An Infertile Pregnancy

I have penned the draft of this blog a million and one times in my head, and each time I am faced with the competing dilemmas of the fact that there is simply too much to say and that I am not quite clear on where to go with this blog at the moment. I have always felt that 'if' I ever did get pregnant again, I would create a separate pregnancy blog. But I would never be naive enough to feel that at 9 weeks this one is for sure, so just as I'm not leaping out my front door buying onesies and strollers yet, I'm certainly not going to devote an entire separate blog to something that could still potentially be more of a memorial. I know, ever the positive Patsy. That's the infertile in me, folks. You see, yes I may be pregnant, but that's not where the story of infertility ends for me.

In fact, the farther I progress into this pregnancy, the more I envy those to which it came easily. I wonder, does their heart pump uncontrollably the second before they look at every piece of toilet paper inspecting it for blood? Do they question whether every twinge will begin a process that ends in another dead baby? Do they look at events several months in the future and feel the need to preface it, "If I'm still pregnant"? I wonder, do they sit in the OB's office awaiting their appointment, in half panic, with the memory of what a practitioner's face looks like when they discover your child has died seared into their memory and praying that they'll never see it again?

Or do they only imagine what their child will look like? How they'll decorate the nursery? What sex they'll be? What they'll name them? I won't lie and say that as the ultrasounds pass by one-by-one, these things have not flittered through my mind, but I wonder what it would be like to have these thoughts dominate. I know of someone who will be in a wedding in September with me. While she is not yet pregnant, she has announced she is trying and is so confident in her future pregnancy that she is already making plans to have a maternity bridesmaid's dress. As of now, I am pregnant and yet, I have requested to postpone any dress plans until at least June. How I wish I had the same blind confidence.

This is not to say that those who conceived easily do not have any of these worries, but coming from a place where for years nothing went right, I believe it's harder to imagine that they ever will. I'm getting there, though. Bit-by-bit, but I'm afraid to let go. It's like if I believe too readily, than perhaps this in and of itself will result in heartache. Oh, what a number infertility has played on my mind. For all of the things it has given, it does still remind me that it is something never to be ignored. It will always be there, threatening to take even the small victories. I hope that some day, I will finally be able to just 'be'. One step at a time, I guess.