I've spoken before about how superstitious this whole process of infertility has made me (sorry, it's late on a Friday evening and I can't face looking up links right now!). How I look for signs, how I panic about saying or doing the 'wrong' thing - usually something that might be perceived as hubristic. Well, now I'm convinced that the universe WANTS me to be this perverse. The spotting has decreased every day since Sunday, and I've not seen red again since Monday morning. I've been telling myself each day, it's normal, don't worry. But then yesterday, after a very vague smear, hardly worth being called a spot, appeared first thing, there was nothing all day, even after a little digging. I started to feel good. Yes, I thought, there might actually be a baby at the end of this.
Guess what happened when I got home? Yes, I went to the loo, and there was a big browny piece of gunk on the loo paper. It's those damn Fates, they are out to get me. I immediately freaked out again, and had to be calmed down by H, who is actually starting to find this quite amusing. Every spotting incident makes me less optimistic. I know that's nonsense, but it's just the way it is. Today, I probably speak too soon, there has been nothing. I keep thinking I'm bleeding, and I run to the bathroom, and then there's nothing there.
I don't see how anyone who has been part of this community DOES feel confident at this point. I just relax briefly and think how cool it will be to be about to give birth when I celebrate my 40th birthday, and then I freak out, thinking about the great beta numbers and good 6 week ultrasound that akeeyu had. How can one retain any faith in a just universe after that? Not to mention all the other horror stories I've read - Manuela's miscarriage at 13 weeks, LEB's at a similar point, all of Lola's, Pixi's...it's very hard to forget it now that I know it!
Don't get me wrong, part of me is very, very happy. Then I remember in how many messed-up ways it can go wrong and I feel scared. Then I think about being pregnant for the FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE and I feel happy again. Not optimistic, but happy. Then I let my dreams run away with me and I start to feel crampy and I freak out, then I remember what Liana said about how she wished she'd enjoyed being pregnant with zappy when she had the chance, and I resolve to do better...you get the picture. I'm sure this is nothing new to you old hands. And I'm coping ok. I'm tired, and I wish I could bleep right through to 30 weeks or something so I could stop the worrying, but I'm ok. When I need to, those are the times I let myself pee on a stick again, so I can see the line and wonder at the novelty of that being true for me and H, for now. And then H laughs at me for being ridiculous, but I don't mind.
Thank you, thank you. You are all part of this, for me.