I guess it would be easiest to bluntly start off with the basis of this post. The Wifey had a miscarriage.
It was only last Thursday when the Wifey told me the Baby was going to become a big sister. And the last week has been a whirlwind of emotions. But the most prominent feeling was that I was scared shitless.
I guess we could say the pregnancy itself was a surprise. If I could literally lay out everything that was on my mind, being a father again would be the extreme last thing. It would be the fat, un-athletic kid that gets picked for football. In fact, if someone were to put a percentage on the possibility of raising another child, it would be .01%.
The Wifey had an IUD (Mirena) implanted back when the Baby was born. Basically it's supposed to be this awesome form of birth control where it definitively eliminates the chance of me ever yelling the phrase, "what do you mean you happened to forget to take your pill this week?" And for almost three years, it was perfect.
But when the Wifey told me she was pregnant, I didn't know what to think. Maybe it was the initial shock but I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad that my social life was over again. I guess I'm such a strong believer in that everything happens for a reason, I took it as a sign. Maybe my indifference towards having another kid again solidified my acceptance by fate intervening and making the decision for me.
And over the weekend, the Wifey and I adjusted our life plans to accommodate the fourth. We even dubbed the little thing 'the Fighter' since it defied that .01% possibility and pulled a Danny Ocean and broke into the vault that held the Wifey's eggs. We discussed room arrangement, we went over how/when we would make the announcement. We even analyzed how the Baby would react. We prepared ourselves that the Fighter would be the exact opposite of the Baby. We braced ourselves for the Baby's extreme jealous rage for her mom and her toys.
It also happened that on Monday two of my co-workers announced they were expecting as well. And I guess I took that as a sign that everything would be okay. But the improbable fact that the Wifey was pregnant with an IUD implanted, it was an even higher improbability that the pregnancy would even be feasible. But yet we planned for the best. Or at least I did.
I could tell the Wifey was planning for the worst. I could tell her excitement was merely clouded by my excitement. Maybe she was only excited because I did want another kid. But I knew she was aware of the risks. The Wifey has always been a feverish researcher and I just blindly trust her. And I knew she was only cherry picking the good news and sugar coating the bad news. The Wifey went to the doctor every day to check her levels and due to the rarity of the pregnancy, her doctors proceeded with caution. And then today the Wifey texted me with the bad news, a simple " :( ".
I asked her how she felt and she simply said "sad." The same person who has never been short on emotion or never been afraid to tell me how she feels whether I care or not was just simply sad. And then I knew the extent of the emotional bond that was already established after only a few days; after only a few weeks of the Fighter existing.
I have had friends who have been much, much further along in their pregnancy and experienced the tragedy of a miscarriage so I can't fathom the magnitude of their depression. I've only known about the existence of the Fighter for a few days. But it's sad. It's tremendously heart wrenching. But it's merely an ounce of what my wife is actually feeling. And yet we sit on the couch watching television like nothing has happened. We sit here both knowing how scared shitless we truly are.