Christmas is depressing
The main reason I feel so depressed is that this time last year the biggest and most utterly devastating disaster of my 36 years was about to happen. I was 20 weeks along in an ill-fated pregnancy.
Last year, I had a cerclage put in on December 8th and then three weeks later, 3 days after Christmas, I came down with a fever. I was minding my own goddamn business, eating some fucking ghoulash THAT I MADE, and I got COLD. Then I got really cold and started shaking. I went to the hospital. I came home four days later, on Happy Fucking New Year’s Day. My baby stayed behind, in the morgue. She had a heart-shaped face, like her big brother. Christmas was retroactively ruined. I can never eat goulash again even though I love it. Life as I knew it ended with that fucking bowl of stew.
Today we went to a tree farm to cut down our tree. We did that last year. Last year at the tree farm we got a cute picture of the four of us. I was visibly pregnant. We put the picture on our holiday card that announced we were expecting a baby girl in April. This year at the tree farm I didn’t feel quite as cute and pregnant. I felt a grim reminder of the disaster that was about to unfold last year at this time.
Every year when we put away our Christmas stuff, I write a letter to myself to be opened the following year. This year I opened last year’s letter. It was a sad letter as it had been written one week after the BFN (Big F*cking Nightmare). I closed the letter with “I’ll always remember this year as the Christmas that took my baby away.” Sadness. The reminders are everywhere and in everything.
I suppose I should be grateful that I am pregnant again. I am grateful. But. While I was moping over my dinner tonight, Rocket Man asked how I was. “Contemplative” was my reply. “About the past, present, or future?,” he asked. “It’s thinking about the past that makes the future so scary which is why I can’t enjoy the present.” Therein lies my dilemma. I can’t not know what I know. I could get another infection from the cerclage and it could happen too early for my baby to live.
At the same time while I am writing this I am reminded that I don’t want my whole pregnancy to suck because I was terrified the whole time. What if everything turns out fine? I will have ruined it all by obsessing just like I did with my living daughter.
Before I stop obsessing for the night and repair to the couch for a few belly rubs, there is the matter of another reason I am depressed by Christmas. Somehow this reason isn’t as present for me as the spectacular disaster of last Christmas. I almost, not quite, have to remind myself. Oh yeah, I’m also miserable because I was supposed to be due in 5 weeks with the baby that I lost this summer. Oh yeah, that little boy that I held in my hand after birthing him in my bathroom. I should be washing baby clothes for him. Except that his ashes are in my kitchen cabinet. I would’ve been almost there and instead I’m here. Waiting. To see if the other shoe is going to drop.
27 weeks to go. Today it hardly seems possible.
Last year, I had a cerclage put in on December 8th and then three weeks later, 3 days after Christmas, I came down with a fever. I was minding my own goddamn business, eating some fucking ghoulash THAT I MADE, and I got COLD. Then I got really cold and started shaking. I went to the hospital. I came home four days later, on Happy Fucking New Year’s Day. My baby stayed behind, in the morgue. She had a heart-shaped face, like her big brother. Christmas was retroactively ruined. I can never eat goulash again even though I love it. Life as I knew it ended with that fucking bowl of stew.
Today we went to a tree farm to cut down our tree. We did that last year. Last year at the tree farm we got a cute picture of the four of us. I was visibly pregnant. We put the picture on our holiday card that announced we were expecting a baby girl in April. This year at the tree farm I didn’t feel quite as cute and pregnant. I felt a grim reminder of the disaster that was about to unfold last year at this time.
Every year when we put away our Christmas stuff, I write a letter to myself to be opened the following year. This year I opened last year’s letter. It was a sad letter as it had been written one week after the BFN (Big F*cking Nightmare). I closed the letter with “I’ll always remember this year as the Christmas that took my baby away.” Sadness. The reminders are everywhere and in everything.
I suppose I should be grateful that I am pregnant again. I am grateful. But. While I was moping over my dinner tonight, Rocket Man asked how I was. “Contemplative” was my reply. “About the past, present, or future?,” he asked. “It’s thinking about the past that makes the future so scary which is why I can’t enjoy the present.” Therein lies my dilemma. I can’t not know what I know. I could get another infection from the cerclage and it could happen too early for my baby to live.
At the same time while I am writing this I am reminded that I don’t want my whole pregnancy to suck because I was terrified the whole time. What if everything turns out fine? I will have ruined it all by obsessing just like I did with my living daughter.
Before I stop obsessing for the night and repair to the couch for a few belly rubs, there is the matter of another reason I am depressed by Christmas. Somehow this reason isn’t as present for me as the spectacular disaster of last Christmas. I almost, not quite, have to remind myself. Oh yeah, I’m also miserable because I was supposed to be due in 5 weeks with the baby that I lost this summer. Oh yeah, that little boy that I held in my hand after birthing him in my bathroom. I should be washing baby clothes for him. Except that his ashes are in my kitchen cabinet. I would’ve been almost there and instead I’m here. Waiting. To see if the other shoe is going to drop.
