Wait for Yours

As some of you readers know by now, I am no longer pregnant. We went to the doctor today, and then for an ultrasound, and the doctor performing the ultrasound found absolutely nothing inside me. No sac, no baby. She said she saw the bleeding I'm having right now as basically a period, and that something about the egg meant that the pregnancy was very short-lived.

I'm feeling sad, most definitely. But I also kind of suspected this. I really hadn't felt any symptoms of being pregnant. I could say I was tired, but when am I not tired? If I'm honest, it wasn't much beyond my usual doziness. But no nausea, no sore or growing parts. Sure, I could be the luckiest, most asymptomatic pregnant lady ever, but if you combine my feeling like my usual self with the spotting-turned-bleeding, it does make a girl wonder what's going on. I'm grateful not to be dealing--at least, not for now--with a pregnancy that can only be maintained by a level of activity just inches beyond bed rest. Would I be saying that if that were, in fact, the pregnancy I was dealing with? Of course not; I would be thanking my lucky stars that I was able to hold on to the baby. But sometimes it's our rationalizations that get us through.

A phrase has come to mind over the last couple weeks--one that my teammates would call out to kickers on my Zog Sports Brooklyn kickball teams. If the other team's pitcher launched the ball to our kicker and the kicker let it go by, other members of our team would clap in support of the kicker's discriminating eye, and sometimes would say: "That's right, wait for yours." There's a pitch for you, and that one just wasn't it. But yours is coming. I always appreciated that idea, as though the not-kicking were based on wisdom and patience, rather than less admirable qualities. I almost never let one go by without trying to kick it--make of that what you will. During the uncertainty of these last nearly-two weeks since the spotting started, I've tried not to hold that phrase too close, wanting to believe that there's nothing to wait for! This one is mine! But now I feel ready to embrace it, hoping that the pitcher sends ours from the mound soon.