I don’t want to share this with anyone, so I’ll share it with everyone.
I had my first miscarriage dream last night… when I say last night, I mean this morning, because I definitely wasn’t asleep before 2.30am… and there’s our first clue as to how I will logically process this.
I dreamt that I was a guest, on a game show? Anyway it had that feel. I was nauseous as all hell (but what’s new) and some boomer-aged host was explaining that if I couldn’t eat something by the time the countdown finished, I “would no longer be pregnant”.
So I obviously picked up various foods that had been offered to me and proceeded to vomit all over the table, all over my hands, all over the food. What I vomited, I have no idea, because I hadn’t eaten all day apparently… so the timer is counting down, and I’m running out of things to attempt that don’t already have vomit on them, and even those that did- there was a whole selection of foods I haven’t been able to stomach from the very beginning.
The timer made it to zero and the studio screens displayed a triumphant “NO LONGER PREGNANT!” It was confusingly celebratory, while simultaneously indicating that I’d missed out on the million dollars and was going home with nothing…
So I have emotions about that today, but let’s see… I’ve had a total of maybe 4 hours sleep, after an enormous day where I probably did too much, but definitely wanted to use my first good day in 10 days…
I’m really looking forward to meeting with the midwife formally and hopefully, feeling less alone and isolated.
My body is battling with my mind…
I tell myself that I’ll take control and get things done and stretch, and train lightly, and eat good food (not just tater tots and cereal)… but then I wake up- groggy, slept but not rested, nauseous-again-still-always… and forcing toast down my throat then requires an hour or 2 rest to digest without regurgitation. By which point I need to eat again, because the nausea is worse on an empty stomach.
I’m trapped on the couch. I’m tired beyond comprehension- I’ve only been awake for 2 hours!
None of my clothes fit. I feel gross in just about everything, but I’m not pregnant enough to need maternitywear- and I have no desire to purchase any anyway. On that- having my priorities shift for the sake of a new life and becoming a mother- I can handle. But I don’t buy myself new clothes anyway. Never mind for a couple of short months never to be used again (probably). I can’t justify that expense. That consumption of resources. That effort in trying on goddamn clothes.
These 40°+ days have added up to migraines- of course- and still, no way to treat them. Motion sickness bands are my best friend. I have permanent indents in my wrist over the pressure point.
“Is it getting better at least?” Look, yes. It is better than the first 2 months. But listen, they weren’t much to compare to. That was the sickest I’ve been in my life. My feet are itchy, I want sushi, the baby is barely bigger than an avocado and the sensation of crushed stomach and fullness after not having eaten for 2 hours… is… well… stupid. Gaviscon can only do so much.
Finding the positive in situations usually reserved for negativity has become my super power, after years of only seeing the darkness. To have this challenge that so brutally has been disheartening, exhausting and confusing. I don’t feel like myself.