It's really beginning to seem like the universe is out to get me. I just turned 30 on June 2 was very briefly given the beautiful early birthday gift of a positive pregnancy test. I was in complete shock, not only because it happened naturally but because Peter and I weren't really actively trying for the past couple of months since the IVF failed. I had decided I just wanted a bit of a break from the stress of it all...a break from all the tracking and repeated disappoint.
I go into more detail about how I found out and everything that happened after in my most recent youtube video but for my blog today I want to go more in depth about how much that week of my life was a roller coaster of emotions.
After I found out I was pregnant I went through a variety of emotions all at the same time: happiness, confusion, fear, anxiety, shock, excitement, worry...I knew that this was a chapter of our baby steps journey that was uncharted territory for us. I knew how common early miscarriage was yet I couldn't stop myself from thinking about the future and making plans. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
When I decided to start telling my closest friends and family, I felt like I was at war with myself. I always told myself that I would announce early because even in the event of miscarriage I want to spread awareness and education and even though it would be difficult news to share, I would have a huge support system at my disposal to help me get through it. Yet there I was...hesitating and wondering if it was the right thing to start telling anyone. I followed through with my plans but each time I told someone new I was shaky from excitement and fear, petrified of the thought that I might have to tell the people I love most that it was all for nothing. Telling people and saying it out loud made it feel all the more real and that scared the shit out of me because the more real it felt, the harder it would be to deal with a loss if that were to happen.
Well it did. To say I was devastated is an understatement. I don't even think there are words to properly describe how empty I felt. I was waiting for the call from my clinic with the results of my second blood test and I was so busy with work that I hadn't noticed they left a voicemail. I listened to it 1000% expecting to hear good news so it was like a slap in the face when the nurse said otherwise. I had to listen to it 2 more times to fully hear the words and understand the reality of what it all meant. I definitely went through the stages of grief but not exactly in the order that would be expected.
The denial faze was short lived, spending the rest of the evening googling incessantly for some shred of hope to cling onto that maybe this had happened to someone else and everything turned out fine. I couldn't find a single thing. That much of a drop in HCG levels appeared to mean miscarriage 100% of the time.
I skipped right to bargaining next with a heap of sadness and depression. I am not a religious person but I can tell you that I begged and sobbed and begged some more to anyone or anything that might be listening to stop this from happening to me. Eventually I became a combination of rage and sadness just becoming so angry at the world and not understanding what I did to deserve any of this. I didn't want to talk to anyone, I didn't want to do anything. I spent 3 days laying on the couch binge watching Grey's Anatomy while having crying spells periodically because there are a lot of pregnant people on that show, go figure. But at this point I was still holding back and not letting myself succumb to my emotions, I was trying to be numb.
By the third day I was at my breaking point and I had my breakdown that was 3 days overdue at this point. They say that crying is cathartic and I will definitely agree with that. I gave myself the worst headache that I've had in a long time and it lasted days but after giving in to the grief and spending some time with Peter and finally opening up to him, I felt a lot better. That doesn't mean everything is hunky dory and I'm 100% a-okay again. I'm not. But I feel like I am in the acceptance faze and ready to move on to the next steps. I'm clutching onto the hope that this could happen again and maybe next time it will stick.