The day I got married
coincided perfectly with me taking my last birth control pill. When we got back
from our honeymoon, I installed a pregnancy app on my phone to track my cycle. I
was on the pill for, like, 100 years and wasn't sure what to expect. It turns out I have a pretty normal 28ish-day cycle. I liked how the app told
us when to do it and I was always like, "It's green you know what that means ..." followed by a super sexy eyebrow wiggle.
One afternoon, after being prompted by the app, I took
an early pregnancy test. When it was positive, I was pretty
shocked. We thought we had more time, we thought it would take us a year
or something. I immediately—and begrudgingly—abandoned all my vices. It was
really hard; I kept saying I felt like I was in court-mandated rehab. But when
we lost the baby, of course I was wracked with guilt, thinking it was the
tequila from the week before or the wine I'd had with dinner or the chemicals in my gel nails.
Today, for the first
time since the miscarriage, I entered my data. The green squares on the calendar
are so tempting to me, which surprised me with some happy emotions. I
have been struggling with my thoughts of when we will be ready to try again, if
I even want to try again. I've told my husband repeatedly that I am
scared, and he completely understands and has admitted he has his own fears. He
says we can wait as long as I want, but I'm old and I don't want to wait too
long. However, having a miscarriage that lasted over two months has somewhat
complicated the equation for me.
I have been struggling with my thoughts of when we will be ready to try again, if I even want to try again.
I didn't think I
would have my period for a few more weeks and thought I
would have more time to detox and get my mind and body ready to try again. I
had made the decision not to try until I went through at least one cycle. I
wanted time to get drunk, eat all the things you can't eat when you're
pregnant, see my friends and try to get back to my old self again. I also feel
like my husband and I need to reconnect—we were only married for three months
before I got pregnant and miscarried. Oh and by the way, during those three
months we also decided to move back to Colorado from California for the purpose
of starting a family, interviewed for jobs, quit our jobs, worked our last two
weeks while packing up everything for the move and lived in general mayhem during
the majority of that time.
Through all of this
he's been my rock, and through his loving and compassionate behavior during the
miscarriage, he has inadvertently impressed upon me the solemnity of our
wedding vows, through sickness and in health. Those vows are no joke, people: When shit gets real, it gets real. But I want to be his happy
wife again, not the sad pile of tears I have become. I want our old life back
before we try to make a new one, even if it's just for a couple of weeks. So although
we've gotten the green light, I'm not ready to go.
My therapist asked me
yesterday if I would describe myself as a perfectionist and I was so surprised
by the question, I actually laughed out loud. Me? A perfectionist? My husband
would die, he's a textbook perfectionist. His attention to detail is INTENSE.
I, on the other hand, live on the sloppy half-finished side of life. I then
jokingly responded to the therapist, "Do you think I'm a perfectionist?" She looked at me in the way therapists do sometimes, you know what I mean
if you've ever been or seen one on TV, giving you the ol' quiet introspective
eye, before calmly giving you examples from things you've said.
One of the things was how I
kept talking about was how I want to be totally detoxed and perfectly cleansed
before we tried again. So even though I keep saying I know logically there was
nothing I did that caused the miscarriage, I guess I still feel like it was my
fault and this time around I want no room for doubt—even though many women
drink and smoke in early pregnancy (when they don't know they are preggo) and
have healthy babies.
I am feeling ready to
try again … but not next week, because I have a bunch of ladies' nights scheduled,
I want to get one more gel manicure, I want to brighten up my highlights, I
want to use a wedding gift that is for hot springs and massages. I want to take
hot baths and be intimate with my husband just for the sake of intimacy. I want
to eat sushi and prosciutto and runny eggs and drink martinis secure in
knowledge that it's my last hurrah for awhile, and this time it won't feel like
I had to give it all up overnight.
Getting pregnant, losing babies and having
children in general, puts women in a place where we have no control. I have to
let it go and que será, sera it,
but before I do that, I'm controlling my drinks and my nails and consumption of
raw and undercooked meats and seafood by having all of it, with a side of