One More Pregnancy Test

The morning comes. The Husband asks. I drag myself awake.

I dread this.

We discussed it the night before. The symptoms are there. Might be the new meds. Might not. And “using protection” only goes so far.

I want to hope, I want to freak out.

I want it to be me.

But I hate children.

Maybe because I can’t hold my own.

I’m frustrated that God would make me test again, even though I know He loves me very much.

Testing is a can of the sourest worms to me.

Testing means:

Pregnancy, which has ended for me in miscarriage three times prior, or
Not pregnant, which means I got my hopes up again for nothing

Am I a fool? Or a starry-eyed dreamer? Or both?

I want to be pregnant, but I don’t want to be pregnant.

The sensations I feel every day as an HSP are overwhelming enough.

Adding in pregnancy and children might be too much.

The last thing I want is to despise my own children. The last thing I want to do is be afraid of them. To push them away, or blame my Husband, who has loved me tenderly.

This is a nightmare of feelings every time it happens. Every time “the signs are there, better check”…

This is the part of HSP Womanhood I loathe. 15-20% of the population are supposed to be Highly Sensitive like me. I wonder how many of those experience the hurricane of hopes and horrors when they have to test for pregnancy?

I doubt I’m alone. But right now, I feel it.

UPDATE:

The test was negative. Guess it is the medication.

Now for the torrent of “poor me’s” that I hate. /le sigh/ My sweet Husband has brought me solidarity tea. I’ve apologized again, somehow feeling responsible for the same old “I got your hopes up for nothing” pangs.

He kissed me and returned to work.

I’m alone in my room drinking the tea. Deciding that blogging doesn’t cure anything, but the notion that another woman who’s danced in the same, sad thing might see this and think “I’m not alone” and feel a bit better… well, it kinda lifts my soul.

Heh.

I guess I am a starry-eyed dreamer, after all.