For the sake of my sanity, it’s great to have the weeks pass quickly. For the sake of work, not so good.
So last week’s high over the painless progesterone was entirely shot by this week’s experience. My butt still hurts. Georgia, the nurse from last week, was careful to choose a soft spot, while this nurse just jammed it in and must have hit a muscle or something because I feel like someone kicked me HARD. If I were more assertive, I’d request never to have her do it again, but I worry too much about hurting people’s feelings or getting them in trouble. The best I can probably do will be to tell the doctor at the next appointment how much it hurt the second time, without suggesting a reason….It was in the left cheek this time and the last two nights I haven’t been able to sleep on my left side very well at all.
Wanna Be Mom asked in a comment a few days back whether being pregnant again helps me feel less jealous of other pregnant women, and whether people in my life think I must be okay now that I’m pregnant again. I can’t answer the latter question very well. It seems like people who think I should be all better by now would think that regardless of my current pregnant state. Because the people who understood our devastation six months ago understand now – or at least they’re trying. My world is very small. I don’t work outside the house and I have considerable control over who I see and talk to. And I seem to be very blessed in my circle of friends and family. There are a few outliers, but that’s it. And if people are uncomfortable with my grief, those I confide in are certainly doing their best to work through it.
Yesterday a good friend and I got on the subject of ultrasounds and “natural” pregnancy. She mentioned a woman who feels that ultrasounds are too invasive so she’d refused them during her pregnancy – that they upset the baby. She determined this after her first ultrasound, the one used to determine whether a pregnancy is intra-uterine rather than ectopic. We both thought that sounded ridiculous, the idea of an embryo or even a 8-10 week fetus sensing and feeling hurt by an ultrasound. Transvaginals aren’t the most fun for the woman, I admit. Still by later pregnancy babies are aware, and I mentioned that Natan towards the end would try to kick the doppler and the ultrasound wand. But I have no reason to think it was hurting him. Just that he’d become a sensate being and was checking out his world. That was a long-winded way of getting to a perhaps insignificant point. This friend didn’t seem at all bothered that I would mention my last pregnancy and deceased son. I know she can’t be used to people talking about their dead babies, but she cares so she listens. A guy, a friend of Josh’s, said to me the first time I saw him after losing Natan, that he wanted to be there for us, but just had no idea what to say. I responded that that’s okay, we don’t even know what to feel. I think it helps to realize that very few people, and almost no one my age, are familiar with our kind of loss. Some people clearly don’t have space for other people’s feelings and are bothered by the intrusion of my pain on their lives. I’m fortunate not to have many of them around and I don’t have to contend very often with the random acquaintance.
So, the second question. Am I still jealous of other pregnant women? Sort of and not all the time. It’s not a seething jealousy, and it’s situationally determined. I am jealous of their security, and of the fact that most women who are visibly pregnant have reason to be secure. Chances are they will get to bring that baby home alive. Chances are good for me too, but even better for other women. So I do feel sad that I can’t have that feeling. I’m not jealous of their pregnancies, I just want to feel happy and secure like them. And I want to happily read pregnancy sites and visit maternity stores and baby stores and make plans. I want to feel like I at least have a voice in pregnancy discussions, and so often I feel shut out of that.