Wednesday, February 6, 2008

What we thought we knew based on what we have been told

What we were told:
Your a woman, a breeder. Your big b00bs and wide hips will serve you well. Go forth, have fun. You'll know. You'll glow.

What it is:
Bleeding is normal. Women just like you have successful pregnancies everyday. Well at least you know you can get pregnant. You can have another. It will happen when you least expect it.

I heard from a dear friend last night. She is 27 weeks pregnant after having an early loss the same time as my first loss. She and her partner did it DIY - at home insemination with a known donor. They are dear friends and will make wonderfully delicious parents. They ooze love, in the best way possible. Their journey has been difficult and unconventional. I am, I have been, pulling for them all along.

S.'s first trimester was tough. Lots of bleeding. Then, on two separate occasions they got bad news from a genetics councilor. Once, they were advised they had a 1 in 3 chance of downs. Everything turned out ok. Next, they were informed of a rare chromosomal issue, which S. now knows she carries. She has passed it to her son. He a few weeks behind in growth because her placenta has not developed properly. She was on her way to the doctor with a packed bag this morning, expecting to be admitted to the hospital and kept on strict bedrest.

Pregnancy is not at all what either S. or I thought it would be. I am so alarmed by this fairytale we have all been taught to believe. No one ever tells you you might get your heart broken. No one ever tells you that it is possible to fail. Even when you ultimately have a real, live baby, you may have just experienced one of the most physically and emotionally taxing 9 months of your life. And if you had trouble getting pregnant in the first place - you can double or triple that 9 months - in both physical and emotion pain.

I have learned to stop expecting. I don't envision I am walking into a hopeless cloud of doom, but I am cautious. I know now that I should be critical of my own expectations. That your body, your mind, your life, does not always cooperate. It is not that I expect to fail at getting pregnanct, or at bringing a pregnancy to term. Rather, I enter the process again with hope, but also with a distinct set of experiences that I have prepare me for whatever my jacked up body decides to do next. In the end, I hope that by knowing my Ute might misbehave, perhaps it will do as it should - grow, support and nourish. Now THAT would be unexpected.

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