I was pregnant. For 10 happy weeks and 2 awful weeks, I was pregnant. I'm the oldest in my family, and until July, the only one married. This was to be the first grandchild for my parents, and they were ecstatic! Carl and I went back and forth between being really happy, and wondering what the hell we were doing, but I've been told nearly everyone feels that way, even after the children have been around for a while. We were excited.
Two weeks ago the ultrasound revealed that the gestational sac was not as big as it should be, and while I'm no technician, it looked pretty empty to me. No little embryo in there, no little heartbeat. And we were told we had to wait 2 weeks until the next ultrasound to know anything. Unless I started to miscarry before then.
I hate the terms "threatened miscarriage" or "threatened abortion." They sound like I'm throwing a tantrum. I'll hold my breath...
Monday, we went back, and nothing had changed. Except I was no longer threatening to miscarry... I had begun. And I'm ok. I've been sad, very sad, and disappointed. However, what I thought was the worst thing that could happen has happened. And I'm ok. Carl's ok, too. It really isn't the worst thing that could happen. We know we can do it again, and the odds are in our favor that this time, I'll carry a baby to term. It's surprising how hopeful and grateful I feel- our family and our friends are so good. Such support. My favorite knitter in MN, Jenny, emailed me practically every day to check on me. How lucky am I?
I'm glad I've had this little space to think about other things- or maybe at least pretend I was thinking about other things- for the past 2 weeks. The anticipation, the not knowing, was far worse than coming to terms with the end of my first pregnancy. I over-analyzed every twinge, every single gas bubble, until I couldn't feel anything anymore. Every negative sign was followed by a positive sign and vice versa. After the first week, I simply felt like a spectator, with no clue which way things were going to go.
One thing I have discovered is the joy of knitting baby clothes. Aside from the preparation for the baby who will wear them, they're quick! They make me feel like I'm accomplishing something. They're soft and comforting, too. I've done the back and left front panel of the Baby Yoda Sweater, and I'm not going to stop. My baby won't be born at the end of February now... but my baby will still need a sweater, whenever s/he makes the grand entrance. When it's complete, I'll post a picture. Knitting therapy to the rescue again!