Two important pieces of info before we get into the details of this post…
-It’s been 2 weeks since the miscarriage and D&C, and I had thought I was reaching a point of “acceptence” of the event as I haven’t been crying in the past week
-The husband had a job interview in NYC yesterday. If things go well, we’ll probably be moving there in 6-8 weeks, which is fine.
So last night the husband called me and said that the interview had gone well, and he was hoping to recieve an offer. Which led to discussions about potential salary and lifestyle issues. He mentioned that the first year might be tough as it’s an industry where you get a base plus bonus, and obviously he wouldn’t be getting one of those big bonuses come 1/1/08 because he’d have been there for 6 weeks at most.
“I know you’re not going to like this idea, but maybe if we put trying on hold for awhile…” he began
At which point my head exploded.
There were tons of hysterics (mine) attempts to calm down (or rather for him to calm me down), and even mention of the “d” word if he forced me to put trying on hold. I wouldn’t really divorce him, but when I get hysterical, I pull out the big guns.
At one point I screamed “Don’t you understand that I’m SUPPOSED TO BE THREE MONTHS PREGNANT RIGHT NOW???????”
And that’s pretty much when I realized….I’m not handling it well. I’m staying busy and when I don’t think about it, I’m okay. I’m not fine. I’m not dealing with it-I’m repressing it. It’s not that I’m imagining I’m still pregnant, I’m not. It’s that I understand that I have to wait TTC until January, or maybe March 1 with the new job. The second March 2nd even becomes a TTC date, I lose it.
I need to try again. I need to prove to myself that I’m not defective. I need to prove that Hope’s loss was just a tragic unfortunate “these things happen” kind of thing, and not because there’s a huge flaw in my uterus, or in the combination of Husband and my own DNA. Or that my eggs are fucked up. Or his sperm. I need to KNOW.
I turn 29 in 12 days. Which I’m fine with. It does bring 30 into sharp relief though. And I can’t ignore that I always planned to have my first kid by 30. Or, and this is the big one, that I was SUPPOSED to have my first child next spring. It’s not that things happened and I decided to postpone kids and rewrite the life plan, it’s that it was SUPPOSED to happen. I got pregnant on the first try goddamnit!
And I realize how angry I really am beneath the calm. How I haven’t accepted how much losing Hope has affected my life and my mind and my heart. How hurt I still feel.
And how I’m not handling things well at all.