I’ve been chewing on this post and tiptoe-ing around the taboo since announcing this pregnancy for fear of offending or ostracizing or something to someone. Or myself from the rest of the universe. But I can’t NOT write this.
I’ve had over a month for this pregnancy to sink in and I’m still not sure how I feel about it.
When I wrote this summer that because we weren’t 100%, we were waiting, I meant it. And I was okay with it. When we really looked at things, now wasn’t the best time. We needed to wait. As the summer went on and Joshua and I had a great time together (and some not-so-great times, I’ll admit) I really started to envision our life with just him. And I liked what I saw. At least until he was older and could understand what another baby meant.
When I say “we didn’t plan this” I mean “we didn’t plan this.”
And this? This is not the kind of thing that I don’t plan.
I feel irresponsible somehow, like a teenager who gets knocked up in the backseat of a car. In fact, this unplanned pregnancy is the most irresponsible thing I’ve ever done in 29 years on this earth. And I went to a party school for college and pledged a sorority if that tells you anything. (Sorry, Mama. I hope I’m still the Golden Child.)
This irresponsibility leaves me with a feeling of shame. Guilt. Angst.
I feel guilty when I think of my friends who are battling infertility who so desperately want this that they’d do just about anything, including stab themselves with needles.
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I don’t want to talk about this pregnancy because all I can find to do right now is complain and complaining must make me seem like a miserable excuse for a human being to them. I know it stings. I know it hurts. And that compounds my guilt and shame so that I’m not only feeling those feelings because of this unplanned pregnancy but also because of how I must be hurting them with how ungrateful I am.
And I know that I’m being ungrateful with what is obviously meant for me for reasons I can’t yet see and maybe never will.
And yet?
I have no idea how to flip a switch and suddenly be grateful when physically and emotionally I’m miserable.
I have small flashes of excitement. I’ll see a cute baby outfit or a pair of booties and think of how much I loved Joshua in those things and I’ll feel a smile form in my heart. But then a wave of nausea washes over me and I’m back to feeling like a stranger in my own body. Like this is happening TO me instead of WITH me.
And then I think of the women who would gladly feel like puking their guts out 24 hours a day and I start to kind of hate myself for feeling so ungrateful.
I know there’s not a baby-quota, but why not them? Why me? Why me when I feel so horrifically unequipped for this?
(((Hugs))) That’s all.
Thanks.
Miranda?
This is YOUR experience.
The fact that there are those who would “gladly feel like puking their guts out 24 hours a day” does not, in any way, negate your experience.
You are entitled to feel what you’re feeling. Don’t let anyone cheapen your emotions.
I’m sorry that you’re struggling.
If you need a friend, I’m always here.
I know it is. I know.
But that doesn’t make it any easier to think about how the Universe just sucks sometimes.
And I don’t know that it’s so much that I feel like my emotions are being cheapened. It’s that I don’t feel entitled to them. I feel like I’m being a whiny brat who got a brand new car and is complaining because it’s the wrong color.
Took me a LONG time to be appreciative of my son when I got pregnant. I think those feelings are something we as moms have to process. I asked myself a lot “Why am I the one chosen to have this baby? Why were we having this baby and my friends ached who have tried for years to have a baby ached hearing our news.” Sometimes I still don’t understand it.
I hope there’s some comfort for you to know you’re not the only one that has these feelings.
There is comfort. Really. I just hope that eventually, the connection comes and I don’t feel so outside of this whole thing.
We didn’t technically plan our 2nd either. I was getting close to 35 so we knew that if we were going to have another that we’d have to start working on it. And while we never agreed to “work” on it. It happened. I was all angsty too. Like I wasn’t ready to fully accept it then. Because I didn’t mentally prepare myself that “yes, this is going to happen now” I found myself questioning what had happened and how I could not have planned it to the T like the first time around. I hope you find peace with it. I did.
I know I will eventually. I don’t have much of a choice. But what you said about not being able to mentally prepare myself is huge with me. I’d actually prepared myself for the exact opposite and it was cozy there.
You feel how you feel – regardless of what someone else is going through. Not everyone is excited about a pregnancy – wanted or not. I thought I would be over the moon but once I realized my morning sickness was never going away, I also realized I might never, ever want to be pregnant again. And I hated 90% of mine.
You deal with this how you feel comfortable. If you are a mess right now, allow yourself to be a mess. Don’t try to force the happy pregnancy for us or yourself or anyone. Because many other women out there feel *just* like you and may need to see this side of it.
Oh. I so feel like a mess right now. A big, hot mess. I can’t even bring myself to say “oh the puking/zits/bloat is okay because there’s a baby” like I could, and did, with Joshua. Not even a little bit. I loved being pregnant with him. I do not love being pregnant right now.
