I thought I was pregnant last month. I had all the symptoms: nausea, vomiting, headaches, frequent urination, etc. Setting aside my reservations, my excitement started mounting. How could it not? Sickness is a good thing, for me, in determining a viable pregnancy. I felt the phrase “the third time is the charm” might apply this time.
Except it didn’t. Because I started my period a couple weeks later–right on time. (And, to confirm this, I also took a couple pregnancy tests.) With the nausea, vomiting, and all the other lovely things that now accompany me constantly. You know, without a pregnancy.
To say I was angry is an understatement. Ben and I thought for sure all my symptoms meant the one thing we really want–another baby. Instead I was greeted with the mother of all cramps and her crimson venom. Once the bleeding started, I texted Ben telling him that I did not want to have any more kids. I was done with pregnancies, done with fertility stuff, done with everything. He called me on his lunch break and let me talk. And cry. Because I cried a lot.
When he came home that night, he held me. He let me vent without saying one contradictory word. He let me rage against my body, my period, and against God.
(Have I mentioned I married the perfect guy for me?)
Andrew is learning to climb on and off furniture. As I have taught him many times that the safest, and most effective, way for him to climb down is feet first, I must now let him learn the painful lesson of not following my guidance.
When he starts crawling off head first, I tell Ben, “Let him go, he needs to learn by falling on his head.” Which he has, slowly. It can be hard to watch him fall, but I know it is the only way he will learn.
Right now, God is letting me fall on my head. I don’t know what I am supposed to learn through this process, but I do know it is mighty painful.
This recent period was a frightful reminder of my miscarriages. (Two! In the same year!.) It brought me to the lowest depths of depression I’ve been in since I can’t remember. Along with the sadness, I embraced bitterness. A bitter person is not good company, as Ben has unfortunately experienced. I’m not proud of the person I’ve been over the past couple weeks, a big reason this space has remained unoccupied, however I understand, and Ben understands, the complicated emotions that assailed me over something that I’ve had once a month (besides pregnancy) since I was 14.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I have had some recent revelations that have forced me to evaluate many parts of who I am and who I want to become. While I don’t intend to be vague, I am still figuring out the different pieces and at the moment cannot adequately articulate what they mean. But, if you’ll be patient with me, I feel ready to write about them one at a time.
Yeah, I guess that means I’m back.
***Image via FreeImages.