If you don't do personal- I wouldn't keep reading.
I am writing every day, if fact, I am trying to write a book. Today I took a brief hiatus from Mara, my book character, and wrote about something personal and weighing on my heart. I don't quite know why I feel compelled to write it here, but I am.
Free Write 2-10-10
I am the mother of 3 children with birthdays all within a week of each other. Since we’ve been having children Stan and I have fielded poorly made jokes about our sex life, but once we were expecting our second the jokes got even worse: “Oh, you must do it only once a year.” “You must only be fertile in January” “It must be a time when you can really relax because of the holidays” etc. Even the not so rude ones such as “What perfect timing you have” have not been easy to hear. It is true that we have 3 children- all of whom have birthdays within a week of each other, but the truth of the matter is that is just how it worked. We’d been trying to conceive for 6 months before we succeeded with our first child. Our second took 7 months, and our 3rd one was an accident. That old saying “Abstinence is the only birth control with 100% success rate” was, we found out quite true. After being mortified to discover we were expecting- and on top of that in the beginning of October AGAIN, I was not happy. I knew the comments would fly again and again. People just can’t seem to help themselves around a pregnant lady. It’s like there is a license to say anything at all “You just couldn’t get any bigger” is one that comes readily to mind.
The comments did come and I again fielded them with smiles and laughs as usual. We had our 3 beautiful children and I was happy. But, I had also developed a fear of January. In fact I told my husband either was can’t have sex in January or I’m getting an IUD. We got an IUD and I loved that thing. But that’s really not on subject. About 10 months ago I had this vivid dream that God wanted me to have a child, but I couldn’t even accidentally get pregnant because of the IUD. I pulled it out myself that very day. (We’ll not go into how IUD’s are supposed to be removed by your doctor). This act was a huge leap of faith. We were graduating from my husband’s PhD program and didn’t have a job yet, we didn’t know how insurance would work and so forth. I was determined to get pregnant and my husband, not surprisingly, was happy to comply.
A job, a move, and 8 months of trying did not produce a baby. Finally it was January, my “fertile” time. By now I wanted to be pregnant so bad, I wanted to keep trying this month anyhow. Let the inappropriate remarks come (but I didn’t want to have to tell anybody until it was really obvious we were PG).
As you may have guessed, that 9th month, January, we finally conceived a child. I was so happy- I seriously was glowing for a full week and a half. And then I started spotting-something that hadn’t ever happened in any of my pregnancies. I was worried; my husband was relaxed and confident that I would carry the child to full-term. I called my sister who has miscarried 5 or 6 times. She confirmed what I’d looked up online. Calling my doctor’s office-- at 6 weeks they wouldn’t see me. Wait and see I was told. We set up an appointment for 3 weeks out. I did a lot of crying, and then one morning I had heavy bleeding and passed a blood clot. I examined it, worried it might be my child, even setting it aside for a day before finally flushing it away. I still held onto hope- praying often that I might be pregnant still. I kept thinking if I’d really lost it and I would experience period like bleeding. I did not. But I also didn’t feel my typical early pregnancy feelings. I don’t often throw up, but usually feel nauseous and have to eat constantly.
The doctor’s office had told me I could take a birth control test in 2 weeks and see if it was still positive. I took that test yesterday- one of those dollar store ones that you have to supply your own cup for. When I came back to check on it (I couldn’t sit there and watch) -- it was negative. With heavy heart I nodding, confirming what I already thought was probable and spent time grieving my loss.
Now here I am, felling sad and alone-- trying once more to conceive and praying that I won’t have to wait until next January rolls around.