My Pregnancy and Why it's Not Normal (or Enjoyable)

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the past year of my life, and especially in this late stage of pregnancy, how different this is from the way I thought pregnancy would be. The two most important men in my life - dad and Harrison, have two sayings that they love repeating to me in an annoyingly consistent manner. "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans" and "You know what happens when you assume - you make an ass of you and me" respectively. Is it true that you marry your father? Maybe.

I am guilty of making (subconscious) plans, and assuming. Sue me. I always thought that I would be "good" at having kids. I've been the "mother" of my group of friends for my whole life. The responsible one with the big purse, the stain stick, keeping us on time, on track, and safe. I have birthing hips that have been pointed out my oblivious old men for as long as I can recall. If I had to live with this less than ideal body type, it seemed like there should be some upside to it - fertility maybe?

So, it was a shock when I had a really hard time getting pregnant the first time. Then, more surprise when my body just did not agree with my first pregnancy, and I felt like I was dying for four months. And it was completely devastating when we lost our first baby girl in a late miscarriage back in October. I am still mourning her loss, and just thinking about her sweet face makes me ache with a pain that I didn't know was possible before last year. Somewhere in that four months I became a mother, and would have done anything I could to save her, and in the end, I couldn't.

My first pregnancy was the start of a long process of giving up control of my body, my emotions, and my life. And when we were lucky enough to conceive again last December, we were excited, but knew that this pregnancy would be living in the shadow of our first loss. We found a therapist for me to talk to. We had a frank conversation (Harrison would tell you that I cry-yelled) with our OBGYN about how I wanted this handled differently (high risk, hands on, no ignoring me when I said something was wrong). And all of this has helped, though I can't help but feel a little isolated, a little alone, and a little cheated from having a "normal pregnancy."

Take this weekend as an example. I was supposed to go to a lovely baby shower tomorrow in Napa, then drive to Sacramento for my own on Sunday. I'm not a huge fan of baby showers, but considering that I've attended more than I can count, I was kind of hoping to have my own. Instead, we had to cancel our plans due to my bed rest. I'm trying not to dwell on it, but sitting here in dirty pajamas on the hottest day of the year, it's tough not to be a little bit bummed about my state of affairs. With six weeks (maybe) of pregnancy left, I realize how far off this experiences has been from my expectations.

• My Body: I always thought that I would eat well during my pregnancy. After all, the best diet for me should surely be the best diet for growing a baby. No processed foods, responsibly farmed meats, tons of veggies - simple! Well, I gained 25 pounds during my first pregnancy. Part of this was the fact that I started off in the best shape I've probably ever been in. I worked for 2 years with a trainer and had followed a pretty strict diet for over a year and a half. To put this in perspective, two weeks before I got pregnant for the first time, I ran a half marathon for fun. I didn't train AT ALL and finished easily. Who is that person? I was gravely sick during my first pregnancy, and I remember the reluctant discovery that eating simple carbs constantly was the only solution to the 24 hour nausea. I developed a huge aversion to proteins and vegetables - the staples of my diet for the past 2 years. I remember eating that first granola bar with massive feelings of guilt. I realized pretty quickly that I wasn't going to be able to exercise control over my diet anymore. Yes, I was put on zofran, and no, it didn't help. That's the same drug they give chemo patients for their nausea, just so you're aware. The terrible diet didn't stop after the pregnancy - then I was so depressed that I honestly didn't care to lose the weight.
• Fitness: I also thought that I would maintain as much of my physical capability as possible during pregnancy. Easier recovery, right? I was first put on pelvic rest during week 15 of my first pregnancy. I lost my baby at week 16. I was in recovery after my first birth for four weeks. I began running again after recovery, but could barely make it a mile. I worked back up to maybe 3 miles at a time. I found out I was pregnant on Christmas Eve 2013. I was put on pelvic rest due to bleeding at week 7 of my pregnancy - roughly mid January. This officially lasted until Week 24. We had three weeks of "normal" pregnancy, and then I was put back on pelvic rest at Week 27. Then bed rest at Week 32. To put it simply, I have had about 8 weeks of my life in the past 7 months where I've been allowed to exercise. Even until I was placed on bed rest, I negotiated walking-rights and was walking the dogs almost every day. But compared to my old regimen of 2-4 runs a week plus 1-2 sessions with my trainer, this was a huge step down. And now I'm not allowed to do anything. Exercise has always been my escape, my alone time, and my sanity. My number one coping mechanism. To have it taken away when there is plenty of coping to do - it's just not fair.
• My Social Life: I have, for the most part, kept my socializing to a minimum. Part of this was a desire to keep the pregnancy a secret. Another major reason is that I am just plain not very fun to be around. This started with my first loss, when I didn't want to spread my sadness around, and has continued into this pregnancy, when I don't know how to be happy or excited, like people expect me to be. I also don't know how to talk about any of this in a way that's not intense or overly emotional - so I just keep to myself. This all coincided with our move to the suburbs, and I feel like I have lost touch with a lot of close friends. I hope this changes after we get through this.
• Announcing the News: We never did. We were outed a few times by photos or leading comments on social media, but we never made a formal announcement. My modus operandi was to show up with a new belly and make people squirm for a few minutes. One of the best things about the first pregnancy was telling our friends and family, and it's just something that we didn't feel comfortable doing this time.
• Trusting my body, statistics, the doctors: I have heard women talk about how amazing it is to witness their body's capabilities. Without being dramatic or going into too much detail, this relationship with your body changes when you have seen and felt it go against your every wish and betray you. On top of that, every statistic that was once comforting (95% of pregnancies are safe after the first trimester!) becomes a slap in the face, because you were on the wrong side of those numbers. Our second trimester blood screen for genetic abnormalities came back with a high risk for a Neural Tube Defect. We received this result on a Friday afternoon. I spent that weekend knowing, just knowing, that my body had somehow given our baby a spinal defect. Never mind that the test is designed to capture a huge number of false positives - statistics mean nothing to me now. I didn't even consider that he might be okay until we got into the Level 2 ultrasound and saw a wonderfully formed spine.And finally, the doctors. I no longer take no for an answer. If I have a feeling about something, we're going to monitor it or test for it. I don't take "that's just part of pregnancy" as an answer anymore. 
• Excitement/bonding with the baby: After almost 12 months of being pregnant, I have a hard time reconciling this unpleasant process with any kind of a benefit it may bring. I don't particularly enjoy weekly pelvic exams, near constant anxiety, or general discomfort. I am still not convinced that we'll have a baby, and it's hard to remember why we wanted this in the first place. It's hard not to feel guilty. It's also hard not to wish that we could have our first baby. I know I'll love my son, but that doesn't change the loss I still feel over the daughter that we will never get to meet. It's not that I don't want this baby, it's that I want to have my other baby as well. When I see women who follow that straight path from positive pregnancy test to cute baby, with unbridled excitement and enthusiasm along the way, I can't help but be jealous.

It's hard to admit all of this to anyone other than my therapist, but it's the reality of my pregnancy. If you have felt that I'm distant or quiet recently - I hope this this explains why. It's been the hardest year of my life, and I just hope that it's worth it.