I have been officially pregnant for 6 days. By “officially” I mean self diagnosed according to embarrassing amounts of home pregnancy tests. My beta is two days away; my clinic has no record of a pregnancy.
Still, at 10dpt my head was drooping into my coffee, and I took a three hour nap because I couldn’t keep my eyes open. And the infertile part of me is wondering if it was all in my head. Was I just tired because I didn’t sleep well coming home last week from Texas?
Yesterday, Easter morning, I woke up and felt uneasy. I judged my pee stick harshly (Is it just me, or does it seem fainter than the day before?) and I wasn’t having any symptoms. We met my family at church for the Easter breakfast before the service. It wasn’t until I took one bite of the french toast and felt my stomach turn that I was able to be happy again. SYMPTOMS! My GAWD how I’ve missed you, Nausea!
I think after the beta, I will feel like it’s more real. I will have a tangible number about this pregnancy. After that, when I see the ultrasound, and see that in fact there is something growing in me that is zapping my energy and making me detest all my favorite foods and it is not, in fact, all in my head, or say, a tapeworm.
But sitting with my family while they relay their own pregnancy stories, or ask me if I will find out the sex, or talk about the future with “Risa and Chris’s twins” was causing enough anxiety to become almost panic-inducing.
Six years. For six years I have been the girl back in the shadows. The one who stands aside as the others crowd around the newly pregnant girl, offering congratulations and talk of what made them sick in their own pregnancies. I’ve been the girl quietly sitting in the back at baby showers, periodically making trips to the bathroom to cry. I’ve been the one put in her place as she is lectured that until she is a mother herself, she will never understand. For six years, I have been on the sidelines.
And now I am in the spotlight. I am the pregnant daughter, the pregnant niece, the pregnant sister, the pregnant granddaughter. And everyone has been waiting for this for so goddamn long and they are happy for me.
And I panic. And I want to go back to the shadows and hide behind the infertility. Ask me about fertility meds. Ask me how my butt is feeling after PIO shots. Ask me about fertilization reports and I will answer all you want me to, with the confidence of someone who is a vetran infertile.
Put me around a table with all of my family staring at me as I try to eat the food that makes me gag, their faces glowing because ZOMG! RISA’S PREGNANT AND SHE FEELS NAUSEOUS! LET US SHARE WHAT WE DID WHEN WE WERE NAUSEOUS!….
and I’m completely out of my comfort zone. I’m a fraud. I’m a lier. I’m not a normal pregnant person, because you guys, I’ve been pregnant in the past for like 30 seconds at a time, and next week, next month, I could lose these babies. And the girls I am compared to, as in “Oh you know how so and so is pregnant too? Well she has been feeling really bad and her doctor said to do this and you should too!”, those girls will continue to be pregnant and I won’t.
I’m not trying to contradict what I said in my last post. I am still enjoying this pregnancy. I will be happy for this pregnancy as long as I have it. But I also feel like I can’t deal with the future. I can’t deal with family gatherings where everyone is excited for me and treating me like… well like I am some pregnant girl. And I am a total asshole for saying that because my family has waited years to be able to have this. But right now, I’m not the pregnant girl. I am the infertile who is very newly, cautiously pregnant. And this fear, I hope it gets easier. I hope I can let it go as time goes on and embrace this for what it is. But right now, I’m overwhelmed. And I am trying desperately to go back to my mantra of: one day at a time.
This is the only thing keeping me sane. Like these little sticks are proof that they are still in there. The darkening lines are those babies growing!
At 11dpt, the lines on the FRER are almost plateauing, so it’s getting less impressive to show off. They aren’t looking much different. But those babies are still there.