Saturday, September 7, 2013

I Couldn't Stop

As a foreword, my apologies for the woe-is-me tearful nature of this post. It's been a rough morning. 

I cried today. I started crying and I physically could not stop. It felt like every bit if sadness and anger I had been pushing aside for the past few days? weeks? months? came spilling out. The dam broke and there was no stopping it.

It started with a scolding from my dad. Yes, I'm 31 and I still get scolded by my dad. It's a old school European parent thing - menial actions of your adult children can still hold great disappointment. He felt I did something careless, I apologized, and then he wouldn't drop it. Poor guy, he had no clue what was coming. I felt the tears welling up, slowly walked upstairs while my toast was burning, and then sobbed and sobbed. I cried over my frustration with my dad, for feeling like a kid. When I thought that issue had been sufficiently cried out, I waited for the tears and snotty gasps to stop but they didn't. They kept on coming. I blame it on the hormones and the intense emotional weight I've been dragging around for the past 5 and a half weeks. I keep saying I'm happy. Does happy feel like this? Like constant trepidation? I've certainly had some really happy moments related to this pregnancy but most have been tempered by suffocating fear. We don't call this kid anything. I am so horribly afraid of having another baby die inside of me that I can't bear to attach too much. I can't think about gender or names. I am so scared there won't be a heartbeat each time I go in for an ultrasound. All I can focus on with some relief and optimism is April. My due date is in mid April. I might get a baby then. Honestly, I think I will. For whatever reason - a mix of good ultrasounds, juju, and the positivity of those in the blogging world and IRL - I feel like this one will stick. But I can't shake the weight of two years of infertility and an early miscarriage. It's not fair. Every time I get comfortable it's like a whining mosquito says, "Bad things happen to you, Amy." With the exception of my fertility issues, it really isn't true. I've been lucky, blessed. 

I'm just so tired, physically and mentally. I'm ready for the fear and self doubt to melt away. And I can't handle another tear-snot episode like this one. So please, world, tread very carefully. I am apparently quite fragile. 


  1. I'm so sorry you're feeling this way and while it totally sucks, it's also totally normal. Infertility has a way of ruining your outlook on things - even when everything else in life seems to feel normal and blessed. Try to keep the faith and remember that your gut is telling you this is a good one. You're getting close to the end of the first trimester and hopefully once that milestone hits, you'll start to feel a little more relaxed and this will feel a little more real. Believe good things will happen to you baby-wise and have faith. You're almost there - hang in there!

  2. Sometimes it's so therapeutic to just cry... and cry and cry and cry. I bet you feel a million times better tomorrow (I always do).

  3. Girl, I love to cry. I don't do it often, but when I need it, I do not hold back. And I'm always rewarded by endorphins. And, along with those, a little bit of relief. If you are anything like me, the next few weeks will fly by. And then you'll be on knocking on the door of the second trimester, and the little bit of relief it may provide. (At least, this is what I'm hoping for in 1-2 weeks.) Just know I'm right there with ya, friend.