I’m glad you wrote this. This is clearly a big weight on your shoulders, and it’s OKAY to feel that way… The simple fact that infertility exists does not make your feelings invalid or petty.
Although we planned to have two kids, there was a lot of upheaval in my home during my pregnancy with my son. It made it difficult to embrace the pregnancy or really be sure about anything. I wouldn’t trade my son for the world, but those feelings were no less real.
You’ve got an ear here. Try to go easy on yourself. No guilt needed!
I think my guilt is partly compounded by the fact that I have an infertility diagnosis, and while it’s mild, we did have to seek treatment to get pregnant with Joshua. So then when I think about people who have it so much worse than I did and who want it so badly, I’m just all “WTF UNIVERSE!?!?!” for them and for me.
I’m so unsure about so much right now.
I totally agree with Nichole…. this is your experience and you are allowed to feel how you feel. There is NOTHING wrong with it.
Let yourself feel the way you feel and work through it on your own timeline. I’ve told you before that my reaction to finding out I was pregnant was to cry UNhappy tears. I felt the same feelings of “irresponsibility” as you did. People knew we had money problems, what would they say?
It was hard but I will tell you by the end of my first trimester I had turned a corner and things are great. Give yourself some time… I promise it will get better.
I just keep holding out hope that I’m going to wake up one morning and this is going to feel okay.
um…::raises hand to Diana’s comment:: I FEEL JUST LIKE THIS. and we planned it. And most days I regret it.
There. I said it out loud.
I will now go and cry over my guilt and my horrible mothering-ness.
Again.
NO CRYING IN BASEBALL, Katie.
I love you.
My husband and I tried to get pregnant for the better part of a year with our son and I *still* had enormous bouts of guilt, angst, anger, and self-doubt throughout my pregnancy. Heck, even now, 17 months after his birth, I feel that way occasionally. Like, OMG, what was I thinking?
It’s natural. There’s love in your heart for your second baby, but sometimes the irrationality of fear and instability make the waters murky. They’ll clear with time.
I know I’ll be able to love this baby. I know my heart will grow. Or I hope it will. But the fear and worry and murky waters are really overtaking me right now.
I’m so sorry. I feel like we all try to be cheerleaders and so we say “Squeeeee! You’re having a baby! It’s the mostest wonderfulest thing in the whole entire world!” and then you feel worse for not feeling that way. When really maybe you need people to say, “Of course you’re scared. Of course you are worried. Of course you are angry and miserable. I’m so sorry you feel bad. It sucks.”
And it’s okay. I promise.
You are in my head right now, as you usually seem to be. This is exactly how I feel, except add a heaping dose of TERRIFIED OUT OF MY FREAKING MIND.
It’s easy(er) for other people to be excited because this happens away from them. They get to visit and go home. And I get to live it. And that scares me.
I too felt all angsty during the first trimester of both pregnancies, both of which were “surprises.” I always seemed to feel better after the first few weeks of pukey-sleepy-bloatedness wore off. Looking back, I wish I was one of those women who blossom during pregnancy, but I’m not, and I’m ok with that now. It doesn’t make me (or you) love your baby any more or less. You’re still an awesome mama.
I remember feeling fat-pregnant for the first half of my pregnancy with Joshua, but I was immensely grateful to even be pregnant. Eventually, I think I blossomed. Maybe. I know I swelled up like roadkill in the heat and seemed ready to burst.
I guess I just feel emotionally deflated right now and that’s what’s hard at this moment in time.
Tears in my eyes because I adore you so much. This pregnancy is yours & yours alone. It’s your experience, & please share & post all your feelings on it. There’s not a baby quota & you shouldn’t feel bad. I hate for you that you feel bad but please don’t feel bad on mine or other infertility ladies behalfs. You are so sweet. I’m here for you if you need to talk anytime.
I said this in a previous comment, but I feel bad because I remember what that infertility journey is like, even though my journey was nowhere near as complicated as some. And now I have this thing that came with no effort and I should be happy and I’m not and it sucks.
It’s almost nice to hear someone else say this.
Kara was a surprise. We weren’t ready to have children….in the least. We were basically on the 5 year plan. And whoops….2 years into that plan, I came up with that scary positive test…..with all the contraceptives in place. The first 12 weeks were terrifying – why? Because I drank, and took medications, and lived my life as a non-pregnant individual for those first 6 weeks. What if I screwed up my unborn child’s life? I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want this. Not now, at least.
And for the next 9 months I lived my life in a constant state of fear. Doing everything perfectly correct, as best I could. Because I wasn’t ready for this. So if I wasn’t ready, I might as well try my best to make it right.
