Unexpected
I had some really sad days over the holidays. Jed and I both found ourselves slogging through constant reminders of the unfairness of our situation, as only “happy” occasions have the ability to bring up. I was supposed to have been 20 weeks pregnant on Christmas Day, and would have had the opportunity to find out the sex of my baby, as I was so viciously reminded by my sister-in-law’s announcement of their baby girl. My cousin’s wife got pregnant unexpectedly and he announced it to us on the day after Christmas. After forcing out a happy sound, all I could do was cry. There’s so much camaraderie in the shared experience of pregnancy, and suddenly not being in that club just feels so wrong, painful, unfair. When I should have been there. As much as we try to be thankful for what we do have, the deprivation, the dashed hopes, just felt so intense.
So when we left for a vacation on January 2, I didn’t go into it with many expectations for how it might help my healing process. I was just happy to be getting away after the emotionally exhausting holidays. We went to Mexico, with a plan to spend the majority of our time relaxing by the pool and on the beach. On day 1, I sat by the pool and felt a strange sensation in my head—like suddenly I had escaped and my brain was starting to process all the broken pieces. I realized I hadn’t been away from the grind of my daily life since everything happened, and I almost had a moment of panic—like, can I do this? Can I relax without going crazy? Will the sadness let me?
(Illustration of my point: Though we certainly weren’t TRYING to get pregnant in December, we weren’t preventing it either. So we decided that it would be a good idea to take an early pregnancy test on New Year’s Eve, just so we would know—for that night and for our upcoming vacation. Well, as I capped the test my hands were shaking and I set it down upside down because I didn’t want to see if it turned positive right away. In those three minutes we both realized how nervous we were that it was going to be positive. It wasn’t, and we were relieved. I checked in with myself all day, a little surprised that I wasn’t just a little disappointed, but there was no disappointment there. We obviously weren’t ready.)
That moment of almost-panic passed, and I just went with it. Later in the week, after several long days of leisure, an 85-minute massage, and even after recovering from a nasty but thankfully-short-lived stomach bug, I realized I felt like myself. In a new way. Jed commented that he was seeing a version of me that he hadn’t seen in a long time. That he felt like I had just “been there” for a while now, and as much as he tried, he knew there wasn’t much he could do to draw me back out until I was ready. I guess I was finally ready. I started to actually FEEL grateful for what we have right now, rather than just reminding myself that I SHOULD.
That feeling has stuck with me. I still think of my baby every day. I don’t know if that will ever change. But I feel lighter. Happiness is much closer to the surface, edging out the pervasive sadness. And we’re ready to try again. I know that no matter what happens, I can survive.
