If you need me, I’ll be feeling myself up
I am 12 weeks pregnant and anxious AF. Pregnancy is nerve wracking in it of itself what with the whole lack of control you have over the growth of a person inside you “thing”. When you’re pregnant your body is not your own. At least that’s how I feel. “The baby”/hormones dictate how I feel (emotionally and physically), what I can eat, when I need to sleep and how I move through the world. When I’m walking down the street while pregnant, I’m trying not to fall or bump into anything (not an easy feet when you’re me and you’ve tripped UP stairs more times than you care to remember. I have also crashed into a parked car while riding a bike. Don’t ask.) I’m on constant alert and in my mind I create an invisible bubble around my belly. If someone or something penetrates the bubble, I am prepared to fight.*
*This is why you should never touch a pregnant woman’s belly without asking. She may hurt you. **
On second thought, don’t even ask if you can touch a pregnant woman’s belly. We may say “yes” but that’s just another example of us internalizing the misogynistic idea that our bodies aren’t our own and it’s more important to be polite than to say ,“No. You can’t touch my belly.” Just know, if we want you to touch our belly WE will ask YOU.
I am extra anxious right now because in 2017 I had two miscarriages.
At the start of 2017, when my daughter was a year and a half, we started trying to give her a sibling. I got pregnant easily but had debilitating morning sickness aka all day sickness. At week 11, when I was starting to feel better, the doctor called to tell me that blood work had come back indicating that the fetus had a third 13th chromosome. I didn’t know what that meant so I asked ,“Is that bad” He answered quickly. “It’s incompatible with life. But we’ll need to do further testing as the DNA info could be coming from the fetus or the placenta.” He didn’t sound hopeful. I knew it was over but I asked if he knew the gender anyway. “Do you really want to know?” He said. “Yes,” I said. So he told me.
When my husband and I went to the diagnostic imaging center for the the 12 week sonogram, we were ushered into a room for genetic counseling. The doctor spoke to us while pointing to pamphlet upon pamphlet with pictures of cells and chromosomes. I almost felt like I was being sold a investment property in Mexico.
She explained they would test the fetus now and then again sixteen weeks to confirm what they suspected and then I could decide if I wanted to terminate the pregnancy or go forward with the knowledge I would probably miscarry or deliver a stillborn baby. My head swimming, my husband and I went into the room with the sonogram machine and waited in silence for the technician. She came in, got the process going and moved the cold apparatus around my belly. There was no sound. For a minute, I thought maybe she forgot to turn the sound on. She quickly left, and then a new doctor came in and told us matter-of-factly there was no heartbeat and we should come talk to him in when we were ready . When he left the room, I burst into tears and held my face in my hands. My husband cried audibly. They had left the image of the non-living fetus in my uterus on the screen in front of us. My husband said, “let’s get out of here” but I didn’t want to go because then the chapter would be closed.
When we finally collected ourselves and went to speak with the doctor, he explained that they knew the fetus wasn’t viable and it was better that this happened now instead of waiting until sixteen weeks to have amniocentesis. He also told us the fetus measured around 11 weeks and so had ceased living for over a week. “Didn’t you notice your breasts become less tender?” He said. And I froze up.
Didn’t I notice my breasts get less tender? No….I didn’t. Maybe I did a little bit I also get nauseous and I was thinking I was just starting to feel better. But now I feel like some horrible mother. Or a horrible woman. Horrible person? His words rung in my ears for days and haunt me to this day.
This last week, as I approached 12 weeks and my horrible nausea (yep, I had it again) has started to let up, I’ve begun compulsively feeling myself up. If my boobs are feeling any less tender, I want to know. No way these boobs are gonna get past me this time.
I wake, I feel. I put on bra, I feel. I walk around feeling myself up in public. I DON’T CARE. And I’ll continue to do it until this baby is born. So, if you see me in the next six months and we start to chat or catch up, don’t be surprised if Im also trying to cop a feel.
