It's so easy to lie to myself about "how I'm doing" with this pregnancy. I'm less stressed and anxious than I was with Keira. That's not to say I'm NOT stressed, just less in comparison. As I've written before, I was sure she was going to die. Absolutely, undoubtedly sure she wasn't coming home with us. That realization was cemented when she did come home and I freaking lost it. I realized that all the "preparation" I had done was because I felt like I should, not because I actually expected her to come home. I didn't get her anything personalized except a blanket that matched Tyler's because I knew that if she died, I'd still use it. I just can't let that barrier down. I remember how stupid and embarrassed I felt when we got Tyler's diagnosis because I innocently thought he was coming home. I had no reason to think otherwise. I remember specifically saying (probably more than once) that "I'm young and healthy...everything will be fine!" Ugh, how STUPID! It's like my ignorance prevented my brain from thinking past Down Syndrome. What I'd give if Tyler had only had Down's...
These insecurities, anxiety and stress all came to a head in my marriage this week. In a very ugly way. Long story-short, I was very frustrated that we were out of at least one ingredient every night for dinner Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Jim finished the last of each said ingredient so, naturally, my frustration was all his fault. I woke up with a nasty cold on Monday after dealing with Keira's fever and cold all last week so I felt awful and didn't want to leave the house, I had JUST gone grocery shopping on Saturday and spent way more than I wanted to (that's not hard to do, I'm a cheap-ass), it was the third day in a row that I was missing an ingredient for dinner that I was making for HIM... Yes, I had a legitimate reason to be frustrated, but I did not have a legitimate reason to bite his head off on the phone when he called to let me know he was on his way home from work. I haven't cried in a LONG time. I'm an emotional person, so whenever we have heart-to-heart talks, I ALWAYS cry. It's annoying, BUT the fact that I haven't cried in so long tells me two things. 1) We haven't connected with a heart-to-heart in too long and 2) I obviously have a lot bottled up. Over freaking taco shells and cottage cheese, I started bawling on the phone. Not crying. Bawling. Hysterically. Like can't-catch-my-breath-to-talk hysterically bawling. The sad thing is that I didn't even realize what had happened. I was so caught up in giving him an earful about how crappy I felt, how frustrated I was, how disrespected I felt, that I didn't even stop to think about the big picture. I could have just as easily sent him a text that said, "Will you start writing down or telling me when we run out of stuff from now on? That would help a lot." I would have gotten my point across in a respectful way without coming off like a hormonal, crazy biotch. No joke, we just started talking again this morning, Saturday, and this happened Wednesday evening. As Keira and I were eating breakfast, Jim asked if we were going to keep fighting all weekend (we always say this to each other when we are arguing about something, it's our informal/non-confrontational way of being confrontational). I told him we weren't fighting and to let it go, which I knew he wouldn't. He said, "I'm going to go work on the closet in the basement, but I want to say one thing before I do." Me, being the ass that I am, rolled my eyes and prepared for a "speech". And here is what he said, "Just listen to me. You did this same thing when you were pregnant with Keira. Right before the anatomy scan, you picked a fight with me to put a wedge between us so that you didn't have to admit that you were worried and scared. I don't know why you feel like you can't share that with me, but I'm there with you. I'm scared of having the world turn upside down on us again, too. I tried to talk to you about it then and you told me you didn't want to talk about it, so I dropped it. The same thing has happened every time I've tried to talk to you about this pregnancy, too, and I've dropped it each time, haven't I?" I couldn't even talk as the tears streamed down my face. The sad thing is, I had been lying to myself so much that I didn't even know that that's why I was such a stressed-out wreck. I mean, I had a legitimate reason to be overwhelmed with Keira being sick, then me being sick, my unrelenting pregnancy headaches (which could be triggered by any of 100 different things)...right? Let's be honest, the headaches were probably induced by the stress mixed with congestion from the cold. But those things wouldn't have mattered if the anatomy scan wasn't on Monday.
Seriously, this shit never goes away. This is my second anatomy scan after a fatal diagnosis and I still can't calm down enough to open up to my husband about my anxiety. We have been doing GREAT since I got pregnant (which is saying a lot since I had to stop taking an anti-depressant to get pregnant and we hated each other during my pregnancy with Keira...this is amazing!) so this whole argument was weird. The only other time was when his parents were visiting but really, having house guests for almost a week and having your husband home after being accustomed to only seeing him 2-3 hours/day, isn't exactly a recipe for rainbows and puppies. We're both praying and hoping that this is the last time we have to go through this. I'm trying to enjoy it, I really am, because I know that I'll miss being pregnant when we are officially done and I see other women with big, beautiful bellies. There is just so much about pregnancy and having a newborn that terrifies me, I don't want to do this again. As long as pregnancy is on the table, it feels like I'm in a constant battle. Like I'm trying to get somewhere which, I can only assume, is out of the "baby-making years". It's hard to accept that my "normal" isn't everyone else's "normal". It's not as simple as "I love being pregnant" or "I hate being pregnant" or "our family is complete, so we're done". Mine will never be complete and I have a love/hate relationship with pregnancy. Hopefully, the anatomy scan and healthy baby will give me the closure I need to truly feel done with this stage of our lives. I hate asking, but I'd appreciate all the thoughts and prayers you can spare for our anatomy scan on Monday. Not necessarily for the baby's health since that's already determined, but for our acceptance (with grace) of whatever that ultrasound reveals-good or bad-and that the result are definitive.