Crimson Tide

Fear is a gripping thing. I've felt so much like an insane person these last few days, obsessing over every little thing, sleuthing out the clues and searching them for what they must mean. Turns out, I've have phantom symptoms. Or maybe I just want this so badly, I've attributed every "symptom" to being because of The Thing I Want Most.

Truthfully, the "nausea" was probably because I've had a lot of stress at work. The "implantation bleeding" was really pre-period spotting and the "implantation cramping" was really just PMS. The "fatigue" was because of not sleeping well. The "frequent urination" was because I drank a ton of water. . . etc. etc.

Typically, anything I set my mind to, I go out and do it. I go out and get it. That's not to say the attempt is flawless or the outcome perfect. But it's usually within my control. Fertility and pregnancy is one thing I have absolutely no control over. Hence, the gripping fear.

I cried last night to M and I was so glad to be able to do that. He's so patient with me and I'm so grateful for that. I'd love to cry to everyone, to throw a big ol' pity party for myself, to let out the roiling sorrow, to let go of my inner harbinger of heartache - but Miss Pragmatic won't let me. She tells me to keep it together, to not fall apart. And I do. Mostly.

Turns out my miscarriages have been gossip fodder at work. And these are people who like me. While I know logically they weren't trying to be malicious, it stabs to know it's been discussed with everyone in my office but me. Not that I've ever even talked about it, nor has anyone ever asked about it. It's just very hurtful because it's intensely personal and painful and I'm trying to recover, I really am. And really, it's just because I'm having a rotten week with this particular subject. Any other week and I'd probably shrug it off.

Even now, the tears come easily. There's so much to these drops of saltwater: each one is a whole world of pain, ache, worn out worry and fatigued fear.

When the cramps in my low back started today, I knew. I knew my period would inevitably start. My sadness at the prospect of "trying again next month" was overshadowed by a sense of relief that at least I know something. When the bleeding started, I was relieved. No more sleuthing, no more guesswork - until next month, at least. Such a simple thing, bleeding. And yet with that simple thing, my sanity was restored. I don't have to start down a whole new path of worry: being pregnant with the looming threat of miscarriage hanging over me and more waiting ahead of me to find out.

I'm tired of feeling crazy. I'm tired of thinking about it every. single. second. of the day. I'm tired of the endless cycle of hoping, praying, obsessing, trusting, fearing, worrying. . . ad nauseum for days on end.

I feel like bawling my eyes out. But more than anything, I want to be glad this horrendous two week wait is finally over!

~Nichole