I should be grading undergraduate papers right now (oh, the grammatical horrors!). Or I could be finishing up the favors for my son’s class for his birthday. Or maybe working on my assignment for Tuesday.
I’ve been trying hard to be upbeat and pleasant, not letting on to the family member who doesn’t know, not wanting to give an opening to the two who do. But, as I told Trillian this morning, I’ve used up my nice. Family leaves town tomorrow and my presence is required only a little this week, so I won’t have to force myself too much over the next few days.
I am certainly sad—I put away the pregnancy journal with that October date, I look at the maternity clothes I had moved into my closet and drawers and know I should put them away again, I consider the schedule I made for the next year and how perfectly the birth fit into what I need to accomplish.
But more than sad, much more than sad, I am angry. And this is not what I’m used to. Usually, I simmer and hold a grudge or skip right to sad. No, it’s not healthy, but that’s my pattern and what I expected to feel. Instead I find myself overwhelmed by raw anger, the sort that makes me want to scream and punch walls.
First the anger was at my body for not being able to stay pregnant. I understand, on an intellectual level, that there was some sort of anomalous chromosomal abnormality, not anything that could be foreseen and nothing that is even that likely to happen again. But I still feel betrayed by my own body.
Since this all began, the cause of the anger at my body has changed. It appears that it will not be able to take care of the problem on its own. I go to the midwife this week for some tests and to decide about going for another ultrasound or to a doctor, most likely both. At the least, I will probably end up with a prescription for a medication to cause strong contractions so that my body will finally release everything since it is unwilling to do that on its own.
Then there’s the anger that I am now scared. Will I be able to get pregnant again? Will I miscarry again? How would I deal with that? How could I deal with that? And I’m angry because pregnancy is something I enjoyed last time and so looked forward to, something I was so ready for, so convinced was part of who I am right now. And then it was suddenly gone.
Finally there’s the general anger. The “it’s not fair” and “why me.” Now, this would generally fall under the sadness category for me, but this time it comes with an unusual-for-me “fuck this.”
I am trying to channel some of this anger and the months of the calendar I now find myself staring down. It will be late summer, at the earliest, before I can consider insemination again. I am headed into exam time, my summer schedule is full, and I will be enrolling in a Spring seminar. And so I will spend the next several months trying to improve my diet, workout habits, and stress levels. I started a gentle, herbal cleanse, as much for what it signifies psychologically as for the expected physical benefit. And the anger has been handy in finding the energy to workout. So far, it has mostly involved walking, but they are much longer and more purposeful than I could otherwise manage.
But I also know that part of my healing process will involve the loosening of this anger, that I can’t truly move on until I let go of it. And so right now, I release it, some small part of it, into the ether.