Monday, August 26, 2013

That time I was almost pregnant but I wasn't

I've been debating telling this story for a few days. At first, I told myself that I wouldn't, that I would keep this one to myself because I didn't want to listen to those out there who like to tell people like me that grief somehow implies that we are not grateful for what we have.

Then I decided to tell this story because I know that there are other women out there like me, who everyone else insists should be done. Who can't conceive of a world where we might not be. Who can't understand that having as many kids as I do already doesn't mean that I have cherished memories of them.  Who can't possibly fathom my reasons, not that I'm going to hash them out here, because I don't intend to.

Mostly, I'm telling this story because it needs to be told. It needs to get out of my head. And I need to let it go so that I can write the other things I need to write this week.


In this world of motherhood, there is a lot of conventional wisdom out there. One of the phrases that I've heard a lot lately is how there are certain things that can virtually guarantee that you will have another getting rid of all your baby stuff, or planning some kind of fancy vacation, or sending your youngest child to Kindergarten.

When you actually want to have another baby, all those phrases sting a little. Instead of letting on to anyone that I'm crazy enough to want another one, I wave off the jokes and laugh because that is what I'm socially expected to do.

I'm not supposed to actually want another baby.

But I do.

To compound the situation by a thousand fold, I missed a pill last month, on a day after I was sick and it probably ran through my body too fast to do any good.  After a while of wondering, of nervous anxiety, of wrapping my head around the idea that an oops might be happening, I stopped taking my pills, knowing that if I got a period in a few days the oops wasn't meant to be, but knowing in my heart that I wanted it anyway and that I would be elated.

I resisted the urge to buy a pregnancy test because I knew I couldn't wait to use it.

I stopped the pills and nothing happened for days. And days.

Initially scared to death, I became more and more used to the idea of this happening. After only a couple of hours it seemed, I'd gone from hesitant to fully embracing this idea.

I wasn't just okay with having another baby, I wanted one.

With every day that passed period free, my hopes grew bigger and bigger. I was working things out in my head about carpool numbers and when the baby would come. I was thinking of names already, jumping way ahead of myself.

Until the morning of the first day of school. The fateful day that I ushered my youngest over the threshold of his Kindergarten classroom. That day.

I got my period.

On that day.

Trust me when I tell you that finding out you aren't pregnant when you want to be is always devastating. Finding out you aren't just minutes before you have to let your baby go on the first day of school - unspeakable.

Grateful that I hadn't confided the possibility of the oops to anyone before that day, I laughed off the jokes people told at my expense. I smiled through the tears I fought back whenever someone asked if I was doing okay with little boy being gone. I nodded along when the conventional wisdom came out and those who didn't know told me that this would be the day I would wish for another baby.

I did wish.

It just didn't come true.

Society says that I should be done. My heart isn't. The timing sure didn't help.

Maybe someday that wish will come true, but I know that it probably won't. It's not in my hands and all the hope in the world can't make it happen. Hope can be pretty soul crushing sometimes.

I was almost pregnant, but almost doesn't count.

At least my baby already started Kindergarten and I never ever have to relive that day again.

I have to apologize for my moods the last few weeks.

This was why.


  1. Don't ever apologize for being you. It's what makes you special.

    If Mr. Hive is cool with it - then let it happen if it's meant to.

    Punk wasn't supposed to. Two forms of not supposed to failed. And you know what, I wouldn't change it for the world.

  2. I can't even KIND of get pregnant, because I got my tubes tied. But sometimes.....sometimes I get that longing. I look at Lil Bit and think "She's 4...she's not a baby anymore...". This is the age Boy and Girl child were when I got pregnant with LiL Bit. I almost expect for January to come around and be pregnant. That's just how it's happened.

  3. I love that you shared this story. You're so brave, kind, and loving. XO

  4. No apologies necessary. Only love.

  5. hmmm no...I think words will fail here but I will try...

    We are expected to get married and HAVE kids....Then we HAVE kids and then they say..BUT not that many....Then heaven forbid we want more.

    I can go from wanting more to not wanting more...IN a heartbeat... If money and health were no object.and all that...I have been told not to have anymore and that I am probably infertile due to medication but that another pregnancy would be seriously detrimental to my health. But still the heart wants

  6. I understand from a different perspective as I was never able to get pregnant and have my own. I had that disappointment period for too many months which turned into too many years. It never hurt any less even after adopting our girls. It's hard to let go. Sadly, it will be what it is.... Hugs! Michelle

  7. I think it lost my reply. Oops. I love you. I have four kids. And my tubes are tied for some Dumb reason and yet I have hoped and cried too. My tubes have been tied for 11 years. I'm really late, I have to tell myself that I can't be pregnant so I don't hope. I understand. I have the ability to be a grandma and I still get it. Sending you love mama xoxo

  8. And then I helped by sending you a really uplifting blog post...

    You know how sorry I am about this. I'm even more sorry that you had any hesitation about saying how sad you were. We can't help our hearts. xo

  9. I am very proud and humbled that you decided to share this story. It did *need* to get out of your head.
    That fucking period showing UP at exactly the WRONG time~ GAH~ I HATED THAT!
    I am not going to try to comfort you with any bullshit platitudes (you know me :)
    But I do want to tell you that I love you and I am here if you want to talk.
    Love and light to you my friend,

  10. I completely relate to this post. Even after a tubal (needed for medical reasons), I get a little excited when I'm late - hoping I may be one of those 1% of women who conceive when they're not supposed to. And I just sent off my kindergartener this week, too! Hang in there.

  11. I want another baby so badly, but my husband doesn't. Also, we are going through a rough time, so it probably isn't a good idea. Yet, I want another baby so bad. I too had a "scare," that I really hoped was a pregnancy. I mourned the simple thought of me probably never having another baby again. And yes, everyone has to voice their opinion on the number of children you want/have. Hugs to you!

  12. I have baby fever bad right now too. I also have the exact opposite. There is no catchy phrase for that so I'm just going to call it "One is enough syndrome." I have some kind of bipolar baby nonsense going on. I hope things work out for you in the best way. Don't pay attention to society. It's full of shit. Yep, I swore. So you know I mean it. Seriously, the same society keeps telling me I am not done even though I might want to be. If I only have one, that means someone else has to make up for the 1.5 I am lacking, right? So, have as many as you want to and ignore the naysayers. They are just unhappy people trying to drag everyone down with them! Also, it is grief because you mourn what could have been. That is real grief. People who roll their eyes just haven't experienced it yet. Xoxo


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