The Fear of Hope

This past week has been difficult. My anxiety has been ramping up again, which has triggered my depression. Sometimes it sneaks up on me without even realizing that it's even there. I had been feeling off and not like myself, but I just shrugged it off as anxiety. It's was when, for the fourth day in a row, I didn't want to go to school. I love my job and I have had moments where I just wanted to keep driving past and not go in. However, never so many days in a row, did I just not want to face my students. It was the moment I wanted to hide under my desk and cry, that I realized something had changed.
   Luckily, I had an appointment with my therapist that night. My session proved to be enlightening. Sometimes, just saying it out loud, acknowledging the depression, helps to take some of the weight off. It came to light that my fear is getting in the way of hope and bonding with this new pregnancy. It's not uncommon and completely understandable, but it's not how I want this pregnancy to go. I would give anything to reclaim my naïveté. To feel like, we are out of the danger zone, this baby is a guarantee. It's not. Having that knowledge sucks. It's sucking the joy right out of this pregnancy. How do I combat this? How do I attempt to reclaim some of the joy? How do I fight the fear of hope?
    I shared a few things I didn't do during my pregnancy with Fi. Things that, in the long run, I was happy for. Other loss moms have suggested to do something different this pregnancy. Something that others do. Take the weekly belly pictures, write letters to the new baby, purchase items for the baby. When I spoke about this to my therapist, I voiced that inner demon in the back of my head. What if this ends tragically and I have a pile of pictures I never want to look at, letters I want to burn and more stuff to add to the room we hardly open? Before she could say anything, I answered my own question. It's going to be devistating if this should end badly, whether we have the "stuff" or not. So I promise to "fake it till I make it" and try one technique to try and bond.
     Since I think having tangible items will give me something to look at and hold to remind me that I am pregnant ( seriously, sometimes I forget and a lot of times I don't even really FEEL pregnant). So each week we progress, James and I are making it a point to purchase one item for the baby and not put it "in the room." We need to keep it visible. Today we went to target to find something to buy. It was the first time I had been in the store and not avoided the baby section, let alone enter it willingly. It was HARD . I couldn't look at it for long and just wanted to grab something off the shelf and leave. James pushed that it should be something we like and we will use. I asked to walk away. We did a little Christmas shopping. The. We found ourselves in the sports section. James found a 3 pack of Patriots onesies that would be the perfect size for this baby and it's first football season. I took it and we bought it. At this point, I'm totally faking it and I hope that by going through the motions, eventually something will click.  Eventually, I will stop saying "with any luck" "hopefully" and knocking on wood.  Eventually, I will stop cringing when others take about baby E. It's difficult for me to even put a name to this little thing. When others say it, the little demon voice of fear speaks up and sings a song of doubt that only I can hear.
     Some have asked how they can help. Honestly, I don't know. The best is to listen, give me hugs and reassure me that I'm not insane or insensitive. Encouragement when I act like its normal and ignore the fear, understanding when I let some of the fear out.
     We were told that we will be delivering at 37 weeks. So as of today, only 24 more weeks to go. It seems like an eternity, but after years of teaching, I've learned that April vacation comes fast and furious.
Here's to 24 more gifts for baby E.