I have no idea if this pregnancy is okay or not.
I know you're thinking that we've already established that. Low beta. Repeat on Monday. We'll know more then.
But see, the thing is.. I'm EMBARRASSED that I don't "know." I'm SUPPOSED to "know." I'm a woman. I'm in tune with my body. I can tell you when I'm ovulating without thermometers. Hell, I'm more reliable than those damned OPKs. Let's not forget about all the stories of women who "just knew" the moment they were pregnant. Even on a miscarriage board I'm part of, there was a post recently inquiring who "just knew" something was wrong. I'm intuitive. I'm supposed to "know."
I know it's not entirely rational. No one knows if the baby is okay except for God. Not my husband, not the doctor, not the pyschic tarot card reader down the street. But there's a growing life INSIDE OF ME. And I don't know.
Last pregnancy I was worried almost immediately. I went from positive pregnancy test to jumping up and down in 5 minutes. Ten minutes later I was on the couch sitting in complete silence thinking Oh shit. Now what? And it only got worse from there. Was this because I "knew" something was wrong? Or because I worry about every.fucking.thing? Didn't matter. I was right. I'd have loved to be wrong, but there was a little part of me that thought well, I knew that. Because, you know, I'm an intuitive woman who "just knows" things.
So when I didn't instantly feel sick with worry upon seeing my positive pee sticks I felt good. I'm not scared like I was last time. That means things are better. I feel good. I "know" things are good.
And I still feel that way. About twice an hour for 15 minutes. The other 30 minutes, I'm convinced it's gone. One minute my boobs hurt. The next they don't. Did I just gag? No. I feel fine. Gosh I'm tired. Well, I haven't slept in a week. But I still don't feel sick with worry. Even during the half hour that I'm convinced it's over. I don't feel like I "just know" something is wrong.
I don't think it helps that I keep hearing my mother in law's words in my head.
The conversation went a little like this:
Me: ... you future grandchild (long convuluted way in which we got to "we're pregnant.")
MIL: Are you serious?
Me: *giggle* Yep. Just found out a half hour ago.
MIL: *long pause* Well, are you to the point.. where.. you know...... that that baby is...okay...
Me: *shocked* *looks at David hoping he has a response to this- no luck* No. There's really no way to know that.
MIL: Well, yeah, I know, but how do you feel?
Me: I feel fine.
MIL: Do your boobs hurt?
Me: Yeah, a little, but overall, I feel fine..
MIL: No cramping or pain or anything?
Me: No. I feel fine.
MIL: Well, YAY, I'm so excited!
So you see, EVERYONE thinks I should "know." (And it's all about the boob pain.)
Of course, my MIL comes from a time when you didn't know you were pregnant for a good long time. You had to miss 2 periods and kill a rabbit for confirmation. She remembers both her pregnancies being all about breast pain. For all I know, she was 8 weeks pregnant when she was feeling all the achy boobiness. Things were different then. She didn't know the joys of stick-peeing & line analyzing. Or betas & doubling times.
She comes from a different generation. But "just knowing" isn't exclusive to her. Last pregnancy I saw a pyschic after my first bad ultrasound. I was told I'd get good news in 3 days. And you know what? I did. Three days later, we had a heartbeat. A week after that, it was gone. Funny, she didn't "know" that part. Of course, she also told me she saw three pregnancies. So far, she's 2/3 right.
I try to make it my policy that when things shame me, I share them. Secrets are poison. They're almost never as scary as you think they are. When you say them outloud, they lose power. The world doesn't end, and you realize that it wasn't as bad as you feared.
So I'm saying it.
I'm not intuitive. I'm not psychic. I am a woman who doesn't "just know." I have no idea if this baby is okay.