27 weeks to go. Today it hardly seems possible.
posted by whatthef*ck at 6:40 PM
11 Comments:
Oh holy hell. It is possible, so possible...I can feel it.
But I am surprised you are not a complete and utter wreck this month. I also find myself remembering this time last year...how scared you were then. It might take a few years to reclaim winter as a season, not just Christmas.
My advice to you is to go ahead and let yourself be scared and sad. YOu are going to feel it anyway, might as well have permission. I think you need to grieve some. Do som big crying. I promise you will be able to stop. Although I think your drive towards positivity is great for you right now, I also think you put a lot of pressure on yourself to "enjoy" this pregnancy. You are doing great just as you are WTF, and you have all the permission in the world to be a little scared shitless, and to want to hide a little, and to want to be taken care of. You have been through so much over the last 2 years. I think you are amazing and brave. Hugs to you.
Ugh. I think you have a lot of good reason to be contemplative. You've been through so much already. But the bottom line is it sucks to have the joy of pregnancy snatched away. Not to mention the wide-eyed optimism that everything will be okay. Pregnancy should be enjoyed and not merely endured, right? I'm 13w today and after 2 m/cs and a awful ectopic, I can't relax. I have an appt. on moday and am fully prepared to see two dead babies (twins). It would be great to think that there is an option other than being pregnant and scared, but each day forward is another day behind. It may not be the best attitude to have to get through a pregnancy but you have to do the best that you can. Considering the circumstances, I think you are doing a great job.
Oh WTF, I'm so sorry but completely understand why you're feeling depressed. I was in a shopping centre yesterday and stood transfixed with tears rolling down my face, not by the decorations etc., but by a card I saw in a shop which said "It's a boy!" Instead of getting cards like that, I got cards in grey, beiges and white which said "With deepest sympathy."
I don't have anything to say to make you feel better, but I will say this - if (when - please, I wish this with all my heart) your pregnancy ends in a healthy baby, the time you spent worrying throughout it will be forgotten in the blink of an eye as you contemplate your crying baby.
((WTF))
I am so sorry, hon. It sucks to have things ruined by damn dead babies. Christmas for you. Penguins for me. Fuckers.
By the way, I think we need to start some sort of virtual version of a real life support group. Jennifer (commented above) is someone I actually know in real life and you are someone I will inevitable know in real life soon (how's late March?) and you two are at exactly the same place (and have both been through twice as much (or more) crap as I have). And now I am tentatively here with you, just behind. What should we have? A joint blog project? A private 3 person listserv? Pregnant Terrified Bitches, Inc.? Think it over, ladies.
Oh, and the jizo statues are at http://www.dharmacrafts.com/ - if searching 'jizo' doesn't work, try statues and page through. I left it for you on mine but I think it got buried.
jennifer- i can't figure out how to comment on your blog. it seems that your blog doesn't accept comments? my understanding is that the 1st trimester ends at the end of week 13. i'll be there (14 weeks) on friday. when will you be there? shortly it seems. my fingers are crossed for you. good luck at your monday appt. those kids just have to be okay.
bri-congrats again. you made that part (post disaster)look easy. thanks for the link about the jizo statues. it's about time for me to get the dead babies out of my cabinet.
charlotte & rosepetal- thanks as always for your insightful and empathic comments. let's get you two pregnant (well, s for you charlotte) and then we can all be terrified and occasionally joyful together!
I'm sorry, just sorry that things suck. Such sadness.
Would you mind me linking to your blog from mine?
Ohh. Your little boy was supposed to have been due the same week as mine. I lost the baby in May.
((hugs))
This sucks, eh?
[By way of explanation, I'm an on-and-off lurker, this is just my first time commenting here.]
WTF - I'm so there with you. I should be having my baby tomorrow. I should by buying all those cheesy little outfits that say "baby's first christmas". Instead, I am contemplating how many embryos to put back in later this week. I will be pregnant again and I will eventually have a baby. However I will always mourn for my first baby that should have been born tomorrow and my second baby that should have been born in April.
I just wanted to say that I believe in you and little sprout :) We'll get through this crummy season and hopefully it will be a happy one again.
Also, I ate honey nut cherrios the night that my son was born, and I haven't touched them since. Thank you for mentioning the goulash...I thought that I was doing yet another crazy thing.
Comments are on now so comment away...You are 2 days ahead of me. I will be 14W on Sunday. Which means 14 long, torturous weeks behind me and 26 (or less, with twins) long, torturous weeks to go. Ugh...
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