I’m a 39 year old child and family therapist living in Portland, Oregon. My husband and I have been trying to conceive for 5 years, and in that time I have had 5 miscarriages. I am totally enraged by this most of the time and have recently been encouraged to write it all out, so that I stop going crazy. I’ll let you know how that goes.
The title of this blog comes from an attempt to explain to my husband what it feels like to be waiting to take a pregnancy test. He and I are both giant nerds, and can totally get all hot and bothered debating, for instance, the modern distortions and altered applications of Cartesian dualism. So I was trying to describe this awkward and awful both-and unknown state, when there is absolutely no way to prove that there is a life or an absence of life inside your body. It is really, really weird, and it sends you to potentially unstable places. And at this special time, you are either a) pregnant or b) about to get your period, which are both substates that generally entail a great deal of feeling physically shitty. The superposition ends when the pregnancy test is either positive or negative and reality collapses into one possibility or another, but the experience of time before this collapse is endless and graceless and maddening and ugly and unflattering. Schrodinger’s Catbox. If it still doesn’t make sense, go look it up.