Fears

I've always been a worrier. I've always been afraid of bad things happening. Since I lost my baby however, fear has been taken to a whole new level. It sneaks up on me when I least expect it and grips me like I can't believe. The last couple of days I had been so happy. Truly happy for one of the first times since the miscarriage, and definitely for the longest stretch of time since then. It was so refreshing and such a huge relief. I felt like a weight had been lifted and I was seeing things in a whole new light. I actually thought to myself, maybe this is it, maybe this is the turning point where the happy days start outnumbering the sad days. I figured since it had been 2 months now, and also since we are now clear to TTC again...maybe that was where the feeling of happiness and optimism is coming from. I thought, Thank God, b/c I was not liking this sad, distant person I had become. Then I went to the grocery store yesterday. And the sadness jumped at me from around every aisle. Babies. Pregnant women. Everywhere. I wanted to cry right there in the frozen food section. I wanted to run out of the store and hide. I could feel myself slipping back into that fog...where its all I can think about and I'm on the verge of tears at all times. I finished my shopping, went home...made it through the evening and went to bed. Thankfully, when I woke up this morning I felt like the happy me was back. Back to the happiness, the optimism. Ok...just a temporary hiccup, I thought, I'm still okay. I'm still SO excited about trying again this month and the possibility of being pregnant soon. Great! Yay!

Then I get called into a meeting at work. Still fine. Until the upcoming business trip is brought up. To Denver. At the end of the month. I've known about it since April...I've been preparing myself for it...I was beginning to think I might even be okay with it. (Background: The last business trip I made to Denver I was just over 6 weeks pregnant...when I was there I started spotting and cramping...it was the beginning of the end. My doctor insists flying and being in a high altitude city had nothing to do with the m/c. I'm still terrified to go there the next time I'm pregnant, but I can't get out of it b/c it is a critical aspect of my job and I am required to go there every 3 months.) So...back to today's meeting. My co-workers start discussing Denver...and the fear, it hits me. I am overwhelmed with a feeling of, I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can go there. How am I going to get on a plane when even though everyone insists to me that flying did not cause my m/c, I just can't shake the feeling that it did. How can I go to a city in which the most awful thing happened to me. What if I am pregnant again when I go. How can I get on that plane with another new life inside of me knowing that the last time I got on that plane my first baby was safe, secure and alive inside of me, but he didn't come home that way. How can I do that?! How can I take that risk? I know, I know...the flight and the high altitude location probably had nothing to do with losing that pregnancy. But tell that to the worrier inside of me. Because that part of me is too afraid to take that risk with another baby. Yes, I might not even be pregnant on this next trip out there. But that doesn't mean I won't be for the trip 3 months from now. Or the trip 3 months from then. Eventually...assuming I can get pregnant again...I am going to have to get on that plane with a tiny little life inside of me, who is depending on me to keep him or her safe and alive. How am I supposed to do that? I just don't know....