So today was supposed to be the Apocalypse. Armageddon. The end of the world.
I for one was not surprised when I woke up this morning to learn that I was still here, because after finding out on Wednesday that I had miscarried, I was sure that if I could survive that, I could survive anything.
That's right, readers. Surprise Momma had a very planned pregnancy that ended entirely to soon.
I have to say, I'm pretty shocked at how I feel about it. I wasn't very far along, not even all of our families knew, and none of our friends did. But in the couple of weeks between seeing a positive sign and hearing the words, "I'm sorry but you are no longer pregnant", I really fell in love with that little bun.
I've said this before, but when you want a baby, and sometimes you don't realize that you wanted the baby until you do see the positive sign, as soon as you find out you are having one, it's your child. It's not cells, a blastocyst, zygote, fetus. It's your baby, and you love it. And a little part of me feels like I lost a baby.
I never felt them move, I never got to see them on an ultrasound. I'll never know if it was a boy or girl. But I felt the nausea, the sleepiness, the aversion to smells. I felt the excitement and the warmth and the love for them. I told Avery she was going to be a big sister every day that I knew I was pregnant. Sure, she didn't get it, but I couldn't wait for the day when I could see my two children together. I'm sad for what would have been.
I know we'll have another baby eventually. We'll try again in a little while when we both feel up to it and get settled into our house. We have lots of time, but in the back of my mind I keep thinking, "but I wanted this baby."
I wonder how I'll feel in August, knowing I should be days away from giving birth. I wonder how I'll feel when we have friends over and I can have a glass of wine with supper, knowing that I wasn't supposed to be able to. I wonder how I'll feel every Friday, knowing I should be ten weeks, eleven weeks, twelve weeks pregnant as of that day.
It's really harder than I expected, before I had a miscarriage I passed them off thinking, "How can you be so sad when you were only X number of weeks along?" But it's hard. And I'm sad. And I miss that baby.
It's a very lonely, empty feeling to be pregnant one day, and not the next, and have nothing to show for it, for lack of a better term. I can't imagine being farther along.
Even though I wish I couldn't, I raise a glass to all the moms who never got to hold their babies, no matter how far along they were when they were lost. They're your baby from the very beginning and it's heartbreaking to say goodbye. I can't say I'm glad to be on your team, but I am glad to have a very funny husband, a new house that's full of boxes, and a giggly seventeen month old running around with her puppy to keep me busy.
Maybe it will be a merry Christmas after all...