**I wrote this blog post on May 31st, hoping that I would eventually feel comfortable sharing my thoughts and publishing here. Today is the day. 😉
“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness”
I am terrified of saying this phrase aloud or seeing it written in black and white, for fear that doing so would somehow tempt fate.
Meaning, if I wrote this down, the universe could say, ‘Wow, she sure is overconfident. I think we need to remind her that this is entirely out of her control. Let’s show her who is boss.’
And then tomorrow, of no fault of my own, I start bleeding and cramping. Which is then inevitably followed by grieving and shamefully blaming myself for being unable to stay pregnant. The one thing it seems every other female I know does effortlessly.
The truth is, not all women I know stay pregnant effortlessly and without fear or anxiety. I know this intellectually, but when my hormones are high, and life feels so incredibly out of my control, I feel really alone. I also feel incompetent and almost ‘less of a woman’ because of my struggles and failures.
I am pregnant.
If I don’t say it, then maybe I can keep it a secret for a while. I can live in the space between acceptance and disbelief. This is the space where I don’t have to commit to a stance, it’s the grey area, the unknown. In this space it feels that it is possible to suspend time, to breathe, to allow hope and to allow faith to enter. Then I can make room to allow the little embryo to figure it out for themselves. I can press ‘pause’ on my fear of having tragedy strike again, which feels like being the object of life’s cruel joke.
In this space I don’t have to explain to anyone how that little faint line on the pregnancy test means looming disappointment more often than not. If I keep my pregnancy a secret and I miscarry, then I don’t have to apologize for making anyone feel uncomfortable for showing my grief.
Ironically this situation can often feel lose-lose—If I acknowledge it and something bad happens, I have to deal with having to explain grief in a palatable way to the public. On the other hand, not openly showing excitement somehow feels like I am abandoning my own child by withholding love. This dynamic can become an emotional prison.
So I’m just going to wait a little longer. I am going to live here for a bit– spending my evenings silently cheering on the cluster of cells that made it to day 35 and going to bed early so my body can rest. I will be sneaking moments of quiet to myself so I can feel the love for this little person rather than sitting in fear of the worst case (and unfortunately common) scenario. I will allow myself to move through my fear rather than allowing it to encompass me and know that it is ok to shed a few tears for this little embryo, fighting in its own way for survival.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
For the record, I choose love.
UPDATE—We are at almost 16 weeks. Woohoo! Things are going well and hope and faith are high..:)
Beautiful & articulate reflection Annie! Fear is always caustic as we are currently witnessing on the national political scene. The best antidote to fear is a faith interpenetrated with loving hope. And, love always wins…although not always on the trajectory one wants. Keep the faith & continue developing little embryo!
Thank you dad for the insight! It is definitely easy to be overcome with fear, but so good to recognize that faith and hope can easily trump our this fear, if we allow it. 🙂
Annie – I am so filled with joy for you!! I REALLY hate to admit this, but I watched over you for the very first time when you were about 2 weeks old (you will always tell people that I was 4 at the time!) My joy danced for you, seeing you welcome your rainbow baby JP, and my heart is singing for you, James, big bro JP and this little person you will welcome into your family.
I am hugging you through this post, celebrating with you and lifting you up with a HUGE
Thank you Bev! I am feeling the virtual hugs for our entire family, and am so thankful I have you in the background cheering us on! 🙂
This blog is dope af. Vulnerability is strength. Love what you’re doing here cousin!
You are dope..and the best for telling me as much. Love you. You are right. It is a challenging lesson to learn, but vulnerability IS strength. 🙂
How lucky your children are to have an intelligent, caring, thoughtful momma! Congratulations to you and your growing family!
Thank you Sandeep! And thank you so much for reading and commenting! Miss you friend! 🙂
Yes yes yes. All the feels. All the love.
Can’t wait to meet that sweet babe! This makes my heart so full! 💗
Love you sweet cousin. Thank you for the support, now and always! 😉
Pure happiness and awesome-sauce-ness for you and your sweet family. So much love and giant hugs! Miss you, Tav
Awww, thank you lady! I sure have missed seeing you. 🙂 I hope you are doing JUST as awesome! Hugs to you!!