Out of my control

The circumstances of this early pregnancy have thrown all of my expectations and fantasies out the window. Which is okay. I’m really okay with it. Ever since I accepted the fact that I’m an infertile, I gave up on the fantasies. The “just get married and poof – you’re knocked up” fantasy. The “BFP resulting from that one passionate night” fantasy.

Those fantasies are so long gone, I don’t even miss them anymore.

With this past FET cycle, we didn’t tell everyone in the world that we were doing it, unlike our IVF cycle. Very few people knew, which allowed me to concoct a new fantasy wherein I got to announce my pregnancy to family, friends and coworkers after reaching the end of the first trimester.

I thought up this whole thing where we reveal the news to my parents at Thanksgiving. It was going to be great. I was going to give them a “belated anniversary gift” in front of everyone that was our ultrasound pictures. It was going to be beautiful. Everyone was going to cry. It would be amazing.

Except, the bleeding and spotting happened. With the first bleeding episode on the day of my third beta, I spilled the beans to work. I told my supervisor and bosses that I was most likely miscarrying twins. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t really, really think it was over (but I really, really did). When everything ended up looking okay, for the time being, after that first ultrasound, well, the cat was out of the bag with the higher ups at work.

Which was fine, but the more I kept them in the loop, the weirder it felt to have them knowing and not my parents, who I am truly very close with. After the second ultrasound on Monday, which was so inconclusive, scary, heartbreaking and yet encouraging, I decided I needed to tell them. I realized that I’m just never going to get that magical announcement moment. If history tells me anything, I’m always going to have spotting in early pregnancy, which means threatened miscarriage. And if we’re on that path, I need my support network.

So now my parents know and that’s good, I’m glad they know. It feels better this way. Though I do have to let go of the Thanksgiving reveal fantasy.

This week has been very hard on me. I’ve been really struggling with the nausea and sickness. Tuesday was the worst, couldn’t keep anything down. The dark brown spotting has also continued, sometimes with clotty, stringy looking stuff. Worst of all, my husband has been out of town, which I always hate, but especially now with the way I’m feeling and having to do everything on my own. He feels absolutely awful about it. He cried to me last night that he’s worried I’ll get stressed out with him out of town, which will cause something bad to happen and it will be his fault. Poor thing.

Emotionally, aside from being completely overwhelmed, I haven’t really been freaking out. I think I’m tired of freaking out. Here’s what I think is happening: I lost Baby A. Everything that’s coming out is part of that sac breaking up. Meanwhile, Baby B is strong. That’s why I’m so sick. I am fine with all of it. As long as I come out of this with a healthy baby, anything can happen and I’ll be fine with it.

Basically, nothing is going the way I thought it would or wanted it to and that’s okay. It’s all out of my control and I’m finally coming to terms with that.