This post was written on December 29th, 2007, four days after my most recent positive pregnancy test. (See previous entry for Time Capsule #1)
I haven't told many people in my life about this pregnancy. "It's too precarious," I said to J~. "I'm not telling anyone with whom I wouldn't want to discuss another miscarriage. I don't want to have to manage everybody's feelings about it."
But then again, I also had the urge to blurt the news all over the place. I wanted to do happy dances with everyone who would be excited for me. I wanted to buy herbal "Pregnancy Tea" at the food co-op and exchange knowing smiles with the cashier. I wanted to whisper the news into my mother's ear the day after Christmas, when she stood beside me in the kitchen, in full view of the rest of our family. Most of all, I wanted to have that trust that so many women get to have, that a positive pregnancy test means (all smiles) "We're going to have a baby!"
But I don't get to have that kind of blind optimism. And so, of course, I restrained myself.
I did tell four people. Now it feels like four too many.
Three days ago there was a twinge of nausea. Two days ago, a smidge of a twinge. And yesterday, just the barest hint of a smidge of a twinge.
This morning I am spotting.
I know, I know, many of you would rush to encourage me not to read too much into any of these early signs. But I've been through this before, and I trust my gut, which tells me: no dice.
Yes, sure, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'll be spared the distracting maternal fantasies while I slave away at my remaining graduate school applications. Maybe I'll emerge from the very busy month ahead bleary-eyed, blinking against the bright light of day, and still full-tilt pregnant.
Then again, maybe not. (Probably not?)
In conclusion, for now: if I'm going to lose this pregnancy, hopefully it will all be over soon.