Again

Baby in the Park
I am two days late and the owner of two urine covered sticks, with two very faint lines. If I am still pregnant tomorrow those lines should be getting stronger. Being pregnant, I now understand, does not mean always that you are going to have a baby.

As a woman who is in her 30’s whose has already had a miscarriage, I am at a higher risk for having another. I am happy. I am pregnant again. But I am scared. So scared of loss that I almost want to stop trying.

This is not a good way to live. It is not a good way to parent. Although I cannot yet speak from experience, I am coming to believe that faith in the face of fear may be a mother’s truest job.

The first time I shared the news of my pregnancy because I was so happy I could not contain it. I did not believe miscarriage could happen to me. I felt settled. I felt calm. I was going to have a child. That was all in my head.

After the loss, I told myself that the next time I was late I would not test. I would wait, and wait, until the risks of miscarriage were lower.
The idea was to protect myself. Not to stress. My doctor concurred. You are relatively young. May women have miscarriages they never know about. There is nothing to worry about until three losses have occurred.

But.

But. What if something is wrong? What if something needs to be done? We’ve been trying for over a year. What if I’ve already had a handful of unknown miscarriages before… So I tested. And then again. Two tests. Two faint pink lines. If the embryo was attaching, the line should have gotten stronger.
I decided to call my doctor.
Whether or not I’m pregnant, I thought, I will think and wonder and worry that something is wrong.

Little Girl in the park
The same will be true with my child, whenever and however, he or she arrives. At 6 weeks and 12 weeks, at 20 and 37 and 42; at 4 months, 4 years, 14, and 40—it is out of my control.

I will never know for sure if they are safe. I can ask about their lives, their world, their work, their loves and hates. Maybe they will be happy. Maybe not. Maybe they will tell me. Maybe they won’t.
There is little I can do but love them, either way.

I can hurt about that forever.
Or I can let it go and keep trying.
Pain is married to the possibility of happiness.
I am pregnant today.

And today I’m not.