The Miscarriage Chant

I'm so nervous about miscarriage. I compulsively search the internet for miscarriage statistics, but it never makes me feel any better (obviously). I'm obsessing- miscarriage, miscarriage, miscarriage....it's always in my head. A haunted chant behind every breath.

Worse, I get anxiety about my anxiety--meta anxiety. What if those people who believe in "The Secret" are right, and you can bring positive things into your life by really believing it- then if I do miscarry, maybe I brought it onto myself, by chanting it into reality?

In an effort to feel better, I searched for an inspirational quote:

"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do." -Eleanor Roosevelt

How do I look fear in the face? How do I be courageous? Yes, I am pregnant again, and I do believe that "I can take the next thing that comes along"(Is there really much choice?)...but I'm wearing down.

And I'm certainly not courageous enough to fully accept the reality of this pregnancy- to believe in it or to be excited. And I'm definitely not telling anyone about it.**

I'm not courageous enough to be as vulnerable as the first loss, or even muster the bittersweet, tentative optimism of the second. I will not be blind-sided once again. I sleep with one eye opened, finger on the trigger. Oh you ill-willed fate! You thought you could surprise me! Thought you could just swipe the rug from under me again! Well, nice try fate, no such luck. I didn't even believe I was pregnant! I knew you were coming! I knew you'd take it away! I will not trust good fortune only to be made its cuckold again!

I'm the humbled serf to Queen Fate. I'm abundantly grateful if she gives me cake, but I dare not ask for it. I know my place.

These are the times when being religious is helpful. If I believed that Christ was my personal savior, he might be willing to help me out with this, but...I don't. So, I'd better not ask him for help. I feel very certain that if there is a god it would inappropriate and selfish to ask for help with my petty needs...surely he has better things to do. So I won't ask him either.

Buddha would tell me that the cause of my suffering is my desire to control the outcome of this situation. He's right, but I'm not interested in rationalism right now. I want comfort. I want paternal protection, I want a guarantee. I guess right now I'll look for comfort from another omniscient, omnipresent entity: the internet.

** postscript: clearly, publishing this on the internet is a way of 'telling people;' however, I didn't publish this post until several months later.

F-d Up Gameshow

Finding out that you are pregnant after a miscarriage (or two) is like finding out you are on the worst game show ever.

On this game show, the stakes are high and the rules are a mystery.

If you make it to the end, something really, incredibly awesome and life-changing is going to happen- but at any moment, for a reasons unbeknownst to you, you may be disqualified, and the floor will drop from under you like Veruca Salt.

But please don't stress too much, this is bad for the pregnancy. Also, you can't rely on any of your go-to stress management tools. Your doctor frowns upon running, you may over exert yourself.  No yoga- you could twist that baby right out! And go ahead and put down that refreshing beer, the only ale you'll unwind with has ginger in it.

Stay tuned, folks.