This Post Was Supposed To Be Happier

Last week, I was pregnant. It didn’t stick, which I feel I need to mention right away so no one jumps to congratulate me only to feel bad about it later. I’m not pregnant now. I was pregnant, now I am not.

I had such a great reveal story, too. We’ve been trying for a long time now, almost a year, and after another month of negative tests at the end of August I decided to just give up until October. October marked 12 months of no babies, so my doctors would finally talk to me about fertility testing. With E’s crazy work hours the chance of getting pregnant without charting and calendars and schedules were almost zero…but that didn’t stop me from bringing a couple cheap pregnant tests to Atlanta just in case I was late. Even though I wasn’t trying my brain has been automatically keeping track of the days and….maybe…?

On Sunday morning, just before breakfast at the Type-A conference, I peed on a stick. I stared at it for 30 seconds but only got one line. Of course I only got one line. I’m doomed to only get one line forever. I set it on the counter and left. When my roommate Miranda and I came back up to the room a while later I picked it up to throw it away (because ew, what was I thinking?!)…and there was a second line. TWO LINES. I screamed “Miranda!!!” and threw the door open and she was standing there smiling at me.

“I know!” she said. “I saw!”

“But there was one line! There was only one line this morning!” I said.

“Right before we went downstairs, I saw it and though ‘Hey, that an HCG test, not an ovulation test’! I didn’t want to say anything!” Miranda said.

“Aaaaahhhhhh! You saw! You didn’t tell me! Oh my god! Two lines! But we gave up – I’ve been trying for so long, we gave up!” I rambled and laughed and cried and she hugged me and I was so so happy.

My roommate knew I was pregnant before I did. I called E and informed him he was actually the THIRD person to find out, but not to feel bad since I was the second.

Isn’t that a cute story? My own mini 2-hour version of I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant. I couldn’t stop myself from telling a few friends (and a few strangers) right away, but promised myself I’d wait a respectable amount of time to announce it officially, since the books tell you to wait. Now I know why people wait.

On Monday I got another positive at home, with a fancy digital test. I took a picture of it, just to prove to myself it was real. On Thursday morning I wasn’t feeling particularly pregnant – which is pretty normal, it happened with both of the kids – so I peed on another stick to reassure myself.

One line.

I tried the digital test. Not pregnant. I started to worry, but with no symptoms one way or another I couldn’t do anything. I called the doctor to ask if they could confirm, but the office on base won’t even test you until 2 weeks after your period is due, so I had another 8 days before I could go in. I asked Dr. Google, I asked my Facebook chat friends, but no one had a magic crystal ball that could tell me anything. So I waited and crossed all my crossables and prayed and wished and tried to lie as still as possible, as if just NOT MOVING could make this pregnancy stick.

It didn’t work. It unstuck, and now I am back where I was at the end of August, with one line on the test. I don’t feel like I lost a baby – at not even 5 weeks I think it’s only considered a chemical pregnancy and I didn’t have enough time to absorb the news, let alone get attached. It wasn’t a baby, it was the promise of a baby. Or may the suggestion of a baby, since no one is promised anything, especially by their own bodies. I didn’t pin any pregnancy reveal ideas or make any lists or imagine nursery themes or browse Etsy for cute hats or think of clever ways to put it on the blog. There wasn’t any time. I haven’t lost a pregnancy before, and I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to feel, but it’s mostly just kind of disappointed. I was really looking forward to being pregnant. Those 4 positive days have thrown my hormones and emotions totally out of whack though. All I really want is a couple of hours of alone time to lie in bed and feel sorry for myself and eat a pint of ice cream, but I haven’t had the chance. E is stuck at work close to 100 hours a week – that’s not a typo or an exaggeration – so he barely even knows what’s happening and can’t be here to talk or help or keep things together. He’s under so much stress already dumping all of this on him seems completely unfair.

And as if that disappointment wasn’t enough, I have a slightly horrifying, extremely personal medical thing that flared up again the second I got a positive test and by Saturday was almost unbearable. I’ll spare you the details but it involves a scalpel and stitches in a very sensitive (not thoroughly numbed) area and possibly major surgery in a few weeks, which I don’t know how I’m going to schedule since E can’t even get out of work to watch the kids for my urgent appointment, let alone something that’s not considered an emergency. Throw in the government shutdown and the threat we might not get paid (and the reality that the reenlistment bonus installment E gets each October is nowhere to be found) and I’m sort of stressed out. All of THAT on top of the non-pregnancy means I feel like everything sucks right now. I wish I’d never taken that test. I never would have known and the status quo of no baby never would have changed.

