Pregnancy After Loss

Hot Girl Summer

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photo of person holding electric fan

SURPRISE! Somehow, it’s July. But the real surprise is, SOMEHOW, I’m still pregnant. This was unexpected. I guess for a normal person it would not have been unexpected, because of the whole, “takes 10 months to make a baby” situation of the human species, but for ME? Unexpected.

So here I am, sweating my face off, heat wave after heat wave, and… baby is still cooking.

Don’t get me wrong, this is extremely good news.

My expectations of the summer were either: 1. have a second dead baby in a row and be absolutely devastated waiting for a bus to drive through my window or 2. Have a VERY early baby in the NICU and live back and forth from the hospital or I guess bonus #3. Be hospitalized and on bed rest for as long as we can keep this baby in.

But alas, there was a sneaky #4 I had no expectation for: still be pregnant, living at home, and working at my job, business-as-usual.

So that leaves me here, with hot girl summer, or as I should call it, “no-plans-girl-summer.”

I made no plans for this whole season because of the aforementioned 3 ways I saw this summer going down, but I also made no plans because I’m scared to leave the radius of 10-minute-Uber-to-hospital, and also because going to shows/Central Park/outdoor events etc., means lack of available of bathrooms. Also, did I mention it’s been routinely over 100 degrees on the heat index? No thank you.

I have settled into a comfortable routine of:

  1. Wake up in air-conditioned bedroom
  2. Take meds
  3. Transition to air-conditioned living room
  4. Work on laptop
  5. Go to air-conditioned gym if I can handle the walk there and back
  6. Watch tv in air conditioning
  7. Go to sleep back in air-conditioned bedroom

Plus of course the 3-4 doctor appointments per week, which, depending on weather and time of morning, I am transporting myself there in an air-conditioned Uber, or an air-conditioned bus.

I must admit, it’s weird to watch people have summer plans all around me. There are people at lake houses, people on family vacations, people on wine tours, and of course 90% of my Instagram is back and forth to Europe to see Taylor Swift. Then there’s me, thankful to be cool, home, and pregnant.

Monday, I went to see my nephrologist and she seemed completely floored by how uneventful this pregnancy has been so far. She finished my appointment by saying, “your job right now is to do nothing. Don’t go doing something stupid like traveling to the Hamptons for the weekend, and getting stuck having this baby in a small hospital on the island.” This made me laugh harder than I had in weeks. She clearly does not understand my anxiety that barely allows me to travel downtown for fear that an ambulance wouldn’t take me to the hospital of my choosing. I will heed her advice and I will not be traveling.

The weird part about staying home and having no plans, is that most people are in a frenzy right before they have a baby. There are so many things to do! Paint the nursery, put together the crib and changing table. Assemble the stroller, host the baby shower, do the maternity photoshoot. (Funny sidenote, my sister-in-law asked when I was doing a maternity shoot and I cackled. I said, “when he’s alive.”)

For all of those reasons, people sometimes take off work before giving birth to “nest.” Nesting is for people who know (rightly or wrongly) that they are going to be bringing home a living baby. I am not one of those people. I am not sure, and I am sure as hell not ready. But I am ok with that, and I’ve come to terms with it.

I don’t want to sit around a house I have completely changed for the impending additional occupant, while I have no certainty this baby will make it out alive and think about all the things I do or don’t have, for a baby I may or may not have.

Since 34 weeks, I’ve been slowly putting little baby things here and there around the apartment. I consider it exposure therapy. I refuse to buy diapers, but I do have a fully-assembled baby swing in my living room. It’s a bit anxiety-provoking, since it’s sitting there empty, but it’s helping me wrap my brain around the possibility of having someone in it. At 34 weeks, 4 days, we picked up a bassinet from Buy Nothing. It is in our bedroom. That one was very difficult. For a few days, it was hard to walk into the room and see anything else.

I’ve also been working on a few need-to-do items on my to-do list, mostly around keeping this baby safe and healthy. Since I know that is my absolute #1 priority, I have been swallowing my fear and anxiety, and doing the scary tasks anyway. For example, I took a 4 hour online-CPR class for infants. Last year, I signed up for an in-person class, and the next week I had to write them to cancel. While I think hands-on experience is better than an online class, I was a bit relieved when I saw I was too late for the live classes and they were all booked up. I can’t imagine myself in a room with normal moms-to-be who are doing this class out of a sense of obligation, not because they actually know babies who have died from SIDS. I have also begun researching/interviewing pediatricians. Again, I didn’t do this because I wanted to, but because my doctor told me to, and because I know I will need a doctor who understands how important it is for me to keep my son healthy.

