I am physically hurting, emotionally crippled, scared, scornful at myself and others, disappointed, resentful, wistful, and frustrated
And many other things
I had been counting down the days until the Belgium/Paris trip next month, through the thick haze of constant pregnancy nausea and dizziness so intense I haven't even registered the frequent short earthquakes that'd been occurring sporadically for the last three weeks. My class of students clued me in during one session; I thought they were joking.
Now, no more Belgium and the forests there that I love to run through. No more Paris and attending a friend's wedding there. No more trip to Israel later to attend another friend's wedding there either, or do a swim-across-the-Kinneret event with another friend as planned.
Instead bed rest, immobility as much as possible, with continued nausea and dizziness as they bump up my progesterone levels through injections and pills. Waiting and seeing whether the person growing in me will live or be expelled. Others praying for the baby's placenta, which has so far ripped from its anchoring in my reproductive organ by 30-50%, to stay intact, maybe heal. I have to be honest: personally, I would not mind that much if I have a miscarriage. There, I said it. I am that sick of being sick. But I can't even have a normal miscarriage if I can't have a normal pregnancy. Instead, I am offered inane accounts of other people's straightforward miscarriage experiences, or I-feel-ya sympathies comparing their 38+ week difficulties or minor pregnancy issues with my current situation. This is not the Woe-is-me competition, but honestly you have no f*cking idea what I'm going through right now. A few people get it; a friend in Israel who wrote and shared about her own truly difficult pregnancy circumstances, a local mom who didn't ask periodically like everyone else "Are you better yet?", a friend in Utah who reassured me about premie support and dates of viability. They didn't laugh as someone did when I started crying while sharing about the first day of heavy bleeding. Yes, laughed. I feel bad for this future therapist's patients.
Thank God substitutes were found within the week to take over the rest of the term for my three classes. I wish I could have finished things out. I still need to do all the grading and the lesson planning, with the bonus now of needing to write out a report so someone else can deliver my plans in class and get paid my salary. The money is whatever; I just hope the students don't miss me at all (which also means I'm pretty dispensable) or feel cheated out of a decent course (ugh).
Now I need to lie back down.
