Thank you for the kind words, everyone!! I think I may have been a little unclear – this is actually my third pregnancy, if that was a bit garbled in my previous post. The first resulted in the most perfect, beautiful, intelligent, remarkable child ever born to mankind, which was certainly lucky for me, and it was the second that ended (in the tenth week) in miscarriage.
The outstanding good fortune for me was twofold: I had already realized the first time around that the creation of a new life is a miracle that happens in your body, but almost entirely beyond your control. I never had any (long-lasting, at least) feelings that the miscarriage was due to anything that I had done wrong.
The other fortunate thing is that almost all of my friends who have had children had also had a miscarriage, and so I was able to talk things through at the time with people who had not only been there, but who had had one or two healthy children since.
We did have the expelled material analyzed, and it was just one of those things, a mistake in the division of the genetic info early on, and not at all likely to happen again. Even though I know perfectly well that worrying not only doesn’t help, it doesn’t provide any guarantee that things will go smoothly this time, it’s hard to put it out of my mind.
I really must look into this inner serenity thing someday.
Shirley, I would love to take your advice and eat a whole pint of Haagen-Dazs (sp?) Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream, but I may have to take a raincheck for a month or so until this queasiness works its way out. (No vomiting, thank all that’s holy – just a general bleahness.)
BTW, I found out that I was pregnant with my son in the 13th week (long story) when my doctor did an ultrasound and there was this active, all-limbs-in-place, definitely-healthy little person of a fetus on the screen. That moment was by far the most astounding and joyous of my life. Why on earth haven’t they marketed an at-home ultrasound machine? I’d be watching the internal show 10 hours a day.
Okay, here’s a question to all of you parents: what is it about the sight of a newborn child in its parent’s arms that brings out disapproval in people? My son was dressed too warmly and too coldly, held in the wrong manner, coddled when we went to him as soon as he cried, fed too often, and who knows what else. I quickly learned to appreciate that people wanted to be a part of taking care of him, but how is it that everyone knew so much better how to do that than his own parents? I know that this happens to every mother and father out there, but why do people feel so much freer with unasked-for advice about babies than, for example, telephones?
I really do appreciate your thoughtfulness, y’all. Thanks!
