What the hell was I thinking? What the hell is wrong with me? Do I enjoy torturing myself? That must be it because I have no other explanation. Goddammit.
Did you know that g.mail saves chats? Well, I learned this a few weeks ago. I just checked my email and found myself clicking on the chats link. Oh, God, why am I such an idiot.
I don't use chat a lot, mostly just with my friend S and my brother. "Found" myself reading through the chats from November and December. It's amazing how much is documented there.
*How pukey I was.
*Talking about the NT
*When I started to show around 12 or 13 weeks.
*Talking about coming out to people, enjoying sharing the good news.
*Visits overnight in the hospital to get fluids.
*Calling Dr. Coldfish late at night because he was on call, him being kind of a jerk.
*My insurance refusing home health care for fluids.
*Waiting for the amnio results.
*S telling me she was pregnant. I was the first person she told.
*Getting excited about being pg together.
*My feeling the first undeniable movement "thump!" and realizing the week or two of flutters were really my boys moving around. That thump was 12/10/07. About 17 weeks. "Went from zero to bawling in 10 seconds flat."*Being able to eat; cereal and milk -- craving the milk, drinking it straight, which was weird because I never really liked milk.
*Noting that there seemed to be less movement, but I hadn't been feeling anything consistently, so I dismissed it.
*Spotting a little around 18 weeks.
That was the last chat with S before my water broke not quite 10 days later. It occurs to me that I noticed my belly seemed less round when my dad was here the next week.
I know, I need to let it go. Once I get started, I start to recall in detail all the things I "did wrong."
Why do I do this to myself. I was....I was going to say I was feeling better, but that's not true. Maybe I was too close to feeling okay. Reading all that brought back how happy I was -- despite the nausea and everything else -- how happy and excited I was. How hopeful and scared. And happy.
And I know I'll never feel that again. Even though I was still crossing my fingers, I felt real hope, almost confidence, that things would be okay. I'm never going to be able to trust that ever again.
I stopped. I closed the mail window. And then I felt it. I felt the panic and heartache. Goddammit.
Remembering the joy makes it hurt that much more.