Before I got pregnant, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t become one of those ALI bloggers that disappears from the blogosphere once she is knocked up.
I swore I would update often, and keep the spirit of this blog alive. I swore I would continue to comment on everyone else’s blogs. That I would be present.
Little did I know.
I get it now. I understand why they disappear. For the same reason I haven’t really been present here for a while. It’s time I just come to terms with it.
The ALI community is a double-edged sword. We band together for support, and in the worst of times, we are there for each other.
But that’s the problem as well. We are here in the worst of times.
Before I came here I was alone. More alone than I had ever felt in my life.
I found friends here. Women who understood me better than I understood myself.
The problem is that in this space I became part of a screaming minority. We are the women on the bad end of the statistics. We are the worst-case scenarios. We are the 30% of miscarriages. The 5% of post-D&C infections that mess up our systems. The ectopics. The stillbirths. The preemies. The genetic anomalies. The placental abruptions. The incompetent cervixes. We are the embodiment of every horror story. Our collective pain and loss are endless.
I’ve gotten a couple of emails in the last few weeks asking me why I barely blog any more. The truth is that it’s because I just don’t know what to say. I’m between a rock and a hard place.
On one hand, I am unendingly lucky. Tomorrow, I will officially be at the halfway point of this pregnancy. Shmaby is moving around, making himself more known to me every day. I am eternally grateful for that. I even feel guilty for having it. I know there are thousands of women out there who would kill to be in my shoes.
On the other hand, I am a part of this community. I am a woman who’s body has failed her too many times to count. I don’t trust my body any more. I don’t trust it to keep my baby safe until he is ready to come into this world. That won’t change until I get proven wrong.
I haven’t been writing, but I’ve been following along with everyone. I’ve been feeling too guilty to comment on the blogs of women still going through the torture of IF and RPL. And I’ve been fueling my anxiety by reading continuously about the pain and loss that keeps on happening in our little universe.
Today I finally broke down and confessed to Shmerson that I am not doing as well as I have been pretending to do. I am, more or less, where I was before my first breakdown a year ago. I spend my days emotionally detached. Willing myself to just make it through one more day. Sleeping as much as I can so the time passes by faster. Keeping away from the people and the things I love.
Because if I stop and look around, the fear gets to be too much. I imagine the worst case scenarios, because I know them so well. I imagine them and know I wouldn’t have the strength to deal with another setback. That if something goes wrong I would march into a hospital and demand to be put in a coma. I am tired. I am worn out. I am scared. I hate myself for it.
Every day I feel Him move I love him more. I worry for him more. And living inside the worst-case scenarios that are part of this community is fueling the fire.
I go into BL blogs and read the stories. I find myself obsessively checking for symptoms of early labor, holding my breath in the hopes that nothing goes wrong. That my body decides not to fail me for a change.
I hate myself for doing it. I hate myself for not being able to just be there for those who are suffering loss, and at the same time rejoice in the fact that my baby is here. Healthy, and growing, and kicking up a storm.
I spend my days fueling the anxiety fire more and more.
Today Shmerson kindly requested that I stop doing that.
I think I need a break.
I feel terrible. How dare I take a break from this community when you guys have been there for me at the worst of times? It’s my responsibility to stick it out for you.
But I also need to take care of myself. I need to stop living in this constant fear loop.
It’s not like I’m being particularly insightful or engaging anyway as of late, so I figure I won’t be missed much if I disappear for a few weeks.
And I think I need it for my sanity.
So – I’m sorry. I love you guys, but I’m giving myself a breather. I’ll be back here at our 24 week anatomy scan. Hopefully viability will calm my nerves enough for me to be present again.
Hopefully there is no reason for me to be back here sooner.
I love you all. I’m still here if you need me via email. I just need to reboot my sanity. I hope you forgive me and come back when I return.
And I hope to see a crapload of healthy pregnancies when I get back.
See you then.