My six-week postpartum appointment was this morning. It felt like a definitive “end” to such a long journey. No more pregnancy-related appointments, ever. I spent time picking out what to wear, as if I wanted to convey “See? Even five years older, tired, and dealing with a baby after loss, I can still bounce back!” The medical staff would not even notice my effort. It was more of an assurance for myself. Continue reading
Use the belief others have in you until you are strong enough to carry that same belief in yourself.
Last night, I said to Ger “I’m doing ok.” Then I woke up shortly before midnight, drenched in sweat, and realized “I’m really not ok.” It is now five days. And by the end of the day, it will be four and a half. Continue reading
Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. -Jorge Luis Borges
I remember so distinctly those first few hours in my hospital room after Quentin was born. One minute, I was feeling constant movement of a baby inside of me, and then he was born and that feeling gone. I have been feeling this baby move for months. Much as I tried to keep myself detached, thinking that distance would help if something were to happen, it became unavoidable as a steady stream of movement captured my attention throughout the day. In those early days of movement, I had to place my hand on my abdomen to feel it, since the anterior placenta made it tricky. It became easier. I could see the movement from the outside. A constant reminder. It doesn’t mean that I loved Nelle or Iris any less, but the time I had with them was shorter. The bond here has had more time to develop into something tangible. Continue reading
So many of my appointments are solo visits. I waver back and forth between wanting Ger there, and thinking “I should be able to do this alone. If this were a normal pregnancy, I would be able to go alone.” In the back of my mind, I still have an inkling of blame, where I feel like this is my cross to bear: my body that failed, therefore I need to take on all of the burden of the pregnancy, and not make it harder for him.
My obsession over every little detail regarding this pregnancy culminates when I have to go to my doctor appointments. Today was no different with my regular OBGYN visit. With Theo, I was the regular amount of first-time-mom nervous. With Quentin, the appointments were boring and the definition of routine. I hate what this pregnancy has done to me: making me question everything and become unhinged by everything. That’s normally not me and it is an uncomfortable place. I sometimes ask the same questions at every single appointment, just because I want to make sure that I’m not missing anything. I worry that I will somehow miss a “sign” of something being wrong, and suffer guilt and blame if tragedy strikes us again. Continue reading