I was recently asked to submit some essays for a book about pregnancy and birth in the LDS culture. I started digging in to my archives tonight and found all sorts of notes I took about The Chief's pregnancy. It was then I realized I haven't written much about our second pregnancy. Here's to catching up.
When I was eight weeks along I spotted on a Friday. Just once. But it was followed up by a dry spell of sickness. Whereas I had felt so awful before, suddenly I felt fine. These two symptoms worried me and I told Chup I was thinking we'd miscarry.
Then, as the weekend progressed I elevated my certainty. I knew we'd miscarry. I waited up for two nights anticipating the early labor. I commenced with the mourning process. I talked myself into all sorts of bravery. And I waited.
This was before we became public with the pregnancy. Until then it was our secret we had shared with family only. Because few people knew I was pregnant in the first place, few people would know if I miscarried. A simple recovery I'd blog about sometime down the road.
We asked the family to remember us in their fasting and prayers. Which they did, resolutely. Chup gave me a strong blessing promising me a healthy pregnancy. But the spiritual whisperings told me I needed to do more. I needed to go public with our pregnancy, even with my broken heart--and heaven sent wishes--I was certain I'd lose the baby.
So I wrote a post about bibs. But I couldn't find courage enough to just come out and say "WE ARE PREGNANT" because my faith was too weak. Instead I wrote it with a hint of an announcement, and a hope that I had fulfilled my end of the bargain.
By the next day though, almost everyone had interpreted my hidden meaning. And with that followed an onslaught of thoughtful well-wishing. It came in all directions, blog, email, facebook, phone calls etc. and from all sorts of good people. I felt like I was attracting positive energy and it was somehow supporting my body as well.
I had never experienced this sensation before. It was a powerful rush of firmness, a shot of courage. Maybe something I can't quite explain with limited vocabulary.
But the next day I woke up sick.
You may never know how much your kindness made a difference in my life.