The whole “buying stuff for the baby” is still an issue for me. I have found that second-hand things are far easier for me to stomach. The idea of going to a store and walking through a baby aisle with happy and naïve moms-to-be, the idea of having this baby boy specifically in mind while I pick out an outfit and picture him wearing it, I just can’t do it. I see a cute “going home outfit” and I imagine him dead in it. I know that sounds horrible, but it just is what it is. So, I have trouble with purchases.

Here are some things we have: a lot of second-hand clothes, a secondhand baby swing, a secondhand bassinet.

Here are things we don’t have: diapers, wipes, a stroller and a car seat.

For some reason, the items in the latter category seem like a hurdle the height of Mount Everest. For diapers, if he’s dead, who will I put diapers on? For strollers, stroller shopping is the last thing we did for Maliyah before I went in the hospital. We decided on one and then never got to buy it. I just can’t bring myself to get one. And the car seat is the hardest one of all. It’s the one thing required by the hospital for you to take your little one home. But what if we don’t get to take him home? Buying a car seat seems so overly confident, it seems like tempting fate.

I know it’s close to the time when these things are necessary, but the advantage of 1 day delivery and living in NYC is, it’s not actually urgent. It feels like it when I see people on social media, but it’s really not. By the time I leave the hospital, if I have an alive baby, everything will have been delivered (pun intended).

So for now, I will do nothing. I will stay inside in the air conditioning, I will drink water, and I will go to my doctors’ appointments. I will wake up every day, lay completely still in bed until I have reassurance that he is alive, then I will thank all of the gods in the universe, and then I will distract myself. I am getting VERY good at Sudoku.

(Written at: 35 weeks, 6 days)

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Grief and Pregnancy Loss

I Couldn’t Care Less. Really.

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People use the phrase “I couldn’t care less” pretty liberally. Once something horrible happens to you, though, you really do start to care less. About friends. Family. Work. Everything. And yes, I’m aware this is a symptom of depression, but those aren’t the things I will be talking about here. I’ve been publishing a lot of super depressing blogs, and everyone loves a light-hearted listicle, so here is a list of things about which, as Cody Rigsby from Peloton would say, are “not that serious.” Care less.

I could not care less about:

  • Hard clothes – Let’s be honest, clothes with zips, buttons, and no stretch were left in 2019 pre-Covid. But now for sure. Why would I wear something that isn’t comfortable? Like what is the point; who am I trying to impress? Zoom doesn’t show my boobs, why would I wear anything besides a sports bra? No one sees me from the waist down, so hard pants are a hard pass. Related:
  • Makeup – Makeup is problematic because it is far too close to your eyes. It is sometimes literally ON your eyes. When your eyes double as unpredictable waterfalls, it really makes no sense to put anything on them. What a waste of time and waste of sleeves when they are ruined as you wipe your eyes with them. Also, who am I trying to fool? Makeup is usually used to cover imperfections, but it isn’t covering anything in my case. You can read my face like a book and no amount of CC cream is going to cover it.
  • The size/shape of my body – Almost all women, nay, ALL women think about the size and shape of their bodies at some point in their lives. Some think about it at all points in their lives. I must admit, I did too. But I have also done some serious work the past 10 years trying to unlearn those thoughts and behaviors. And I’ll say something here: if there’s one thing that being on the verge of death teaches you, it’s that the container size of your body does not matter at all. Like not one single bit. If your organs work, you are Gucci, as the kids would say. I have a LOT to say about body size/body image/body changes in pregnancy, but for now I will just keep it at this – it doesn’t matter and I couldn’t care less.
  • Leaving the air conditioning on – Climate Warriors come at me. I used to care about this. I was so conditioned (pun intended) to turn off the AC when I left the house to save electricity. First of all, it saves money. Second of all, it saves the planet. But realistically, it’s only 3 months of the year that you need it. That’s not too much money. And I’d rather be comfortable. Not much nowadays brings me a modicum of comfort, and this is one of the things that does. There are so few things in this world that are predictable but one thing is for sure: I hate the heat and I am far more irritable when overheated. Summer is the worst season. I said what I said. If I can do something so minor like leaving the AC on when I go to the gym so it’s still cool when I come home, it’s worth it. I also used to turn the AC off in the room I wasn’t in. Nowadays, I move around a lot. Namely, I move from curled up in a ball crying on the couch, to curled up in a ball crying in my bed. I need options! All rooms must be cool and ready just in case.
  • Cancelling plans – Sorry not sorry. If I don’t feel like it, I’m not going. I’d rather be miserable at home than miserable out and wanting to go home.
  • Making the bed – In 2022 I had a goal to make my bed every day. Everyone loves to climb into a freshly made bed. But when you’re in and out of bed so often, it loses its luster. Let’s be honest, I’m climbing in there whether or not the sheets are pulled up. Also, how many times in one day can you make a bed? Waste of time.

