I don’t cry.
I didn’t cry when we talked about the future or what that meant for us.
I didn’t cry when we decided to finally “try and see what happens.”
I didn’t cry during the previous 6 months when every test was negative.
I didn’t cry when I finally saw the 2 pink lines. Even after 3 tests.
I didn’t cry when I realized how everything that we’ve ever known was about to change.
I didn’t cry when I told my husband.
I didn’t cry when I thought about being able to do one of the announcement ideas I had saved on Pinterest.
I didn’t cry during those next 5 weeks while I had to wait for the doctors appointment.
I held it together. Because, I don’t cry.
I didn’t cry thinking about worst case scenarios. Or even the happy ones.
I didn’t even cry when the doctor held the portable monitor to my stomach on April 24, 2017.
Tears started to well up in my eyes when a heartbeat was found and the doctor smirked. I wiped away a tear as I finally released the breath I had been holding for weeks. That breathe which contained the fear of no heartbeat. Not because I was having complications but because I was finally getting excited.
Tears welled up in my eyes during the ultrasound that same visit when I finally got to see a picture of what I’d been hiding for the past 9 weeks. Happy tears that we could confidently tell our secret.
But, I did not cry. Sure there were tears, but not a sobbing, needing a tissue, emotional cry. Just tears.
I didn’t cry when the technician started talking in medical terms. Terms I hadn’t heard of or even been aware of. Which was shocking considering my nightly What to Expect Google searches.
I didn’t cry when the technician printed off a series of ultrasound photos and left the exam room to show the doctor we had just met 20 minutes prior. I didn’t cry when the doctor appeared in the doorway. Or while we talked. Or when I anxiously demanded the additional test he mentioned.
I didn’t cry on the drive home while I tried to look out the window and not at Mitch.
Because I don’t cry.
But, when I was finally alone.
In my car.
In the old Bilo Supermarket parking lot.
Something came over me and I cried.
Weeks worth of crying. All at once. And there was nothing I could do about it. The more I tried to stop myself the more upset I got.
I wish it had made me feel better. But it did the opposite actually.
Because I don’t cry.
We had to wait 3 weeks, about 21 days, roughly 504 hours, to find out that everything was okay. One simple blood work test refuted all the fears we had to unnecessarily endure.
I am still stunned as to how all of this played out. Maybe one day I’ll write a more in depth post about it and how I truly felt but it was such a dark time that I don’t care to re-live it in full right now.
Long story short: As we were checking out and scheduling our next appointment we were offered an ultrasound that day. We thought we were lucky to snag an early ultrasound but in reality that was not the case. The technician noticed something during the exam but should have never been looking for it or alarmed us by even mentioning it to us at only 9 weeks pregnant. No one wants to hear the words “possible abnormalities” when they are staring at the ultrasound screen of their baby – let alone their first pregnancy appointment of their first child.
I feel silly being dramatic about this but for a person who is naturally negative like myself – it just reaffirmed my fears that something bad was going to happen. Even when we learned that everything was okay I couldn’t relax. I was a nervous wreck for every doctor appointment after that, especially the ultrasounds. Sure, I probably would have been nervous even if that didn’t happen, but it just gave me more of a reason to worry. That ultrasound tech robbed so much joy from my pregnancy. Which again sounds dramatic, but at the time it was.
Luckily, we had a happy ending. Even though I went into labor unexpectedly at 36 weeks.
**I wrote part of this post after we received the results of the blood test and it came back negative. But because I was so afraid to jinx myself I didn’t post it, or look at it again until now.**