Remember that I posted that the new meds had uh..upped my sex drive? Apparently too much. Because guess what?
I am pregnant.
Let that sink in a minute, cause it sure has NOT sunk in with me.
We were not trying. We were HAPPY. I was finally feeling good. Don't get me wrong, every fiber of my being wants this baby. I am just so damn scared. I have to wean off some of my meds, which is okay. It's a small price to pay for the potential to have a healthy baby. But I am worried about handling the stress without them.
The odds are against me. Six losses in four years. No answers from doctors or tests.
I can't get my hopes up. People keep telling me to have faith, to think positive, that this time it will be different...but if I let myself have those thoughts, how much more crushing will the loss be?
I debated posting this, even as I type it, I am not sure when I will. But this blog has never been about the happy shiny side of me.
Was it smart to get pregnant a month after a nervous breakdown? Hell no. Was this planned? Hell no. But if somehow, I manage to carry this baby to term and have another child I will be over the moon.
If this pregnancy ends like the last six, I will have to scrape the pieces of me that are left back together again. AGAIN. And I will because I have to.
Also apparently we will need to try to figure out how the hell birth control works.
**edited to add, not get the best feeling about how this is going, wont know for sure til next week.
The Acrobat’s Heart
1 day ago