I woke up about 10 minutes ago. It’s 3:30am. I’m exhausted. My abdomen and back hurt profoundly. I want this over with. I want to move on with my life. I had to cancel hosting gigs at three shows over the weekend. Not only were they great shows with comics I like and respect but it’s also a loss of at least $200. I have a show this Thursday – also paid – and I have no idea how I will be feeling.
I’m supposed to work tomorrow. Supposed to train new associates at 9:30. Supposed to have a conference call at 10:30. And none of it feels important or meaningful. How the hell do I put on a happy – or at least, professional – face and pretend my world hasn’t ended?
Did I have too much caffeine? Are there things I should’ve done in the months before we conceived? Tests? I had no idea how quickly it would all happen. Who gets pregnant within three weeks of trying?
I do, apparently.
I’m still only lightly bleeding. I dread the clots. I don’t want to have to touch anything or pull anything out. My heaviest periods, before I went on the pill, were excruciating and scary. I imagine this will be similar.
I know I could be pregnant again in a matter of months. I’m turning 39 on September 24. I can do everything by the book next time. All the things you’re supposed to do, operating under the assumption that i could get pregnant quickly again.
Why do I have to be so fucking old?