Yea, But Are You Suuuuuuure?

we spent the long labor day weekend w/ friends in austin, tx. these are good friends we've kept from the days we were all living in mississippi years ago. we've known them since they first met and started dating. i remember feeling like the old married couple next to their early, drama and glory-filled budding romance. and they were a bit wild w/ lots of heavy drinking and partying...when we went down to new orleans w/ them to celebrate debauchery, let's just say that they were a whole lot better than us at availing themselves of all the tom foolery mardi gras had to offer. so that was then.

now they're married with an 8 month old baby girl.

and yee-doggy have things changed!

life is now completely about the baby. they'd be the first to tell you that, although they're thrilled to be parents and couldn't possibly love her any more than they do, it's really hard and just surviving the day is sometimes an achievement. not sleeping for more than 2-5 hrs at a time for nearly a year can really catch up with you. the stress on the marriage that comes w/ the new priority, the financial worries, etc all take their toll. and to their credit, they are one of those miracle couples who are somehow still able to carry on adult conversations while struggling w/ a baby slinging snotty cheerios and sweet potatoes at them or screaming for their attention.

and these are really good, well-intentioned people who are working hard to be the best parents in the world. they bought a whole catalog of pregnancy books when she was in the family way, and now that the bebe's been hatched, they have a whole catalog of "how to keep a baby alive" books. it's overwhelming. it truly is. both the arduous task of keeping a baby alive and the PhD in early child development you have to earn before you feel (barely! not really!) equipped to be a parent.

so each night in austin robb and i would lie in bed and look at each other with wide eyes going "are we sure we can do this??" it's a daunting task. and since i'm sort of on forced "baby hiatus" we can't help but double, triple check that we're sure this is what we want and that we're ready.

but can you ever really be ready for not sleeping? never finishing a whole meal or sentence or movie? ready for the constant, chronic guilt of parenting (guilt over day care options, guilt over health care options, guilt over not having enough money, time, or patience, guilt over not being enough of/being too much of a conservative/hippie parent, etc). argh!

this is why i always (impractically) sort of wished i'd just accidently wind up pregnant (something about responsible use of modern contraceptive methods makes this fantasy). weighing all these worries and still pushing ahead is hard to do! but if i was just (oops!) suddenly "with child" i know i'd just carry on with my bad self. sigh. you see what i mean?

but- on a more immediate note- i'm taking advantage of the baby hiatus by enjoying wine! margaritas! sushi! and all the blue cheese my heart desires!

And on a Lighter Note of Issues of Fertility and Baby Making

We Was a "We" and Now I'm an "I"

yesterday was a hard day. i went back to work for the first time since my hospitalization. it wasn't a hard day physically- i actually held up really well through a few small cases. but it was a really hard day, emotionally. i realized on my way to work that those 20 minutes alone in the car were my first alone since this all happened. my family and friends have been really sneaky about providing 24-hr 'sarah coverage' that i didn't realize was there until it was gone. so i arrived at work already a little sad, and then the first coworker i ran into revealed that she's 10 1/2 weeks pregnant and is just starting to tell people. and then i walked into the locker room where 3 more coworkers with their big, round, happy pregnant bellies were all sitting there and WHOOSH. it just sort of hit me.

but i made it through the day alright.

and then after work i went to my Gyn's office (i intentionally have started referring him to my "gyn" again instead of "ob") and i went alone. and it sort of killed me that on my previous visit i was there with robb and we were happy and excited and checking to make sure i was still full of life...but on this visit, i was alone and checking to make sure i was completely empty. evacuated. sufficiently hollow. and then it took them 4 tries to get blood, which hurt and was hard on me because they were commenting on my bruised and battered arms and "all this poor woman has been through" and i just don't want to see myself as a sickly, pitiful patient, ya know? so through sobs (mine, not his), my MD answered all my questions about when/if to try getting pregnant again, if i'll need high risk maternal fetal medicine to follow during my next pregnancy (no), and what to expect as my body changes with the hormone levels dropping, etc.

and when i got home, i just fell apart. i sobbed on robb for an hour. i felt the loss so acutely for the first time. coupled with my awareness of just how sick i was, how scary the situation was. it's been a lot to handle.

robb's been amazing. picking up all the slack around here, always saying and doing the right thing. being quiet when i need that, offering advice and support when i need that. doing all my bidding when i just can't make myself get off the couch. even watching stupid movies with me just to be with me doing normal activities. he grieved his own grief for the little snowpea while i was in the hospital, so now he's available to me to be sturdy and strong while i need him. (he actually has revealed to me that on the night that i first miscarried- thank GOD by some divine providence he was with me at the time- he stayed up all night sobbing...but i guess i must have slept, because i had no memory of it. but i hate that he was alone for that). i'm just so extremely grateful for him. and blessed to have him. i wonder if he'll ever understand just how much.

so today was a little better. my cases were fun and i have great coworkers who allow me to talk about all this stuff until i'm blue in the face. i cried in the cafeteria over breakfast a little, but no one seemed to mind.