I feel like I’ve spent my entire life preparing for news worse than this.
Yeah, that sucks.
See, I have this condition.
Without getting into details, I’m considered high risk if we get pregnant.
At some point when I was younger (heh, I was 18) I decided that if I at some point found out that I couldn’t have kids that I would be ok with it. “It’ll be fine, we – me + _____ – can adopt!” I still feel that way. But this is not that.
It’s more like I have a (really?) high chance of miscarrying. And if I don’t miscarry, there is a good chance for early labor.
Did you know it’s cheaper to adopt a kid internationally than have a premie?! File that one under #funfacts.
Now what? Confession: I’m scared to even try to get pregnant. I’m a numbers girl. Give me 55-60% live birth rate and 15-25% preterm labor and my natural response is ALWAYS going to be, “Uhhh, pass the adoption papers please.”
Is that weird? I’m not brave enough at this point to get a positive pregnancy test just to go to the doctor and have them say “Yeah, the placement is bad. You’ll probably miscarry in 8-12 weeks or we can terminate the pregnancy for you.”
God, please no.
“Sweet, I just get to wait around for my baby to die inside of me.” See where I’m coming from with this? That doesn’t sound like fun!
One of the pastors at my church is married to a woman with a worse diagnosis than I have. She’s had close to 25 miscarriages and they have three kids.
Ok, I’m not even a fan of IVF. If my body wasn’t meant to carry a baby, it wasn’t meant to carry a baby. No biggie. But bad odds? I’d rather have no hope than bad odds. Because I can trust no hope. I can trust that it will never change. It won’t disappoint me later when things don’t work out because I knew better than to hope for them to work out in the first place. No hope is safe. No hope is comforting. No hope is worry-free. Can’t try to change it, so there’s no need to stress!
(Is this getting morbid? You can bail if you need. It’s mostly self-therapy at this point anyway.)
Anyway, my amazing husband is SUPER supportive. Which is AWESOME. If we don’t have kids, that will be ok. If we adopt that’s ok too. If I at some point work up the courage to try for kids of our own, I will be a freaking wreck. And you can ask my sisters: Tor being a freaking wreck is only short of nuclear fallout for things you don’t want to be around.
And you know what else is odd? My mom always told me how she hated talking about her health issues because she didn’t like listening to others discuss their own health issues. So there’s that. To top everything off? My mom will hate this post. I guess that’s life eh?
For clarification, deep down I am ok with this. With all of it. It’s just disconcerting. Disillusioning. But who wants to live life trusting in illusions? Disillusionment is good for us. At least that what I’m telling myself. :)