as it did- we were planning on trying in August. But for me, a type A planner, with a phone memo pad full of lists, this was a bit more than i could handle. The news shook me to my core. It just didn’t feel right- the timing was off, i was just getting to know our new baby, we had only been on one date since i had gotten pregnant with her, let alone keeping the romance alive during another pregnancy. Do not misunderstand- i loved the idea, but was overwhelmed with guilt, and the amount of work i had ahead of me. i called my doctor and scheduled an appointment. At the doctor’s office, they did another test. Negative. What? Huh? i don’t understand. So they did a second one. Still negative. i went home, took a home test, and it was still positive. So they scheduled blood work and an ultrasound. And there, on the screen, was a big static screen of nothing. Just a sac, they said, not a good sign. This rocked me yet again. i spent weeks acclimating to the idea, setting aside things we would need and making plans. What is even happening! My belly was growing, i certainly looked pregnant. What did they mean, they couldn’t see a baby?! We went on a trip we had been planning to visit family, and i had to paste a smile on, pretending i wasnt dying on the inside. The doctors asked me to come back as soon as i returned for a second ultrasound. And that was that. My hormone levels were rising, but the baby wasn’t there. In June, just 2 days after my birthday, i had surgery. It was over.
This whole thing spanned over 5 weeks. i would be coming up on 5 months pregnant right now, if things progressed as normal. Part of me feels relief. More time with our 10 month old, more energy for the 2 kids, less diapers and poop and barf and vitamins… more wine. You might think that’s a horrible thing to say. i feel guilty admitting those things. But i feel them.
What i haven’t really let myself feel was the pain. At first, i couldn’t look at pregnant women, or even my own baby. They did the surgery in the labor and delivery department of the hospital. i mean, it’s a sick, cruel thing. The idea that other mamas get to go, deliver their beautiful babies, and smile and coo at them, and i have to leave with an empty belly and empty arms. But that’s how they do it, and as sad as i feel, they took good care of me. They did a good job, if you can say that after experiencing a miscarriage. But we carried on. Went on vacation, hosted topic chats, blogged, connected with people. Cleaned the house, mowed the grass, got the groceries, went to work. Our dynamic has suffered. Our lives have taken a hit. Sometimes a commercial for baby things will come on TV and i will tear up, but mainly, from day to day, i try not to think about it.
Today we went shopping. Daddy needed a new suit, so we went to the mall. Next door to the shop we were in is a pet store, and i wanted to peek in. They have all sorts of puppies, and i love looking at them. It brings out my inner little, and makes me happy. Most of the puppies were sleeping, but this sad little rottweiler was staring at me through the glass over in the corner. i wandered over and started holding my hands up to the glass, talking to him, and then the shop clerk took him out. Too bad, i thought. But then she walked up to me and handed him over, and told me i could go play with him. And when i held him in my arms, the wall inside tumbled down. Because he curled into me the way a newborn would, nuzzling into my neck, and licking me on the ear. i realized how much hurt i still carry, and i wonder now when it gets better. This sweet puppy didn’t want me to leave him, he cried for me when i gave him back. Loudly, and pitifully, and i felt so guilty walking away. i wanted that baby. i wanted those soft moments in the hospital, when i peer out of bed into the cradle, in awe of what we created. It doesn’t matter that diapers are expensive, and breastfeeding 2 babies is hard, and i can’t drink wine or eat sushi. None of that matters, i would give it up in a heartbeat, if it meant i could have the alternative.
It does hurt. It affects our marriage, our D/s, our parenting, our faith. It affects our outlook on life. It changed the timeline in which we choose to have another baby, if we do at all. It made us sadder, older, wiser. It brought us closer, to be sure. But at such a high cost.
The pain crept in, with my hand wrapped around the bum of a puppy cradled to my chest, and filled me with sorrow today. Tomorrow is a new day. But i still wish…