What is the drive? Wouldn't life be simpler if I didn't feel so compelled to take care of little creatures, see them grow, love each other, love me, love C. To see what will happen next.
Why do such things fill my heart?
When I was pregnant and exhausted and puking and sick of being nauseous, and crying that i just wanted to eat something and enjoy it...I joked that I understood my mother's expression "I'd rather be 40 than pregnant." I was so happy, silly infertile that I was, to be having twins. My children would each have a sib, I wouldn't feel the need to try to get pregnant again. Secondary infertility wouldn't be a worry. We would be done. I even said it out loud, "it's a good thing it's twins because I'm never going through this again." Or something like that. And I laughed. But really, I was relieved that I wouldn't have to worry about being pg again -- because it would be so hard to get there, so hard to go through it again.
What the fuck was I thinking??
All my life I made jokes about tempting fate. Or, not really jokes, because I sort of half believed it. Before I started spotting, just a teeny bit at 18 weeks, I actually said it out loud: I'm so happy, and things are going so well, like I always wanted. Marriage, career, kids.
Why did I say it out loud? Did the "fates" come strike me down? Did I jinx myself? Did I count my chickens before they were hatched (ugh). Did the universe punish me for asking for too much?
Feels like it. I know, I know. I've discussed this before, this magical thinking. It's not realistic, it's not healthy. If I start to believe that, I start to believe that things happen to people for a reason, that some deserve children and others don't, some deserve pain, some people can "handle" more than others. That there is some force in the universe deciding who gets their wishes fulfilled and who does not.
I am not perfect. I am basically a good person. Usually, I try to be a good person. But I don't deserve this. None of you deserve it. Honestly, I can't think of something a person could do that would make them deserve this pain, and this struggle.
To want this. To have to fight so hard for it. Over and over again. And have it ripped away.
And I want this. Despite all the nausea and all the heartache. Some switch got flipped again, and I want to do this again. I don't think I'm ready. And that pisses me off. But there was something about being pregnant. That is something I want. At the very core of my being.
But I don't trust that I can have it. I don't trust that I can achieve it. I don't trust that I can bring a living child (or two) into the world. And do right by them.
I want to parent. I want to bring a child into the world. And it makes me weep because I want to so badly. And I'm so angry that I got denied this. I'm so angry that on top of infertility, I got denied the pleasure of ever simply trusting in a pregnancy, of trusting a doctor. Of learning to trust my body and my own instincts to take care of myself and my children.
I'm so angry that my children were taken away from me. I'm so angry that I loved them so much and have suffered so much for it. That I let myself love them. And I want to feel that love again. I want the joy of pregnancy. I want another chance.
I'm so angry that I may never get this. And I'm so afraid. Of all of it. What if I never get pg again. What if I do and we lose another child? I honestly don't think I could get through that again.
The sadness and the anger and the pain. Deepest sorrow. The rage. RAGE. (This word can only be in capital letters.) At the loss and the injustice and the struggle. And the pain.