Why Am I So Scared?

Since the day after I got the positive pregnancy test, I’ve been scared.  Terrified.  A basket case.   Tahd was the one who started out uncertain (on the first day) and I quickly begged him to be excited and happy because I just “knew” in my bones this was all good.  And yet 24 hours later, I fell into a pit of fear and have been unable to drag myself out since then.

There are some distinct reasons my fear bothers me.  If you are not a faith-based person, it is alright with me if at this point you commence thinking I’m out to lunch.  😉   From a logical standpoint, I can totally see how I might look that way.  If you are a faith-based person, I think this will make sense at some level.  Either way, I’m open to feedback from both perspectives.

Here’s the long-ish version of the story.

When we began trying to get pregnant again in 2005, intuition told me early in the process that something wasn’t right.  I couldn’t suggest what was wrong, but I knew something was off.  When we had officially been trying for a year and were crossing the threshold of the infertility diagnosis, I had a very distinct experience.  I was taking Gabe for a walk, and while I pushed his stroller I was talking to God about my heartache over our lack of conception.  I remember the exact spot I was in when, through my tears, I sensed God almost audibly saying, “Don’t worry.  I’ve got this one.”  It was followed with a deep peace that pregnancy would come in time and that God wasn’t abandoning me.

Several years ago, I had two early pregnancy losses.  The short version is that these were very hard on me, came at a time in my life when my faith was particularly vulnerable, and I struggled immensely through them.  There was a distinct moment in which I believed I heard God tell me there would be no more miscarriages.  I tucked that away in my heart and didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to it because the first order of business was getting pregnant, and that proved to be a monumental task in and of itself.

Then Gabe’s 268 day thing.  The timing of that is so amazing to me.  How is it that exactly 268 days after he said those words I missed my period?  How is that?  It certainly could be coincidental, but coincidences of that nature – and in conjunction with the next thing – make it hard for me not to believe in a Heavenly Father.

In the fall, we geared up for a second ivf.  Tahd and I were both deeply conflicted about it, and I reached out to a friend who had previously talked with me about the first experience I mentioned.  I had told her about what I thought I heard God say on that walk, and after a tremendous amount of prayer she told me she felt God speak to her and confirm that same message in her heart on my behalf.  Initially, that’s all she told me.  However, when I reached out to her about the second ivf, she was much more specific.  In fact, she told me that she felt God had told her why we were currently unable to conceive and told me when she felt God told her we would be able to conceive.  There were two potential time frames from her conversation with God.  This pregnancy falls into the first time frame, with the projected delivery occurring during the second time frame.

How is it, with all these very specific experiences, I can continue to live in fear?

For us, this is pretty big stakes – something we’ve wanted and invested in – both emotionally and financially – for a long time.  The thought of having it and losing it is monumentally painful.  I know it’s hard to fully let go when you’re in a high stakes situation.  I know I’m spotting and that’s never a great thing, and it definitely gives me reason to hesitate.  I know I’ve had two miscarriages before which increases my odds of miscarrying again.  I know I’m older now than I was when we had Gabe.  Based on our ivf experience I know I don’t have a lot of eggs left.

But I don’t know how I can have experienced my list of positives and still choose to dwell on the list of negatives or the risks.  How can I choose fear over joy?  Do I lack faith?  Am I just a pessimistic person?  Do I need to better learn how to enjoy the blessing of today?

So basically, that’s what I’m doing – wallowing in a pit of fear.  We have an ultrasound scheduled for Friday afternoon and are hopeful about seeing a heartbeat.  In my head I know I’ll eventually be okay regardless of the outcome.  My heart, however, is afraid of breaking again.