At first I didn’t even know if I wanted to be pregnant. I had just had my first child a few months ago and while I did want more children, I just wasn’t sure I wanted another one that soon. So I had to make myself excited. Once I did, it was kind of fun. The two would be very close in age and could play together. I was dealing with being nauseous, having weird cravings, and all the other wonderful pregnant things. Since we’re Jewish, there’s a strong tradition of not telling until you’re 3 months pregnant, but we were discussing whether or not to tell certain family members earlier, and to be honest I show early anyway.
Then I had a sharp pain in my stomach. I knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything, but I had to call anyway. Since I wasn’t that far along there wasn’t too much to do but wait and see what happened. If it continued, it could mean that it was ectoptic, but at that moment it was too small to see with an ultrasound and I should check back with them in a few days. Shortly after that, I had severe cramping and bleeding. At that point, I pretty much knew what was happening but I had to call again. They wanted me to come in. All they did was tell me what I already knew was happening, give me some painkillers and tell me, “at least you know that you can have a normal pregnancy,” and “at least it was early.” While those statements were true, all it told me was that my pain meant nothing. Perhaps I shouldn’t feel as bad in comparison to those who miscarry without a child, but at that moment, I didn’t care.
I felt more numb than anything else. I wanted everyone to leave me alone. Who was I supposed to talk to? How do you tell someone about a baby that doesn’t exist and a pregnancy that didn’t even really start? I have two good friends that I would normally talk to. I didn’t even get a chance to tell them I was pregnant. One of them took years to get pregnant. The other has been trying for a few years. I, on the other hand, get pregnant within the first three months of marriage, and then again four months after giving birth.
I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be pregnant at first and now I get to be depressed about it? Now I have little reminders everywhere. The food I bought that I was craving that I’m not anymore. The emails I get from this online calendar that tracks my cycle. While my son is cute and adorable, right now he reminds me of this baby that no one knows about, and it’s unfair. I shouldn’t be sad when I look at my son. I should be enjoying him, not thinking of this baby that isn’t even here.