We lost our first child at five months along in the pregnancy. It was sudden and unexpected. Based on what happened with him, we expected to lose the second one, or if it did manage to make it that it would have serious problems. Amazingly, she was only three weeks early and besides a little jaundice, she was just fine.
Almost every day of that second pregnancy was very hard. Our innocence was gone. I remember days that I'd be driving home from work in a good mood, then see a mother and child walking along and by the time I arrived home, I was sobbing.
We went to the doctor frequently, and every trip we expected to be 'the one'. The one where we were told to go to the hospital and that the baby wasn't going to make it. Eight long months of expecting the worst, squashing hope down ourselves so it couldn't be smashed any other way, hating all the parents who casually complained about their kids all the time. Hating every parent who abused, neglected, and took their children for granted or flat out didn't want them. Ignoring everyone who 'just knew' everything was going to be okay- you can't know things for us and our life. We were going to a specialist monthly, and I was popping over five pills every day.
It was so hard.
But after almost eight months and everything still looking good, we finally were able to hope that just maybe everything would be okay. Maybe we should buy a crib and a car seat. Maybe people could throw a baby shower.
It was still hard when we came out of our appointment at eight months and six days with a command to go to the hospital, time to get the baby out because you're sick. Don't worry, it's not HELLP Syndrome, just toxemia- we can handle this. We came out of the building and just held each other and I cried, especially as we watched a pregnant teenage couple walk in the building.
She was born and perfect (minus a little jaundice and figuring out breastfeeding). She's tall and thin like her dad, but she's definitely a mini-mom sometimes.
We were happy, overwhelmed, and ignoring everyone's "I told you it would be okay"s.
We're pregnant again, just over three months along. Doctor said everything is looking good so far, blood pressure is still low even. I'm just taking a baby asprin along with the pre-natal vitamin this time. Being the third pregnancy, my poor stomach is definitely more stretched and showing more, but I hear that's natural. Baby should come out okay, though probably still a little early given my history of being medically induced because I'm sick.
It should be easier, be more normal, and it is for the most part. But every time something happens, like a headache, I worry that it might be something more. What if it's a sign that something is wrong.
Now that we have a lot of hope for this little one to survive and thrive, if something were to go wrong, we'd fall a long way down after our hope was shattered.
Every time I don't feel as good, I can't help but think that it's a sign that something is wrong. We're not going in every two weeks now, and we know from previous experience that a lot can happen in the four weeks between appointments - the difference between life and death. I will probably think this way the whole pregnancy. Silently building in my head until my husband gets a surprising crying fit. Then it starts over again, he's good about it though.
So when you see us or think of us, send good vibes our way. But just remember, we'll never have the extremely happy pregnancies that so many others have. We'll be excited, but it will always be overshadowed by what if.
On a happier note- we've got an interesting thing going on. I had a dream it was going to be a girl, so that's my thought. My husband had a strong premonition it would be a boy, so that's his thinking. We're excited to find out either way when the baby is born.