And then….4 weeks after she was born….I found out my mom had breast cancer. And she was starting treatment. And she considered Kara her reason to survive.
Now…..this is a drastic example, yes. But…..my angst and surprise became her reason to fight. My “oops” became her “absolutely.”
And this one “mistake” …….. has been the best “mistake” of my life.
I don’t ever want to think of this baby as a mistake. An accident? Unplanned? HOLYSHITBALLSOMG? Maybe.
I know there’s a reason for this somewhere in the midst of all this anguish. I’m just having a hard time finding that reason.
I should edit my word choice – my “surprise” rather than a “mistake.” As you said, I never want to think of having children a mistake – someone had a purpose for it. God wanted me to have that child right now. So a surprise to me, yes….but never a mistake. It took a long time for my pregnancy to settle in and find its reason. But we did 🙂 I hope you’re feeling okay!
Miranda – it takes a lot of guts to say that out loud. We were trying for our second and yet when I saw the positive results, I instantly had regrets. I was angst-ridden for much of my pregnancy. But in my third trimester my mind and body settled into an “acceptance” and I’ve loved my daughter with my whole being ever since. Hugs to you. I’m sorry you’re having a hard time with this. But as everyone has said, they’re your feelings. Please just live with your feelings without the pressure to put them in context of others.
I’m waiting for that love. Acceptance. Something peaceful.
I agree with Nichole. This is your experience and you are allowed to feel this way. I’m sending you so much love.
Thanks, Jana. Feelings are so freaking stupid sometimes.
I had no idea.
I’m so sorry.
Love you
It’s okay. I love you too.
Thank you for posting this just when I thought that the entire genre of “Mommy Blog”, mine included, was just another vapid display of the age-old girl fight. Where each woman claims she is the best cook, wife, stay at home, working, attachment breastfeeding, photographing diy supermom or the one who has , for the sake of her children given up even her own mind and attention. But just wait till you see the birthday party post! I know I do it to. I want to be a good mother [read: I will be a better mommy than you].
But there is ambivilence, especially when that embryo is kicking you in the hormones. I felt that way an while our first was an opps, our second was planned. But still I felt fearful, guilty, irresponsible and woefully unprepared. Sometimes I wonder if part of the reason wanted A second was because I longed for that glowing blissfilled, grateful for my little blessing pregnancy. But it didn’t materialize, heck maybe I was even more ungrateful because I knew what I was getting into!
Ambivilence doesnot make you any less maternal. I’d argue that it makes you a human being! How did the first man shot into space feel? Grateful? Maybe a little. If you said you were just so delighted that none of the pregnancy woes bothered you nor the fact that having 2 young children is hard, I’d think you were either completely daft or lying to win best mommy blog of the year
HA! You will not find any of that “my life is sunshine farts and rainbow poops!” here! Because that is just not how my life works.
I had that joyful pregnancy with my first and this is so drastically different. I feel none of that and I’d really like to. I think feeling even a smidge of that would make me feel slightly less horrific.
And I’m terrified of how hard this will be. Absolutely, completely terrified.
Good Lord, girl. It’s like we are living the same pregnancy but it’s just 2 years apart. I felt much the same way. And there was NOTHING I could do about. I was pregnant on accident (no seriously, I was on birth control pills) and I was having this baby. The timing was all off. But now? Now I can see that the timing was absolutely perfect. And I believe in time you’ll feel that way too.
We can’t help our feelings. We can try to squash our feelings but it’s not fair. It is estimated that more than 10% of pregnant women get depressed at some time during their pregnancy. That’s a lot of large bellied women walking around feeling a lot of feelings that they think they don’t have the right to feel. I know because I have been through it. I came to a point where I didn’t even talk about the fact that I was pregnant. Other people would bring it up and I felt shameful and ungrateful so I would change the subject. It wasn’t until halfway through my 2nd trimester that I finally called it what it was . . . antenatal depression. I chose to medicate and felt better within 3 weeks.
And the birth of my second son? HANDS DOWN, one of the happiest days of my life. It was bliss those first few months. BLISS.
You’ll get that too, I promise. It might take awhile but you’ll get there.
I think I just take an unusually long amount of time to process change when it’s unexpected like this. I’m hesitant to call this full-blown antenatal depression just yet, but not so hesitant that I won’t if that’s what I feel like this is, you know?
I think I maybe have too high of hopes for the end of this pregnancy to be different. I so very much do not want a repeat of my labor and forced removal of Joshua with this one. I’m scared that I’m going to scare myself to the point that that’s what I get.
But there goes that cart without its horse, right?
This was so me with Emery and I still feel guilty for feeling the way I did but it will pass. I can’t say that it will be easy but you will make it through it and you will have this different little connection with this perfect little creature in the long run and you’ll ask yourself “why was I so unhappy afterall”…..
