That’s exactly how I feel. In limbo. Maybe that word best describes it. 9 weeks pregnant with my third, it took a while to wrap my head around the fact that it was actually happening.. That somehow as a 22 year old, I was capable of being a mother to THREE children. I never was truly content, and I think that’s where the problem was, that’s what my body knew and rejected it.
I miscarried at 9 and a half weeks pregnant, in medical terms described as ‘blighted ovum’. I was gutted although a part of me was slightly, selfishly and shamefully relieved. I felt like a crappy mother the minute I fell pregnant, overwhelmed with emotion although a month before this DH and I were discussing having a third. I had a horrible week, and felt relieved that we had not delved into the idea, I was content with the life I had, and came to realise that having a third would be undue stress on myself, my children and my marriage.
However, God, the universe whatever higher power you believe in had other plans. I felt horrible and almost evil that I cried for 4 hours straight when I found out I was pregnant, don’t get it confused, I would never say that I didn’t want this pregnancy, I kept repeating, I don’t deserve this pregnancy. You see this little being that was being created inside of me deserved a loving Mummy, someone who had butterflies when she realised she was pregnant, someone who was anxious and filled with excitement at her first ultrasound, someone who just couldn’t wait till the day she’d meet him or her. Instead.. I was distraught, dreading the day where I’d be running after three little very dependant children.. Who would suffer? My three year old who I would come to overload with responsibilities beyond his capabilities ? Or will my marriage be sacrificed ? Maybe my sanity ?
So I sat there, waiting for the synographer to call my name, it was the moment every Mother looks forward to.. Hearing the heart beat, excited to make sure everything is okay and baby is healthy… Except that wasn’t me.. And it hurt so much that I couldn’t fix me, fix my mind, fix my heart.. I just wasn’t excited and I hated myself for it. “Can’t see a baby”.. Hearing her say those words, I followed with a sigh of relief and then came the tears, how could I react this way ? Why was I feeling this way ? Why couldn’t I be grateful that I was able to carry another child while others struggle for years. I was selfish, but I could not control it, and I am sorry for it.
I am so so sorry for it.