My post about what 365 days might bring was meant to be the post to let everyone know what has been happening recently. I made an announcement about being pregnant once we hit the second trimester, so somehow I had to explain why I wasn’t pregnant anymore. And to be honest, I have no interest in going into a lot of detail about it beyond that. This is an autism parenting blog, after all- a topic I keep to for at least every other post, right?
But I have to address the amazing responses I received, mostly private, from friends and blog followers. I feel terrible that I was not in a place to immediately respond to all of them. Many of you sent me kind words. Many of you told me about your own experience with miscarriage or infertility. While I am still wrapping my mind around the experience, I know it’s the infertility factor that is a little harder to accept. I actually laughed when the doctor said to call him immediately if I find out I am pregnant again. But I learned to accept it once before, and I will get there again. A few of you truly understand that. Some of you had no experience at all, but took the time to try to find the words anyway. Or took the time just to say you didn’t have any words.
So I want to say thank you to all of you. I feel as if I owe you all some kind of return heartfelt story, but it turns out I am emotionally challenged. So I am going to confess to that instead. My coworker will really appreciate this. She desperately tries to pry emotion out of me, and this is as close as she will get. I will continue to deny her hug requests. Forever.
This past month has been troubling at best. I would like to blame it all on hormones, but I know it is a little more than that. I’m not worried, because it seems I have been drenched in proof that everyone has it worse than I do. In the past three years, this probably ranks number three on my “sometimes life is bad” list. Still, in spite of a determined effort to avoid any moments of being left alone with my thoughts, I have failed- at least twice a day, every day. But in those moments of failure I have managed to work out a few things about my world.
First, I figured out that there is no way I could ever live without my husband (I kind of already knew that). I have mentioned before that my brain is quite good at regulating my mood and keeping me from dark places. But for the first time ever, I have started to suspect that it may be too good at it. In fact, I am now even more scared of losing my husband; because while I think I will always avoid falling into a pit of despair, I am not sure what lengths my brain will go to in order to keep me from it. I would probably need a whole new blog to explain that. All it really means is that I may not be as perfectly balanced as I once thought.
Second (and possibly related), I learned that I have a real problem with showing emotion, and that is never going to change. I know I am not alone on this. This blog is the best I can do. You can’t see me. But I now know that I actually fear showing emotion. Not as much as I fear vomiting- but it is a close second. I would never cry in front of anyone other than my husband. And sometimes, not even in front of him. Not even with my closest friends. Not even at funerals. I suspect I might cry if I vomited in front of someone, but we are just never going to find out.
My recent failure of crying at the doctor’s office felt, in the moment, almost as traumatic as the reason I was upset. In spite of the constant parade of staff forcing tissue boxes on me, I fought it with all my might. When I left the doctor that day, the first phone call I made was not to my husband, but to my boss. I was still in the parking lot. I needed to be calm, and talking to Dave might have compromised all that. I was completely fine for those minutes, as if nothing had happened. I told him how I would get everything covered and which days I would be gone. All business. You know why? Well, partly because I don’t want that kind of interaction with my boss. But also because I still cringe every time I think about the day I called my boss and my voice cracked when I said my sister had just died. I was mad at myself for that. What is wrong with me?
I guess I want to go on the record as being a person who has never shed a tear over anything, and is a complete schizoid (or one of those disorders I know nothing about). It sounds silly, but that’s where I am stuck at. Probably forever. Which is weird, because I am actually quite emotional about things. Over-thinkers always are. I am overly empathetic, which makes my fear of showing emotion particularly tricky- especially at movie theaters. But if I ever cry in front of you (and I won’t), just know that I want to die at that moment.
So needless to say, I have been walking around in fear that someone will ask me about the baby, because I might involuntarily show emotion. And I work in a place where I deal with regular clients who are aware I was pregnant. I should have received a medal for those first few days at work. I may not be emotional, but I am not made of steel, either. With my other bad experiences I didn’t have to deal with people knowing and confronting me all the time by mistake. I don’t want to talk about it; but it would also be nice to be recognized for my incredible ability to carry on as normal, in spite of how far away from normal I feel.
Third, I have the pleasure of knowing a lot of really awesome people who I try not to take for granted. Since moving back to Michigan, we have had quite a few rough spots. For all of these things the same people were there for us. And, the same people were not. It’s okay, but some of you are just better people. This realization may change the whole course of our future.
But what I really wanted to say is thank you for all your wonderful support. Let’s agree to never speak about my feelings in person. Instead, let’s get back to figuring out why Teghan is so determined to break the front window with a broomstick right now….because we seriously cannot afford a new front window.