I feel for you because I still feel like I don’t deserve my precious girl after I felt this way when we were SHOCKED to find out she was coming.
Loves to you!
Thanks, Misty. I know that the connection will come. I also know I can’t force it. Eventually, I hope I don’t remember how this feels.
You are far from the first woman to have these feelings, and there is nothing at all wrong with them. You are strong and brave to be open about what you’re going through, and I admire you for that. Of course, the most important thing is that you be honest with yourself and give yourself permission to have these feelings and work through them. You will be OK. I don’t worry about you at all. I do want to give you a hug, though. Wish I could…
Hugs, virtual or otherwise, are always appreciated. Thanks, you.
i love you for being honest. we all crave to know what people REALLY feel. And, judging by the comments (which are awesome), lots of us can relate in one way or another.
we planned this pregnancy and literally talked and thought and agonized over it for months before trying, so in that sense it’s different that what you are going through.
But the feeling of dread? Terrified anticipation? Doubt? Fear?
Yup.
I know that I’d still have some part of these feelings whether this had been planned or not, but the lack of planning is completely overwhelming to me. 7ish more months to work through it, I suppose.
Miranda,
Every word resonated with me…it’s like you went back in time 20 weeks ago and said everything I was holding in. Hubs and I had JUST had a “we’re waiting” talk and then Bam! Consequences, right there in white and pink. Although my very first reaction was giggles, and I had moments throughout the weeks when I felt the tiniest bit excited, I spent a good 10 weeks feeling mostly freaked-the-hell-out. I found myself sobbing and telling hubs that I didn’t want anything bad to happen to the baby, but that I didn’t want to be pregnant anymore. It was just too much – we had a nice little status quo going. I couldn’t imagine screwing it up with such a big change, no matter how cute or loved the change might be. I kept getting ahead of myself – worrying about things months (and years) down the line. Seriously? Do I need to plan how to put the two kids in one room when the not-even-born-yet-baby is old enough for a twin bed? Really?
I still have moments and days when this all feels like too much. I think that’s normal – if not healthy. This is a big change. It’s okay to be weary of it, if not down-right terrified. I know I am. But…you’ll process through it. I promise. Give yourself time, keep talking and taking care of yourself. Take it one week at a time. That’s enough.
(((Bear Hugs)))
p.s. It’s hard not to feel like crap when you physically feel like, well, crap. For me, the exhaustion and nausea were a real mood-killer. I started to feel better when the pregnancy symptoms stopped taking over my life and I saw that maybe things weren’t going to be as drastically different as they seemed at the moment. So maybe a little ray of hope as you get to the end of the 1st tri?
Everything you just said. Exactly times infinity. That’s how I’m feeling.
thanks for the hugs.
Regardless of how scared you might feel, I know and many others know that you’ll love this baby and be a wonderful mom to this baby like you are to Joshua. Joshua will love (or grow to love) his little sister or brother. You’re a great mom, Dan is a great dad and Joshua will be a great big brother. And that’s what matters the most.
I know I will. And I know that my family will survive this. Emotionally, I’m just a wreck right now.
This is late. Sorry. This might be a repeat of what someone else already said. Sorry. This is how it is with two. Sorry for that as well.
BUT, we planned our second pregnancy and I felt the same way as you if not worse. Also, previously I’d had a stillborn at 5 months gestation and a miscarriage after that so I felt like the worst person on earth for getting pregnant on the second month we tried and then hating every minute. I was nauseated the entire time, I was on antibiotics 7 times for sinus infections, random vaginal infections (you’re welcome) and I’m not dirty, I promise!! I just hated it. I was never sick with Luke, my only complaints were not getting to food fast enough. Mostly I hated it because I felt like it would end at any minute given my history even though Luke’s pregnancy was so good, but still. You are entitled to feel the way you do. And I’m so sorry you feel that way. I hope your nausea let’s up a bit, that is NO FUN!
I’m so sorry you had such an awful experience with your second full-term pregnancy. 🙁
And I’m sorry for your loss.
Thank you for sharing with me.
Oh I can totally relate! My third baby was a complete surprise, and by surprise I mean we were preventing…but he was one determined little bugger surprised. So here I was thinking that we were done. Adjusting to life as just the four of us. Coming to terms with the fact that I would never have a little girl and BAM I’m pregnant again. It was seriously a difficult adjustment. I didn’t have a turning point until I saw the big ultrasound.
Give yourself as much slack as you possibly can. You need time. You need time to process. Allow yourself that time! I promise, it does get better when the shock wears off!
I know I’ll turn a corner. I hope I will. I think it’s just a matter of when.