Related to my previous post about the weight of the wait, there’s another topic that been heavy on my mind. Our little gummy is doing great, but I can’t help think about all the things that are riding on this little one. As you can imagine, another loss this late in the game would be, obviously, devastating for us. I simply refuse to fathom what that would be like, but still, I can’t help but go over the coming months and how that loss would impact it.

After losing our last bean, my world came crashing down on top of me. I found myself unable and unwilling to take part in family events. I couldn’t even bring myself to see my cousin’s new baby. It was a harsh reminder of something that came so easily to them, and was quite the opposite for me. Our bean would have been born early January, and their baby was born in September. We would talk about how awesome it would be to see our kids grow up together. Now, to me, their baby is just a physical reminder of what we lost.

I hate that I feel that way about it. Part of me feels petty and selfish, the other part is just protecting myself. It sucks. I miss my cousin and I’m sure, he misses me, but this isn’t something I can easily share with someone who may not “get it.”

I feel that there is so much riding on our little gummy. There’s some huge life events coming up, and Shelby’s pregnant belly plays a huge part in them. To me, it completes these life events. Makes them whole. Makes them even more special. Things are TOO perfect right now, and it scares me.

  • One of my close friend’s wife is due in September. I want to be happy for them, but I can’t help but feel bitter. This blow is lightened by the fact that Shelby is due in November. I’m afraid a loss would cause me to break off all ties for a long time, and I’d be angry at myself about that. We’re still dreading the baby shower, but at least it will be tolerable since it gives us “our” shower to look forward to.
  • I will be the best man for my brothers wedding in September. Shelby will be a bridesmaid. Ever since they asked us to be in the wedding party, I’ve fantasized about Shelby’s pregnant belly, in her beautiful (hopefully!) bridesmaid dress as she walks down the isle. There is something spiritual, and beautiful about her being pregnant as another family member ties the knot. It’s the growth of our small family and a beautiful representation of love.
  • In related to the above, engagement parties, bachelor(ette) parties, bridal parties will all be joyous occasions in the coming months. I want to be a part of it.
  • This may sound selfish, but we’ve been trying to have a baby for so long, and I want to be the first in my family do so. I know that my brother and his fiance will try right away, and it will kill me to be robbed of being the first. This also brings fears of what it will be like to be an uncle after loss. I can’t fathom it.
  • If we experience loss, I’m afraid that I will withdraw from everything. I’ll become a grumpy old man who wants to get the damn kids off my lawn. I won’t want to go anywhere, do anything, or see anyone and I am afraid at how long that will last. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years will all be canceled. I won’t want to see friends or family at that time. I know it will kill my parents to see that, but it will have to be done.

This list weighs heavily on my shoulders, but none of it could compare to the agony of a second loss. The timing of this pregnancy couldn’t be more perfect and I long to experience these events while our baby is baking in Shelby’s oven.

Okay, we paid $15,000 more than we needed to by doing a shared risk program, but we were lucky to be given so much medication for this cycle for free it softens the blow. Even spending that 15k more than we needed to seems fitting to me. The infertility gods wouldn’t give up the opportunity to stick it to us one last time, but surely this is where it stops, right?

Fate, I’m on my hands and knees, begging you to let me experience this year of happy times.

Let Shelby be a mom, let me be a father to this little gummy.

You’re not cruel to rob us of these happy times, and of parenthood.

Are you?