20 Weeks

Well, folks, we are halfway there. We have made it through 50% of this pregnancy. This was the time during the last pregnancy where it started to feel real; where I started realizing there were only 4.5 months left in the journey. But of course, that time, there were actually only two more weeks left in the journey...

I mentioned to my doctor at one of my past appointments that I had been feeling so depressed the weekend before that I couldn't even get out of bed. I asked if he thought it was just because we were getting closer to the doomed gestational age. He said yes, and that once we passed 20 weeks, we'd begin to feel better. Our last appointment showed that everything that came back abnormal on this round of tests during the last pregnancy, came back just fine on this one. He said, "I really think that's what the problem was last time. You guys can start to breathe a little now." He was wrong.

I am not breathing easier. I am terrified. Completely and legitimately terrified. And not just about losing the baby. I'm scared for my life. There was no warning last time. Nothing to clue me in that something was wrong with me. I could tell something was wrong with the baby - she wasn't moving. But, I, myself, felt totally fine. And then, I suddenly didn't, and it was a cascade of events from there. So, while I am hyper aware this time of every symptom, every cramp, every headache, and every little flutter from within, I'm still 100% terrified. I don't think there will be any getting around that. The wait between each appointment will continue to be agony until I get confirmation that everything is (still) fine. I have my little blood pressure monitor that I check every time I get a little nervous, but it doesn't help much. I'm not a doctor. It's a store-bought monitor, handed down to me by my mom. It could be inaccurate. Let's hope it's not, because so far, it's been pretty perfect.

Now that the baby is moving, it does feel more real. But, I also thought it would calm me down a bit once this point was reached. This time, I was wrong. Yes, there are times when those little kicks and flutters make me feel better and reassure me that everything is going as it should. But, then there are those times in between. Those times when I wonder if the baby's kicking enough. Is s/he kicking too much (because remember, our girl kicked A LOT the day before she passed. Something I now know is a sign of distress)? I will never fully enjoy this pregnancy. We have twenty more weeks of anxiety and stress and fear.

On top of all of that, I don't feel like we're mentally in the same place we were last time either, and that kills me. Yes, I was scared last time. Especially those first few days. But, I'd wanted this all my life. And it was finally happening for me. I was scared but excited to finally begin my journey to motherhood. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd be a good mother, a capable mother, a stable mother. And now. Now I don't know how I'll do it. I'm seeing a therapist and I like her a lot, but we haven't talked much about the pregnancy yet. There's too much other stuff going on. My job is in jeopardy. I haven't spoken to my father in months. We have a house now and a slew of financial responsibility that comes with that (plus the medical bills that WON'T STOP COMING). And on top of that, I was not healed enough before I got pregnant again. Because I believed another pregnancy would heal me. How stupid of me.

I see so many women posting things saying that their child saved their life, and I love that. That's wonderful. I'm happy for those women. But, I never wanted to be one. I don't want my baby to have to save me. I want to be emotionally well enough that I can provide what that baby needs, from all aspects. It's not the baby's job to fix whatever is broken in me. But, maybe I need to accept now that something will always be broken in me from now on. There's no amount of talking or writing or medication or crying that can make this better. This part of our story will always be the same, and it will always hurt. And yes, perhaps this new baby will fill some part of my shattered little heart, but I still want to feel emotionally capable of being a mother. Some days, I feel legitimately crazy; like I'm losing my mind, and that the smallest thing will push me over the edge. And it's a weird feeling for me, because I've always prided myself on my strength and my endurance, and my ability to "get shit done." And I'm just not that person anymore. Now that I need to be more than ever, I'm not.

Honestly, it's hard to tell how much of this is normal pregnancy hormones and how much of this is because of last year's trauma. I don't know. I've never had a "normal" pregnancy. And I never will. So, I blame it on the loss, and I blame it on the guilt, and I blame it on the heartbreak, but maybe I actually am normal after all. All I know at this point is that I still have a lot of healing to do, and a shit load of things to get together in the next four months, and I 100% lack the motivation to do it. But, as always, we'll get there. And we'll be fine. So, I tell myself.

Cheesing with my 20-week belly for the camera.
Somehow, I think I'm still hiding it at work?
Only one person has called me out so far, but they could all just be
afraid to ask. What do you think?