- The dx isn’t that bad.
- I wasn’t really pregnant at all.
- It can be fixed.
- They got my ultrasound confused with someone else’s.
- This isn’t happening to me.
- This is just a nightmare that I will wake up from.
- If I close my eyes for a minute, I can still feel my daughter wiggling around.
- This wasn’t supposed to happen!
- I’ve had enough pain with infertility already!
- What did I do to fuck this up?
- How come all these losers can have healthy babies and I can’t?
- Why didn’t I get an amnio?
- Why did the doctor wait until after Christmas when I had publicly announced the sex?
- Why me? Why my daughter? Why not someone who was going to abort regardless?
- Why did it have to be spina bifida?
- I hate my doctor for finding this.
- I hate my body for failing me.
- I hate my baby for being sick.*
- I hate telling people I “lost” the baby.
- I hate people thinking this was a miscarriage.
- I hate the pregnant girls and teenage parents at my school.
- I’m angry with people who tell me that I’ll get pregnant again quickly and with no problem.
- I’m angry with people who tell me that God has a plan, or that He won’t give me more than I can handle.
- I’ll do anything to be pregnant again.
- I’ll do anything to have a healthy baby.
- I won’t ever drink again.
- I won’t ever get pregnant again if I can just have this one healthy baby.
- Please let there be a God who is taking care of my baby.
- Please let there be an afterlife so that my loved ones are with my baby.
- I’ll do anything so that my future pregnancies are healthy.
- What if I realized my daughter was sick sooner?
- What if I had a CVS?
- If only I’d… (fill in the blank).
- Why take a shower?
- Why get out of bed?
- Why do teeth need to brushed anyway?
- Eh. I’m not answering this phone call right now.
- I don’t want to eat.
- I feel like throwing up.
- I don’t want to leave the house.
- Time for an anxiety pill!
- I’m never going to be able to get pregnant again.
- I’m broken.
- I’m never going to be a mother.
- Everyone hates me – either for ending the pregnancy or because I can’t have a healthy baby.
- It’s over.
- I had my period.
- I ovulated.
- I’m able to look at my daughter’s footprints.
- I’m able to use the phrase “my daughter.”
- It’s going to be ok.
- No matter what, I’m going to love my husband and we can get through this.
- I’m not going to let this stop me from being a parent.
- I’m not going to let this taint my love for her. I love her, no matter what.
- It’s ok for me to be sad. I’ll always miss her.
- It happened.
*Oh. My. God. Did I just type that? Do I really mean that? I typed it, but I don’t really mean it. I think, that in spirit of honesty, I’ve entertained that thought in the back of mind, but I’ve never verbalized until just now. I think that perhaps this manifested itself when I was scared to touch my belly, winced when I felt her wiggle, and refused to look at ultrasounds at the specialists’.
For the record: I do not hate my daughter or my pregnancy. I hate the fact that I she wasn’t healthy and that I was put in the position to make this choice.