Horoscopes & drive bys

The universe is sending me messages.

First, on the GO train this morning I was consuming a decaff coffee as a treat for making it out the door at all, and I had a mummy drive by! This woman said to me "caffeine is not good for your baby!" and I said "that's why this is decaff, thanks."

Not a very appreciated message.

Second, this, from Free Will Astrology:

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): You've probably heard tales about
people who buy an old desk at a thrift store or a used jacket at a yard sale,
then find a big stash of money in it when they get it home. You may also know
the story of author Byron Katie, who was wallowing in depression on the floor of
a halfway house when she had the epiphany that ultimately transformed her
into a brilliant, rich, successful teacher. I believe your fate in the
coming weeks will have elements of both of those motifs.

I really hope this is about the babe being okay, although as with most horoscopes, who knows. I mean if this baby dies perhaps I'll finish my novel before slitting my wrists. If you attack Persia you will destroy a great empire, indeed.

That's mostly a joke, but I'm not sure how I would make it through another late-term loss. I know infertile couples go through multiple losses even at late terms but I'm just not sure how they do and I'm very sure I don't want to know. Grief at a first-trimester miscarriage is definitely strong and valid, but I admit they never felt to me at all like losing Emily did, or at this point losing Noah would. I am not dicksizing pain; if you've miscarried it sucks.

It's just that for me the loss of Emily is in a different category, somehow. And I imagine that losing a child later on in that child's life is also in a different category.

So since yesterday I have been a little stressed out, because it seems like things aren't improving, at least not in the practical day to day details. Weight is still a problem; it still could be the placenta and if so that's not good; the way to avoid stillbirth is to track movement. I do feel a bit like I'm on the floor wallowing in anxiety. I feel that rather useless why me? why can't this one be easy? in the back of my mind. And yet, as problems go, this one is not huge, especially not at this point. This is not MRI results at Sick Kids. It's not ultrasounds showing big problems.

It's just something to keep watch on.

But the watching is hard. I'm worn out, really, from everything. And scared, of course.

I had a long labour dream two nights ago where I was pushing. God, my body remembers everything that's ever happened to it. I had the sensations of pushing again; I could feel those muscles again, and Emily's head. You'd think that I'd've learned this lesson in therapy as a survivor, with 20+ year old pain coming up and shooting through our body, but it still catches me - as it evolutionarily probably should - by surprise. In the dream though, there was no baby afterwards. Instead the hospital tried to send my home with a cat. And when I woke up there was all that loss of Emily again; my breasts ached.

I'd like them to ache for different reasons this time, that's all. If that's the gold in all this dross, hey. I'll have nothing - well little - to complain about.