Two doctor’s appointments down. The first to confirm the pregnancy (I think my beastly appetite and tender, painful breasts posed enough evidence), and the last one which was our first ultrasound. “Baby looks great…implanted well…strong heartbeat…nothing to worry about,” we heard. Once the sonographer left the room I said to my husband: “Nothing to worry about?…HAHAHAHA!!!!!. He laughed with me, maybe out of fear, as I did sound a little nutty. It was surreal to hear that everything looked well. Toward the end of my pregnancy with Emi, all I heard was how badly she was doing. It was very weird to hear “everything looks great.” I remember when the sonographer showed us Tadpole, I just looked on, oddly unmoved. But later, when I heard his (I think its a boy), heartbeat, I gave in – I smiled. I was touched. Whether Tadpole is here for the long haul or only for a season, he’s mine and I love him.
I have a strange sense of peace, like whatever is going to happen is just going to fucking happen. I did everything in my power to bring forth a healthy baby with E and it didn’t happen. My uncle’s girlfriend smoked her entire pregancy, never took a prenatal drug, hardly went to the doctor’s, and delivered a perfectly healthy girl last November. I watched a tv special in which a woman not knowing she was pregnant decided to go skydiving. Sure enough her parachute fails, she falls to the ground and broke half the bones in her body. Sure enough she had a healthy baby. Shall I go on? Fate, fate, fate, yes I am a beleiver of fate.
I feel all these twinges in my southern regions, and I am hardly phased. Rewind, to a year ago, and I would have been freaking out, convinced a miscarraige was inevitable. With Emi, I ran to the emergency room 2x for minor spotting. All the time, I was told everything is fine, your os is closed, and your baby has a strong heartbeat. HAHAHA! (reader beware: manic behavior). She died.
I’m either in God’s highest graces or I have lost my mind, because somehow I am coping with this pregnancy. Insanity or God’s blessing, I’ll take either one, so long as i’m given peace. I think when I told God that I was ready good or bad for whatever he had in store, I meant it. I am eerily calm.
On to other subjects…we are having a superbowl party this sunday. Work is just as dysfunctional as ever. I’m gaining weight like it’s going out of style. My home is looking more and more like someoene else’s because i’m so damn lazy and tired lately, that practically only my husband cleans. I have to wrap this post up because my cousin in on an inbound train, and she’s due in in about 20 minutes. (the word ‘in’ occured 4x in that last sentence…geez.) I feel lonely more often as my husband is working late again and is going out for drinks with his colleagues more often. My husband told me MD is due in March, that freakin pain the ass. I don’t know how I feel about that…i’m happy for her…but after the stunt she pulled I want to keep her at arm’s length.
My husband hardly talks to me about his family and friends. I alienated them after Emi’s death. Yesterday, when I tried bringing them up and asking about them, he gave me crap answeres…he just wants to avoid the subject. But he got me pissed and I just blew up….I told him your hardly home and when you are, you don’t talk to me. I went to bed, and he apologized this morning. And just when he got through apologizing….I get a call from the hospital where I had my stillbirth. It turns out the bill he was supposed to dispute over 4 months ago, yes the one that I reminded him of…over and over again…has just gone to collections. I wanted to murder him.
This is exactly what I need right now of all times…to go back and forth and discuss the painful details of Emi’s stillbirth with the hospital…while I’m trying to get through this pregnancy.
ahhhh…the husband…I love him…I —– him…
Shoot! I have to go and get my cousin now!