Becoming pregnant again wasn’t exciting
I dreaded conceiving again. When my husband first asked if we could try again, I shut him out. I didn’t want to hear it. I wasn’t ready, mentally or physically. My body, nor my heart, could handle going through another pregnancy. In some ways, it felt like all conceiving again would accomplish was a horrible attempt at trying to replace the baby we lost. But the biggest fear was trying again, only to lose another.
Eventually, we did try again, and conceived. At the time I write this, I’m 42 weeks pregnant with the baby that we tried with again. When I found out I was pregnant, I wasn’t happy, nor was I sad. Honestly, I was just indifferent.
I check for blood every day
Every. Damn. Day. I check for blood in the toilet and in my underwear. Of course, now that I’m 42 weeks, a little bit of bloody show would be a good sign, but still… This entire pregnancy I’ve constantly feared seeing blood, just like I did the morning I woke up miscarrying.
No point in this pregnancy feels like “the safe zone”
There’s no such thing as a “safe zone” (past the first trimester) with a pregnancy after loss. Every single day, every single trimester, feels like a “danger zone” until this baby is safely out of my body and in my arms.
Bonding during pregnancy has been almost impossible
I have never had a difficult time bonding with my babies while they were in the womb. I’ve always felt a very strong connection to each of my children as they grew inside of me. With each, I knew their gender before it was ever revealed. I also kind of knew what their personalities would be like before ever meeting them. But with this baby, it has been so hard to have that same connection.
Sadly, I’ve realized that this lack of connection is all my own doing.
I’ve been so scared to bond with this baby. He’s tried to connect with me. I’ve felt him reaching out. But I’ve shut myself off because this entire pregnancy I’ve been so scared of losing him. It all seemed like it would be easier to go through this pregnancy if I just didn’t try to open myself up to him. Instead, its made this pregnancy even more agonizing.
This pregnancy is nearly over and I’m just now realizing that my fear is preventing me from knowing him. I’m working on acknowledging my fear and trying my best to show my baby that I am scared, but that I know he and I can do this, together.
October and February are two bittersweet months for me
I miscarried in October and the baby I lost was due in late February. The baby I carry in my womb now was conceived sometime in February and is due anytime now, now being in October. I certainly didn’t plan things to end up like this, it’s just kind of how it all happened.
In a way, it’s sweet. But at the same time, I feel like I jinxed myself from being able to have time to grieve. I’m trying to find the joy and peace behind these two months, and honor the blessings and the losses.
I question myself constantly
Before my miscarriage, I had such a strong belief in myself, the birth process, and my body’s ability to deliver a healthy baby. Ever since my miscarriage, I have found myself questioning my beliefs and what I know to be true.
I ended up doing a few things differently this pregnancy, like getting an ultrasound, but ultimately, I have found my way back to trusting in myself and my baby. It took time, lots of tears, and LOTS of research, but I eventually found my way.
Having PPD is a legitimate fear this pregnancy
This time around, I’ve been terribly afraid of having Postpartum Depression (PPD). With my other babies, I never had that fear. I’ve had PPD before, after giving birth to Big A. Even though I had it with him, I never worried about getting it with Little a. I knew that the PPD I had with him was due to a horrible hospital experience and his NICU stay preventing us from bonding.
This time around, though, I’m worried that no matter how perfect Bitty A’s birth goes, I’ll have PPD due to unresolved grief from my miscarriage. This fear has only been exacerbated through mine and my husband’s separation. But I have hope. I have herbs, foods, and a minimal stress environment now, so I’m hoping those will help me as much as possible.
I will always want the baby I lost
I’ve always known that nothing would replace the baby that I lost, especially not having another baby. Despite knowing this, it has still been hard coming to terms with what I lost and knowing that I’ll never meet my little baby.
I’ll never hold him in my arms.
I’ll never be able to kiss him as he nurses.
I’ll never watch him grow and learn.
But I did know him. I knew him in my womb. Even though we never truly got to meet one another, I felt as much love for him as I’ve felt with each and every one of my other babies. His time here was short, but he was well loved and wanted and he taught me so much. And in the end, knowing that I felt all that for him in the few short weeks I got to know him helps me to continue on.