Terrified, Part 2

Tuesday May 28, 2013

Hello Shelby and Dalton,

Today seems terribly long, for tomorrow is the day we find out if our latest attempts at IVF were successful, resulting in me being pregnant again.  I am trying to practice patience, something at which I'm horrible, and something I feel you understand, as you were so very impatient with your Week 24 arrival....  Of course, as Daddy is fond of saying, we have forever lost our blissful ignorance, so even if we get a positive report, we are far removed from any giant celebrations, as there will be such a long road ahead.  We know so many things could go wrong, obviously.  I will try not to dwell on those things right now, because I am trying to do like your Daddy says and be positive.  Unfortunately, I am a natural pessimist and my mind always wanders to the worst scenarios.  This trait was made even more prominent because during your far too short lives with us, each time we heard something positive, within 24 hours, our worlds ended.

Terrified is again the theme of the day.  I'm terrified that I will start bleeding, I'm terrified that the headache and the cramps I've been feeling today are indicative of the start of my period.  I'm terrified with each cough that I am tearing something asunder within my uterus.  I'm terrified that we are not pregnant.  I'm terrified that we are pregnant, again with multiples, which increases our risks of pre-term labor even further.

It's so different from when we first underwent IVF.  Back then, we fell in to the blissfully ignorant category.  I vowed that I would never be one of those women who obsessed over getting pregnant, who charted body temperatures, overanalyzed every minute measurement and freaked out if not pregnant.  Oh, no, I was above all of that nonsense.  To paraphrase one of my childhood idols,  Suzanne Sugarbaker "If I ever did decide to have children, I would do it with a minimum of fuss and muss." - yes indeed, that was MY attitude.  Well, the general concept of IVF ensures that conception will not be achieved with a minimum of fuss and muss.  But, even in the waiting period prior to finding out we were pregnant with you, I was rather cavalier, thinking "Well, either this works or it doesn't."  I had it in my head that we would give it one shot, and que sera sera.....  Then, IT WORKED!  I was shocked, as I'd heard many horror stories of women or couples having to try IVF 5, 6, 7 times or more to achieve a successful pregnancy.  With us, one attempt and bam, we were pregnant.  Then, we found out we were pregnant with twins, even better!  I would break the long line of only children, but only have 1 pregnancy.  I figured I wouldn't be one of those cute pregnant women who looks adorable in maternity clothes and grows the cutest little basketball bump.  But, I feel like I kind of carried on the que sera sera attitude, like "OK, I'm pregnant, I'm going to be a mother, OK then, let's embrace this."  And, for 22 weeks and 4 days, I think I did.  I didn't complain when I experienced almost daily bouts of nausea well into the 15 week territory.  I didn't suffer blood pressure issues, my ankles remained relatively unswollen.

But, now we are part of the terrible club that is all too familiar with pre-term labor, children dying in cord accidents, children dying of SIDS, children dying, dying, dying.  And, we also know IVF can fail, as we experienced at the end of January, when we tried IVF the 2nd time.  So, I sit here on the eve of the blood test that will reveal if our 3rd attempt was successful, and I am terrified.

I am also very very angry.  The anger comes from watching women who get to be mothers to living children and don't appreciate what a precious gift they have.  We went to the baseball game yesterday.  While walking to our seats, I observed this overweight blond in a black knit dress, allowing her toddler (probably about your age) wander about the concourse.  It has always been a pet peeve to observe parents allowing toddlers to run loose in crowded public spaces, sporting events, malls, airports.  Not only is there the risk of kidnapping, but there is the more likely risk that a large man will not see the toddler and trip over the toddler, causing both to fall.  Guess what you DA mother, if a 200 lb man falls on your 20 lb toddler, there is going to be serious collateral damage to said child.  It's like a motorcycle colliding with an F-350.... the guy on the motorcycle is not walking away uninjured.  So, finally, Tubbo Blondie, hikes the little girl (who sadly also was already obese) up under her arm like a football, and the child was just dangling there, getting bounced and jostled.  I carry groceries more carefully.  When we were seated, this couple came in and sat in front of us with a blond boy toddler, (again, probably about your age0.  The mom was pregnant again, probably about 7 or 8 months along (far larger than I ever got with you).  We proceeded to watch her ingest a corn dog (on the value menu, guaranteed to be all "lips and assholes" as your Daddy says), several pieces of taffy, a large soda and popcorn.  Yet, here I am, not even sure if I'm pregnant, but avoiding even an all beef hot-dog and eschewing soda for water, and trying to be dedicated to eating healthful, organic, non-GMO foods (even my prenatal vitamins are organic and non-GMO for God's sake!!).  But, my body could not sustain a healthy pregnancy.  A perfect example of life's cruel irony.

My darlings, thank you for listening to your momma's rants, nervous ramblings, fears and idiosyncrasies.  Please ask God for good news for us tomorrow.  We are missing you today and always.

All my love,
Momma