At first, I was devastated and depressed, but seeing babies and pregnant women helped me feel (slightly) better. I wished that, hopefully, at least they would be having healthy babies - at least one of us should, anyway. But as the weeks went by, I realized how difficult it was getting.
After 6-7 months of trying, when I got pregnant in June, I had gotten lucky - four friends and I were pregnant all at the same time! My sister, my friend RS, my coworker O, and my friend Cole! It was a party and great fun thinking of how our bumps would all get bigger at the same time and how we could compare pictures as we go through milestones of our little ones.
But then we hit that bump and lost ours. I became a ghost, a shell of a mom and wife for a month. I almost got fired from my job because of it. And to add insult to injury, I realized that everyone's bumps were getting bigger and cuter. Every single day, I saw my coworker's belly get bigger and I imagined my own baby the same size. My coworker can feel the movement of her baby, and I could imagine feeling that again. My friend RS is going for her anatomy scan soon and I would have as well. Only I'm not. My stomach is still flat and my uterus empty.
I've discovered it's not so easy to watch others get pregnant and stay pregnant when that's all you wanted, and what you had. Their babies will be born around the time mine was originally due. And I'm sure that week will be a tough one for me (the first week of February 2020). Should I do something special to commemorate him/her? I don't know. Maybe I'll take it one step at a time and feel and identify the emotions.
Some of them right now are jealousy. Hope. Unfairness. Depression. A little anger.
And then I think that if/when I do get pregnant again, I'm going to have anxiety about it. Oh yea. I used to think that pregnancy was a super chill, exciting time where you got to watch your fetus grow into a baby with little waving arms and bouncing legs. Though I always knew the risks, my free spirit regarding pregnancy has officially left - it died with my fourth baby. Nope. If/when I get pregnant again, I know what can go wrong, more than I ever had before (and I consider myself pretty well educated). And, of course, I'm "geriatric" now so that changes other numbers that we have to take into consideration.
But in the meantime, we keep trying and preparing for all the High Holidays. And if we're blessed this year, we're blessed. The odd thinking is that if/when I get pregnant, then I'd "know" (I laugh at that verb) why #4 didn't get to stay earthbound. Because we needed this next particular soul to be the one to join us.
I feel like going through this entire thing leads to all kinds of odd feelings. And they're all valid, odd feelings. So I guess I'll take one day at a time, two weeks at a time. Work on increasing my meditation, my breathing, more practice on self-healing and acceptance.
Conveniently perfect timing as we run into Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.
On that note, may we all be sealed in the Book of Life for the coming year. May we be blessed with the things we need and the babies we desire. May we have family, success, and health, and nothing but good news and healthy children.
And on a less spiritual, but no less meaningful note - let's make 5780 our bitch. Light 'er up.
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