I’m 4 weeks and 5 days.
Which sounds so early, and yet I’m somehow feeling accomplished even making it this far.
When I went in for my blood check yesterday, the receptionist asked if it was my first pregnancy. I literally laughed out loud. “Nope. My 6th.”
I watched her look me up and down as I held Z in my arms, as though this body of mine had actually birthed 5 babes already.
I let her gawk and didn’t offer any additional comment.
The receptionist called the next day during a coffee date with a new friend. We were at a park, so there was no way for me to rush off unnoticed to take the call. The receptionist offered appointment times, and mentioned my nurse interview would be on Tuesday, and my OB appointment would be between 8-10 weeks.
“But,” I said. “Given my history, don’t you want to see me sooner?”
And if you ever have wondered if the staff looks at your chart … THEY DON’T.
“What history?” the receptionist answered.
And there went any chance that I could keep my pregnancy discreet. (Sorry, New Friend, you’re about to hear what most people don’t share so early.)
“1 ectopic, 3 miscarriages.”
After ny call was done, New Friend was gracious as I explained that I was early in pregnancy, and didn’t know how this would go.
That night, Ryan and I went to the Y to play racquetball. I was nauseated most of the day, and certainly was while we were playing, but we still had fun.
It was fun to pretend for a few minutes that I really was growing a baby, and this was a real pregnancy, not a false start, false hope.
It amazes me that even in spite of all my losses, a small glimmer of hope still remains.
Hope can be a resilient little bugger.
*** Spoiler alert. We didn’t get to keep this baby. In spite of the loss, I’m back-posting my journal through each day of the pregnancy. Many of you who have been newly pregnant after a loss can relate. Those of you who can’t, well, here’s a peak into a friend’s life. Because chances are, if you’re not the 1 in 4 affected by pregnancy and infant loss, a few friends of yours are. ***