I made too many damn promises BEFORE. As in, BEFORE I got pregnant. I made numerous promises that I am not sure I can keep.
The biggest promise that I made, not only to myself, but to anyone and everyone within earshot, was that if I ever finally got pregnant, I would never, ever, NOT EVEN ONCE, complain about it.
That was a big one for me, because when I would hear other women complaining about how big they were getting or how bad their morning sickness was, I would want to scream at them "DON'T YOU KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE? DON'T YOU KNOW I WOULD KILL TO HAVE YOUR SYMPTOMS?" So, I swore a solemn vow not to complain - until I went into labor - during my pregnancy.
So far, it hasn't been too difficult to keep this promise. For starters, I haven't really experienced what you would call nausea. Every once in a while, if I find myself hungry, I am a tad queasy - but that is the full extent of it. No puking, no dry-heaving; just a steady stream of belches and burps. I can totally live with this.
Except. This leaves me utterly paranoid. I said to my mother yesterday, that after EVERYTHING we've gone through to get to this point, don't even tell me I am going to be one of the "lucky ones" who doesn't get morning sickness! I just refuse to believe it. I figure it just hasn't really hit me yet, and that in a few weeks I will be stuck with my head in a toilet 24/7. Or...I assume it means that the pregnancy has ended and I just don't know it yet.
You see, here's the thing (and for the record, this doesn't count as "complaining"):
we spend all this time struggling and trying everything under the sun to get to this point - to achieve pregnancy - and I think we assume that once we achieve this we're going to be happier than ever before. That achieving pregnancy is the answer to our prayers. I know that is what I thought. And we are happy - there are many, many moments of utter joy, and happiness beyond comprehension. But what I didn't foresee was the constant terror - the relentless worrying - that accompanies pregnancy. Maybe it is at its worst in the first trimester, and I am certain that it is intensified for IVF patients, but all I know is the fear and the paranoia and the terror can be all-consuming. Like instead of being grateful that I don't have morning sickness, I am paranoid that it is a sign that "something" is wrong.
I accompanied Eileen and Kayleigh to a Baby Expo in Boston yesterday. I definitely feel like it is a little early for me to be going to something like this (seeing as a mere two months ago attending one of these would have been complete torture). But I went, because they only have it once a year and, after all, I AM pregnant (something I am still having a very hard time coming to terms with). I walked in and the sight of everything was so completely foreign and overwhelming that I actually felt dizzy. Eileen and my mom kept reminding me to sign up for this raffle and enter this contest for a give-away, etc., and I was basically in a daze. I felt like I just DIDN'T BELONG THERE. I felt like I feel most of the time these days - like a fraud. Like, who the hell am I to think that I can actually ponder real baby-stuff? Three straight years of constant disappointment can really fuck with your brain, apparently. The whole day I kept waiting for one of the vendors to grab me by the back of the neck and escort me out of there. "Who do you think you are? This is for PREGNANT women and NEW MOTHERS! GET OUT!"
After a while I actually calmed down, enough so that I even tried out travel systems. I decided on the stroller I will eventually register for, and I felt a huge sense of accomplishment. I made a decision on a baby-related thing. One giant leap for me!
And then...
Last night I woke up in the middle of the night and had to pee. I went to the bathroom, and even though I was bleary eyed, there was no denying what was on the toilet paper.
Blood.
I was instantly wide-awake. There was only one drop, one spec, and it was pinkish in color and not bright red, but nevertheless there was blood. And Blood equals Bad.
I ran to the bed sobbing, and began to experience some intense cramps all at once. I sobbed and sobbed to Anthony "Oh my God, oh my God, I am not ready for this to be over! What is wrong??? Why is there blood??"
An overreaction? Perhaps. But this is what my mind does to me these days. It is almost like I cannot allow myself to relax and enjoy this. I am too damn terrified of the "what if's." I fell asleep crying, and the last thoughts I remember thinking before falling asleep were "that's what you get, Dawn, for having the balls to attend a baby show."
When does the sadness end? That is what I want to know. Instead of doing happy cartwheels all day long, as I expected to be doing, I am full of fear every moment I am awake. And although the cramping stopped and I have peed a thousand times since last night with no further signs of blood, I am scared shitless. It may mean nothing. But it may mean SOMETHING, too. My ultrasound appointment this Wednesday cannot possibly get here fast enough, I will say it over and over again.
I guess the day that we decided, "Hey, wanna be parents?" was the day that we opened a can of worry that will last us the rest of our lives. First, the constant worrying about what was wrong with us and would we EVER get pregnant? Now, the constant worry about whether or not things are progressing normally, or whether I am going to lose this most important thing that has ever ever happened to me. And once a baby is born, I guess I will indeed spend the rest of my life worrying about its welfare. Deciding to have a baby is the decision to welcome worry into your life, 100 percent of the time. Who knew?
And another thing...I've been through so many of those horrible two-week waiting periods, either after sex or after a procedure, just waiting to get the results that say "pregnant" or "not." But this first trimester is basically a two-month waiting period. We got our positive results, at which point they declared me 4-weeks pregnant. Another eight-weeks before I enter the second trimester, when I am supposedly "out of the woods." The waiting is excruciating. The terror is excruciating. And frankly, it really really sucks.
(But I am NOT complaining!!!)
