the one about when it’s complicated

I’m sorry. If I sound a little bitter, it could be because my cervix is still being a little shit and is now HALF a centimeter long, AND I found out that I failed my one-hour glucose test (which I passed in my prior two pregnancies) so I now have another date with the nasty diabeetus drink and a three-hour stay in the hospital lab’s waiting room. The joy. 

You know how on Facebook, you can change your Relationship Status to say, “It’s Complicated?”

Maybe ol’ Mark Zuckerberg could add a line to say Pregnancy Status, and you could choose from a few options:

It’s Awesome

It Sucks, but I’m Just a Whiner

It’s Complicated

I just want to tell everyone who asks me how I am doing, how I am feeling, when I am due, how far along I am, etc, etc, etc…It’s Complicated.

And believe me, I know that “complicated” doesn’t mean horrible. I know that it could be worse…it could always be worse. I know that “complicated” doesn’t mean the end of the world. I know that I have to take things one day at a time, but ifIhearIhavetotakethingsonedayatatimeagainIwillscreambecausedon’twealreadyknowthatdaysonlycomeoneatatimeanyway?

What complicated does mean is that I don’t have a straight-forward answer for how I am feeling. I am all the feels. In the span of 15 minutes, I feel fine, stressed, frustrated, sad, peaceful, hopeful, and pissed off. But I am sure you don’t want to hear about all that, so I will just tell you it’s complicated.

Complicated means fighting every possible urge to be jealous of every seemingly smooth and flawless pregnancy you see in your News Feed. I have almost quit on Facebook 3,472 times over the past 10 days, but then I realized I wouldn’t have anything to keep me company during the day whilst on the bed  of rest. For real life friends that I actually care about, I’m certainly happy your pregnancies are going well, but I can’t help but be sad and do the whole Nancy Kerrigan “WHY me? WHY?” thing. Repeatedly.

Speaking of that, complicated is lonely. And the worst part is that people are actually trying to help me and going out of their way to let me know I am not alone, but the days feel empty and hollow and lonely anyway. It’s difficult to explain and thus, complicated. When you are the person who thrives on the socialization that even especially Target provides, being stuck inside your house for an entire day feels extremely isolating and torturous.

Complicated is the excitement of bringing a new baby into the world mixed with the fear of having her too early. I have been dragging my feet on getting anything ready because it feels like that would be encouraging her to come early.

Complicated is the desire for more children but realizing that the risk of getting pregnant again and chancing this same scenario feels selfish and dangerous. It is hard not to jump to that conclusion at this point, but I would never knowingly put another unborn child at risk of being born prematurely, nor would I want to cause such an inconvenience for my family if I were to become sidelined again. It’s a lot to think about, and, unfortunately, I have a lot of time to think.

Believe me, I know I have complained more in the above paragraphs than a man with the sniffles, which makes me want to punch myself (which is also complicated). So the one thing I will say that has been a positive of this entire situation is I am in awe of the generosity and sweetness of our friends and family. From watching our children to bringing us meals to just listening quietly while I leak verbal diarrhea by the cup-full…we truly have a great support system.

But at the end of the day, this pregnancy is still complicated. My feelings are complicated.

And my cervix is an asshole…which is really, really complicated.

One Comment

  • Carina Hatfield

    I read this after a friend commented on it. Wow. You just took me back to not so long ago. When the doctors couldn't tell me what, why, or the outcome just that it was bad. 17 to 31 weeks. 98 days. 98 sad, angry, scared, mad, and lonely days. Even when people are with you, you feel alone in your fight for this little person inside you. In the end, we were lucky. We exceeded the doctors expectations to 31 weeks. After all, they didn't think we would make it to 24. I guess they too felt it was complicated. I am sorry. You can do this. Oh wait. You have to. So complain all you need.

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