The First Time I Was Pregnant
I have been trying to get pregnant for over a year now, and I’m trying to feel grateful for the fact that in the last year I have been pregnant twice.
I was so excited to have a June baby. I was born in June, so maybe I’m biased. I also live in a country where we have all four seasons and to me, late spring seems to be the best time to have a baby. It was the end of September when we saw that first positive pregnancy test- it was faint, but it was there. Two long days later, we tested again, and there was no question of our eyes playing tricks on us-- it was there, I was pregnant.
I was so excited. I had my best friend since I was two-years-old moving home the next weekend and we had planned to surprise our very close group of girls with the news that she had moved home, for good. I was so excited to tell the girls about baby gemini coming in June 2019, and I knew, they would scream and yell and cry with excitement. These girls are my sisters, they are unlike any other relationship I have ever had. I had planned on telling them and only them. My husband was cautiously excited about me being pregnant, we both knew people that have had miscarriages and how awful that has been. I had myself convinced though; “it’s not going to happen to me. It didn’t happen to my sister or my mom, I will be fine”. And so I continued happily checking various versions of the bump app to see what kind of seed the baby was that day and what kind of foods to avoid. “Oh my goodness my baby fits on the end of a bobby pin! How cute!”
With all the information on the baby development apps also came a timeline. At 13 weeks is where most people announce their pregnancies. Perfect. 13 weeks= mid December, my husband’s birthday and a wonderful time of year to start sharing the news with all of our extended family over the holiday season. I planned to wear my favourite black turtleneck with a bow placed on my perfect baby bump for all the Christmas dinners. June is just the perfect time to have a baby! JUST SO PERFECT!
The next Friday night I had a lovely dinner out with my 4 year old niece, my parents and my husband. I was so proud of myself for not telling them during dinner. I starting having some cramping that night and a little bit of brown spotting. Not to worry through, because I wasn’t going to have a miscarriage. I am healthy. I eat kale. I don’t smoke. I am not a planner, even though this pregnancy was very much planned-- things just happen to work out for me. This will not happen to me. Just in case though, I scoured the internet for spotting and cramping in early pregnancy and had myself convinced that it was normal.
Saturday morning I woke up early from the pain. I went to the bathroom and found bright red blood. I started hyperventilating. I sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. I was broken. I woke up my husband to tell him and cried so hard that I was choking. I told one of my best friends that morning and she was on guard for me all day, we shifted plans so I wasn’t driving anymore and no one has suspected the surprise guest.
Two hours later, my husband drove me to pick up my friend whom I hadn’t seen in a year and all I wanted to do was cry and fall apart in her arms. I didn’t. I kept my sunglasses on, said hello to her family, gave her a quick hug and got back in the car. I have known her for 30 years.
Next, I proceeded with the now one and only grande reveal to, surprise the rest of the girls of the latest resident. The girls were so surprised and ecstatic. I wanted to cancel the whole day and spend it crying in bed. Instead, I went to a craft market, I bought all kinds of shit I did not need trying to make myself feel better. The girls had wine, I quietly declined and cried behind my sunglasses “I guess I could drink this now”.
My eyes were swollen, my throat was sore and my heart was broken.
The next day we had tickets for an NFL game with friends. The entire day I was so nauseous and felt so sick.
On Monday, I went to work and I haven’t worn that turtle neck since.