I wrote this over on Babble, because I wanted to. I didn’t want to rehash it here again, or write it twice, so it’s there. Maybe for an audience of women who don’t know that someone else feels the same way as them. I’ve been terrified to write it, quite honestly some of the comments/emails I’ve gotten lately have put a damper on me wanting to share the other (not so lovely) side of this pregnancy. But I wrote it anyway because it needed to be said. I’d love if you’d go over and read, but understand if you don’t.
It’s mostly at night. The nightmares that come with a pregnancy after loss haunt me unexpectedly, at random times. I’ll wake, gasping for air, still partially caught in the unconscious of sleep.
Perhaps the dream is of my water breaking. So I’ll lay very still, convinced if I don’t move, it won’t happen. Had I not gone back to the bathroom when I lost my twins, maybe I wouldn’t have lost them. I could have just held it in. As irrational as that is (and I know it) in the dark of the night it seems completely sane. So I don’t dare move. No matter how bad I have to pee, the terror of going through a loss all over again paralyzes me.
Until I finally am able to wake fully, and firmly tell myself that, water breaking or not, I’m going to have to get up at some point. I make myself throw my weight off the bed in an effort to shake the fear. Push it away. If it happens, I tell myself, it happens. Get over it.