Seventeen.
So thiiiiiiiiiiis is what they mean by the 'boring' part of the pregnancy. I *finally* feel great, almost myself (except for the inner knocking that still catches me off guard) and if the doctor would allow me, a nice, long run would be perfect.
I've been into school in week seventeen setting up my new classroom in big shirts that conceal Baby Stan. So far, so good. I did meet another teacher that asked me the dreaded question of a babyloss momma:
"Do you have any kids?"
Now, we BLM's could answer this, in my opinion, two ways. The first is to respond with, "Nope, no kids!" followed by an awkward smile. Or, "Yes, but they are dead." Or a variation of that. Option two usually leaves the asker uncomfortable, changing their mind about meeting you, and backing slowly out of the room.
I chose the first one today. The truth about Quinn and Baby Christmas will come out to the staff eventually, which puts me into a whole NEW category of whispers behind your back.
For now though, I'm still not comfortable telling anyone I work with, including my principal. Can I just play this entire pregnancy off like a celebrity - neither deny nor confirm? Will I ever feel comfortable enough to celebrate Baby Stan with the world, like I did with Quinn? Maybe I fear that I'll jinx it. Or, that I know it can all be taken away in a second, and I want to protect myself from reliving the very public loss of Quinn. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, if I were to lose Baby Stan at this point, I would want to do it privately, and not in front of people that don't really know me, especially the kids. Then, the whispers behind your back get weirder and weirder.
I know that I can't think like this, and that I need to expect that Baby Stan will come home with us. As the latter half of the 2nd trimester rolls around, which is when we lost Q, I can't help but to catastrophize this part of it. This is what happened last time, so automatically your brain autopilots into thinking it WILL happen again.
But, at least I'm not feeling sick anymore.
I've been into school in week seventeen setting up my new classroom in big shirts that conceal Baby Stan. So far, so good. I did meet another teacher that asked me the dreaded question of a babyloss momma:
"Do you have any kids?"
Now, we BLM's could answer this, in my opinion, two ways. The first is to respond with, "Nope, no kids!" followed by an awkward smile. Or, "Yes, but they are dead." Or a variation of that. Option two usually leaves the asker uncomfortable, changing their mind about meeting you, and backing slowly out of the room.
I chose the first one today. The truth about Quinn and Baby Christmas will come out to the staff eventually, which puts me into a whole NEW category of whispers behind your back.
For now though, I'm still not comfortable telling anyone I work with, including my principal. Can I just play this entire pregnancy off like a celebrity - neither deny nor confirm? Will I ever feel comfortable enough to celebrate Baby Stan with the world, like I did with Quinn? Maybe I fear that I'll jinx it. Or, that I know it can all be taken away in a second, and I want to protect myself from reliving the very public loss of Quinn. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, if I were to lose Baby Stan at this point, I would want to do it privately, and not in front of people that don't really know me, especially the kids. Then, the whispers behind your back get weirder and weirder.
I know that I can't think like this, and that I need to expect that Baby Stan will come home with us. As the latter half of the 2nd trimester rolls around, which is when we lost Q, I can't help but to catastrophize this part of it. This is what happened last time, so automatically your brain autopilots into thinking it WILL happen again.
But, at least I'm not feeling sick anymore.
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