It’s all just…shitty. It’s shitty. I feel shitty.

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32 Responses to “This Post Was Supposed To Be Happier”

  1. Kelly says:

    Oh. When I had my miscarriage, someone told me I had just earned my membership card to the shitty club that no one wants to be a member of. It doesn’t matter how pregnant you were – it sucks and it’s not fair and sometimes you just need to go outside and throw things. I know it doesn’t really help, but please realize that a lot of us have gone through this and you are most definitely not alone. If I weren’t in Kentucky, I’d come watch you kids so you could go throw stuff and eat your ice cream.

  2. Page says:

    I’m so sorry, Suzanne. That all just sucks. All of it. It really, really sucks. Thinking of you over the next few weeks.

  3. Leah says:

    What a bummer. I am sorry you are dealing with so much crap right now. Sometimes I really wish mailing small children was an option, then I could offer some help other than words and internet hugs.

  4. I am so, so sorry. Even though it all happened so quickly doesn’t make it suck any less. I hope the gingers are extra adorable to take your mind off things, and that you are getting appropriate doses of chocolate or wine or ice cream or whatever helps. xoxo ~Laura

  5. Kristi says:

    All of this just stinks. Plain stinks. And there is not a lot of it that you can control which is even worse. I am eating gelato in your honor tonight and want you to know that I am hugging you from the Windy City.

  6. Lacey says:

    I totally get it. Going through something pretty similar (maybe? maybe not? Limbo sucks.) as we speak. And it does absolutely suck. I am so sorry and hope hope hope that you get a chance to share some happy news ASAP.

    Also, I appreciate it so much when people talk about miscarriages. I hate that it’s such a taboo thing when the thing that helps me the most is to just talk about it.

  7. straderspiel says:

    I agree it’s shitty. And I’m truly sorry you have to go through this. There’s lots of family in Ohio that would be only too happy to have the kids for an extended vacation while you get any emotional/medical needs met. Seriously.

  8. Robyn says:

    I feel for you too. When I lost my baby, we were in limbo for weeks. I had confirmed tests, but the early ultrasound showed a blighted ovuum. I waited another 2.5 weeks for the actual miscarriage and it was awful. I kept thinking maybe they did the ultrasound too soon and just didn’t see it yet. Sorry to make this about me…I really wasn’t trying too…I was just trying to let you know that I know how it goes. And it sucks, and you have the right to feel however you feel. If you want to talk off the blog, please let me know!

  9. Mama Durso says:

    Oh, Suzanne. I just want to give you a hug and take your gingers to my house to play with my towheads for a day so you can eat that pint of ice cream and have your pity party. Every girl needs some time to feel sorry for herself, especially when it has to do with pregnancy. Everything about this situation sucks. I really hope that you have happier news to share with us soon.

  10. molly says:

    Ugh, damn it. I’m so sorry, Suzanne! What an awful thing to happen. You’ll be in my prayers. I can’t believe you might have to have major surgery on top of all this! It’s too much for one person. If I were there I would totally come babysit so you could have time to cry and eat that ice cream. ((hugs))

  11. MKP says:

    *hugs* I’m sorry that you’re feeling shitty. That /is/ shitty. let me know if there’s anything I can do. You could bring the munchkins to the city and veg on my couch/a park bench while I chase them, if that would help!

  12. Barbra says:

    I’m so sorry. It does suck. But please know that people love you and are thinking about you. It’s okay to say life sucks every now and then. Because it does.

  13. Kirsten says:

    Life is so shite at times, just bollocks to it all. Put the telly on, fire up netflicks and go and eat ALL the ice cream and ALL the cake and ALL the chocolate while the kids aren’t watching and E isn’t home from work. And then put the kids to bed and drink ALL the wine. Really sorry, its a bobbins thing to go through.

  14. Alena says:

    I love you Suzanne! <3

  15. Audrey says:

    A year before we decided to try for Ev I lost a pregnancy I didn’t even know existed until the bleeding started. It was unexpected and not even a thought at the time, it was still rough. You have been waiting a whole year for this pregnancy. I think you should give yourself some space to grieve. And permission to feel however you are feeling. Because, yeah. Shitty.

