Past trauma, current terror: Tomorrow is table time

I was feeling so confident and strong yesterday. And today I am so very not. Nothing like having been traumatized repeatedly in the not-so-distant past to keep you good and weepy when table-time is in the not-too-distant future.

Most of yesterday, I was golden. I felt nauseous and uncomfortable. I had a headache. So everything was going great!

And then I suddenly remembered that I have not remembered to take my baby aspirin for what might be as many as six days. I changed the placement of my prenatals and DHA to the fridge, so it is no longer in the cabinet by the baby aspirin, and I’m almost sure I have been neglecting to take it ever since that decision 6 days ago. The insanity of—after having taking it for a couple of years now, off and on but for long stretches—forgetting during my baby’s sixth week of growth is something I can’t comprehend. How could I do that?! Well the answer is simple: I have been very forgetful lately, most likely due to pregnancy. I also know that Dr. S called Lovenox “quackery,” so he must not think much of baby aspirin (perhaps they put it on the protocol “just in case”) and I recall my favorite doctor at Columbia, Dr. Choi, saying that there is really no point in taking baby aspirin until the 8th week. I cling to these two bits, my little life rafts, in my sea of self-blame and uncertainty.

Of course I feel I have the power to fuck everything up with one misstep. Of course I do. How could I not? This is what the past has “taught” me.

I am primed for loss. I am trying with everything in me to be confident and enjoy this happy beginning, but I lose my footing here and there. Am forgiving myself for that right now. Have to. It’s understandable to feel this way. I am healing, I can feel it, but the road is not smooth.

On top of the baby aspirin situation, today I feel almost completely not-nauseous. After a week of nauseated hell, this is strange. Maybe I am learning how to eat in a way that relieves nausea, I tell myself—my meals are smaller and more frequent. Maybe I am grazing more without really realizing that I am, and that’s helping. DH reminded me tonight that I was not nauseous one day last week, and it freaked me out. Okayokayokay. But give me a break—it’s hard not to worry.

And the unspoken object of my terror is really at the root of all worry last night and today: the table. Which I will get up on tomorrow morning. My feet will go in the stirrups, the wand will go inside, and the picture of my uterus will pop up on the screen. Yesterday morning, I was feeling like a rock star, ready for the table, ready to see my baby. But about an hour ago, I collapsed on my couch, sobbing in real terror. I hate that table. I hate those stirrups. I have experienced the darkest, most soul-splitting moments of my life on that table. So vulnerable. That’s what I feel up there. And what I feel now.

I’m sure pregnancy hormones are not helping me staunch this torrent of tears. Nor is the fact that we are so isolated out here on this island, and I have to travel by train an hour and a half to see any of my friends, or travel by car 10 hours to see any family. I haven’t seen my family in a year now. Today is my beloved Ma-Maw’s 86th birthday. They’re having a party for her, as they do every year, and once again, I am missing it, and I am here alone, preparing dinner, and preparing lunch for tomorrow at a job I am growing to not love for various reasons. It’s a feeling of entrapment all around—and I know my own psychology well enough to pronounce that entrapment is one of my my tried and true patterns, pre-infertility, reinforced a millionfold by infertility experiences, and faithfully with me tonight. I want to be in Ohio right now. I want to be able to cry on my mom’s shoulder for just a little while. I want it to be okay that I am so scared of that damn table that I picture running and hiding in the woods forever, like a little girl.

But I’m not a little girl. I’m this baby’s mama. I have to pull it together for her.

I will.

Leave a comment


  1. Honey, hang in there. You are not alone! It’s is completely understandable that you feel the way you do, but don’t let it overwhelm you. You are strong. You can do it. You will SCHOOL that damn table. I’ll be thinking about you, tonight and tomorrow. Stay tough for your little star.

  2. Thinking of you xoxo

  3. Just remember your own post about the dogs and that this is just the post-traumatic stress talking. You’re fine. Baybina is fine. It’s going to be fine :)

    • Ha! Yes. I am certainly that poor traumatized dog, seeing electric fences everywhere I look. Thank you for reminding me that I might be able to leave my enclosure after all, I just can’t quite believe it yet.

  4. Well, this brought tears to my eyes. It’s not fair that pregnancy can be fraught with such anxiety for some, while others are blissfully naive to the experience of loss. I hope so very much that tomorrow will go well for you, that the nausea will come back and stay (if only for your peace of mind!), and that you find some comfort to see you through the fears.

    • Ah, thank you, friend. It has been a wonky couple of days, and I don’t like the cold scary places anxiety takes me. No, it’s not fair! I want to enjoy this. Maybe I’ll get back to enjoyment soon. The other possibility is too hard for me to contemplate.

  5. Oh hun, I’m so sorry to read your anxiety and fear about this, I know that feeling too well. Try to take each moment at a time. Think of the little bean like a sprouting oak tree with strong, deep roots. My docs tell me the baby aspirin isn’t even effective until 8w too, so there’s a common thread there. The way you feel is entirely justifiable and understandable so give yourself a huge pat on the back for being so strong xx


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