"A little bit pregnant"

    I was reading a friend's blog post the other day about comparisons, and it really resonated with me, especially this quote she included:

     The first thought that came to my mind: "True!"   The second thought:  "My blog is definitely my highlight reel."   From trips to recipes, inside jokes to fun projects, I keep this blog mainly as a cheesy scrapbook to things that make me happy.  I love scrolling back to look at, say, Dan's hysterical-to-himself posed pictures or re-read about our family's surprise Christmas.  That doesn't make my blog phony or embellished or untrue.   It simply focuses on my highlight reel.        

      I guess this post is about the more murky "behind the scenes".

     Lately, I've been thinking that there are few black and white things in life, but pregnancy is supposed to be one of them:  you either are, or you are not.   Like the saying goes, you can't be a little bit pregnant.

     I am not.  Just wanted to clarify that before going any further.

       Of course, you all are reasonable people who believe me the first time I say it, unlike a bold colleague the other day.  She came up to me during the ear-shattering pep rally, and I couldn't hear her question to me.  She smiled knowingly and crowed, "You're so out of it today!  I think you're pregnant!"
    
       She didn't know.   She didn't know about the boxes of ovulation tests we've blown through.  She didn't know about my feelings of wistfulness when I see other people's chubby newborns on Facebook.  She didn't know about Dan's hilariously uncomfortable visit to a certain doctor's office. She didn't know that I miscarried last year.  To be fair, she was just making a cheerily innocuous comment, hoping to be the first to discover some minor bit of gossip.

   I choked out something like, "Uh, no, not pregnant."  I thought that was the end of the interaction, but somehow it wasn't. She began to rationalize her sleuthing skills.  "You had that doctor's appointment on Monday, and you look exhausted!"  

** NOTE to self:  Re-stock concealer. **

       At this point in the conversation, I would not have been surprised if she had peeled up my shirt to poke my muffin top and squealed, "There's your baby bump!!"

        Getting pissed, I repeated again, "Seriously, NOT with child." 

      She just smirked, all Uh-huh, whatever preggers!  I'm on to you!  

      When I denied it a third time, she stopped smiling because I think she felt a bit embarrassed and chirped, "Well, it'll happen any day now!"  It was her way of being reassuring, after an exchange that felt like a punch to the (baby-less) gut.  It sucks to have to convince someone that you're not pregnant.

     Not even a little bit.

     The idea of being a little bit pregnant is, of course, false.  But it reminds me of another rather thoughtless comment made by a different teacher lately.  She had asked me about how the baby making was going, and I confessed that I was frustrated and also scared of miscarrying again, like I had the first time.  She commiserated with me about this fear, and then launched into a story about her sister losing her pregnancy at ten weeks, which was understandably devastating to her.  At the end, she said, "I mean, Christen, she was really far along, though.  It wasn't like yours where you were barely pregnant."

     Again, she just didn't know.  She didn't know what that night was like for us.  She didn't know how I couldn't stop crying, how I ransacked my house and threw the bib I bought to reveal the news to Dan, the pregnancy book, and my diary and slammed them away in a drawer that I haven't opened since.  She was trying to be reassuring that things could be worse.  I've thought a lot about this a lot and have decided that as well-intentioned as that comment was, she's just plain wrong.  There is no "barely pregnant".  I was. And even though it was over in seven weeks, it didn't make it easy to lose. I still think about it all the time.

    If it sounds like I'm throwing a pity party for myself, that's not my intention.  I know there are more extreme losses than mine, that people struggle for years with conceiving, that couples spend thousands in rounds of IVF.  There are so many things to treasure about having this time with just Dan: sleeping in, our winery visit the other day, date nights with no need for a sitter...  It's not lost on me!   If I need to be patient on waiting for a family, my best friend is a pretty damn good person to do it with.  No pun intended.  It's just lately other people's comments have mingled with my own frustration.  Anyone else been there? 

     Like I said before, there are very little things in life that are black or white.  This blog might usually show one side of my life, my highlight reel, but I thought it was worth giving some screen time to my frustrations and, yes, even sadness, too.