  16. Carrie says:

    Thanks for sharing your story. None of that is easy to talk about but hopefully knowing all of the love and support you have makes your day a little bit better. Hugs and prayers are being sent your way!

  17. Tottums says:

    I love you. I’m so sorry, and I love you. <3

  18. sarah says:

    Oh Suzanne, that just stinks! I know how hard it is to be pregnant and then not, no matter how short a time it is. Thinking of you.

    If you want me to come watch your kids or have them come play with mine or hang out at a park or something so you can have your appointment I’d be more than happy to, anytime!!

  19. Brigid Keely says:

    This right here is why I don’t test until my period is about 5 weeks late, because otherwise I’m just setting money on fire and getting my hopes up. It super hugely sucks. Especially when one goes through the turmoil of morning sickness etc for no baby payout.

    There’s a million different ways to feel about pregnancy loss, and while there’s a few dominant narratives, an expectation of what formerly pregnant people SHOULD feel or OUGHT to feel, whatever YOU are feeling is right and correct and ok. If you don’t feel exactly the way you “should,” that’s ok. That’s fine, and that’s normal. Your feelings might change over time, they might not. It’s all alright.

    I hope you’re able to have a healthy pregnancy and another awesome kid.

  20. Jody says:

    I’m sorry for the shitty hours (I can relate, my partner only works 80’s and I hate it) and for the shitty news. Chemical or not, when it doesn’t stick it sucks.

    I hope you get some time to see to everything and to go outside and throw some stuff like Kelly suggested. And to eat that ice cream and process everything.

    All the best. xx

  21. Celia says:

    I’m so sorry about the non-pregnancy and about everything. Don’t feel bad if you feel more upset that you “should,” most of the time these things hit us really hard. I needed even more than 4 hours, and didn’t get it either (one of the hardest parts of parenting for me). That in-between stage is just the worst. One thing that really helped me when I got sad about miscarriages was thinking about something adorable or amusing that my daughter had done recently. I don’t mean focusing on gratitude for already having a child (that didn’t help), it would just cheer me up more than other things. Thanks so much for sharing something that doesn’t get talked about enough.

  22. Miranda says:

    Love you, friend. I’m a FB message away no matter what you need to say or when.

  23. Sarah says:

    I’m so sorry.

    I know I’m just a random blog person, and we’ve only met once IRL, but we are really not that far away – if you need help for your surgery and recovery, I could definitely shift my schedule here and come up to watch gingers/chauffeur you to the doctor or whatever. Let me know.

  24. Liz says:

    I’m sorry, Suzanne :(.

    I hope you get your ice cream eventually :).

  25. Jen says:

    I’m so sorry to hear your sad news. I’ve had you in my thoughts since the first time you mentioned you were having trouble.

    I might not know what you situation feels like exactly, but I can sympathize. I’d like to have another but because of my medical condition, everyone is pretty set against me doing it. Not for my sake but for the potential child’s.

    I hope, with all my heart, that things start looking up for you soon.

  26. Jenna says:

    So many hugs. It’s a weird sense of loss when you barely had it to begin with, isn’t it? Like, you almost feel guilt for feeling sad. Don’t. Feel all the feels, Suz. I’m always here with a sympathetic ear, friend. Apparently I am also a poet who didn’t know it. <3

  27. Denae says:

    Oh girl my heart goes out for you. Definitely buy ice cream, put kids in front of the TV, and go cry your eyes out. There is nothing else to say. (((Texas sized hugs for you)))

  28. Joanna says:

    Oh Suzanne. I wish I could bring you that ice cream. Hugs.

  29. Christa says:

    So sorry for y our super shitty news. I’ve been on both sides of the miscarriage, knowing I was pregnant before it happened and not knowing until I was miscarrying. Both are equally shitty.

  30. Katie says:

    I have no good words to say all that sucks!!! Sucks BaD! And I am sorry that you have to go through all this. I have been hoping for you (and your womb). I am sending you hugs, Milano cookies, ice cream, a huge glass of wine, and a massage!

  31. Anna says:

    honey, that IS shitty. Not sure what else to say except I’m sorry and that I hope your medical thing turns out to be not serious after all. Sending some virtual hugs from across the Atlantic x

  32. Becca says:

    I am late on this but I just wanted to send hugs and love and tell you that you’re in my prayers.

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