There are many more things I don’t care about, but these are my top 6. Are there any things you all don’t care about? Life-altering trauma or not, I think these 6 should rank high on everyone’s list.

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Big City Living

Dante’s Inferno Subway Car

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20 days into summer and it officially happened to me. The most dreaded thing for all New Yorkers. And yet the most inevitable as well. No, I do not mean finding a roach in your apartment (inevitable). Or a mariachi band on your commute home after a 14-hour day (also inevitable). This is arguably worse than both: an un-air conditioned subway car.

You have heard the stories, and if you have ever lived through a summer in this steamy, garbage-stenched city, you have probably experienced it. This living horror story never happens when you are on your way home, minutes from a cold shower, or on your way to a pool where you can cool off (supposedly a few of these exist in Manhattan-proper; it’s like a unicorn). No, these 5-10 minutes of Dante’s Inferno hell ALWAYS happen on your way to work, or worse, on your way to an important business meeting or interview. This is Satan’s way of making sure that when you show up, you smell half like a homeless person, and half like rotting garbage, and your hair is plastered to your face to really accentuate your cheekbones and the mascara-tinged-sweat that is still slowly dripping down the sides of your previously well-made-up face. Am I exaggerating? Maybe slightly. But for the most part, no. This is by far one of the worst things that can happen to a New Yorker in the summer besides finding out your landlord is raising your rent 15% (this actually happened to me).

In the past, I have recounted several experiences in stream of consciousness, from my one and only half marathon, to my thoughts leading up to my first date with my emoji boyfriend. Dante’s Inferno Subway Car is one of those highly-relatable phenomena that lends itself to second-by-second analysis. Every second’s thoughts being mostly, “GET ME THE F*CK OUT OF HERE.” Read my thoughts below and let me know in the comments if you’ve ever had the same feelings.

  • “YES. Only 2 minutes until the next train. Maybe I’ll actually be on time.”
    • Note: You are ALWAYS running late when this happens, it’s like Newton’s 4th Law
  • “Empty car? This is too good to be true.”
    • Note: It’s ALWAYS too good to be true.
  • *doors open* “Hmm, the air coming out seems warm, is it warm?” *walks in car*
  • *doors close* “OMG I HAVE ENTERED THE GATES OF HELL. SOMEBODY HELP ME.”
  • “I have 3 stops, can I make it all the way there in this steam room of rotting human flesh?”
  • *looks around* “There are at least 10 other people in here that are managing. I can do this.”
  • “I CANNOT DO THIS. HOW ARE THESE 10 PEOPLE DOING THIS?!”
  • “3 stops to go, though, is it worth switching cars?”
  • “I’m switching cars at the next stop.”
  • *peeps through window to next car, sees it’s completely full*
  • “Ok maybe it’s actually better in here with all of my room! It’s hot, but at least no one else is in here.”
  • *legs slide down seat because of sweat between them* “It’s not better. Still 2 stops to go? I gotta get out of here.”
  • *train stops between stations* “You’ve got to be kidding me. Am I being Punk’d?”
  • *looks around, sees no cameras, sees a lot of other miserable people* “Why is no one else sweating as much as me?”
  • “Do you think they would notice if I wiped my face with my shirt?”
  • *wipes face with shirt* “SHIT I forgot I was wearing foundation. Now my makeup AND my shirt are ruined.”
  • “Who even cares, no one will be able to see past the fact that I look like I casually popped in a pool on my way here.”
  • “Remember that time when I blow-dried my hair this morning? LOL”
  • “Well at least I remembered waterproof mascara today. Was my eyeliner waterproof?”
  • “They should really advertise this specific situation in makeup commercials.”
  • “No, they shouldn’t. No one would buy a product with anyone in the commercial looking like how I look right now.”
  • “I know my parents constantly remind me that subways never had AC back in their day, but ‘their day’ was BEFORE GLOBAL WARMING WAS A THING.”
  • “What if I actually die in here? How long does it take to die from heat?”
  • “Ok, I’d probably faint first. That might be more comfortable than consciousness.”
  • “Is it possible to make oneself faint?”
  • “Then I’d definitely be late, though. But it would be a great excuse.”
  • *doors open* “One stop to go, switching cars!” *runs faster than I have in years of going to run club*
  • “OMG I never thought I’d get to heaven and yet here I am.”
  • “Are wet t-shirt contests still a thing? Because I think I’m #Winning”
  • “Does this count as my workout for the day? I think I sweat more in the past 7 minutes than I did in Spin class last night.”
  • “What are the chances I dry off before my destination? Probs slim to none.”

Well, there you have it. In all of its #sweatzilla, disgusting glory. Note to the tourists visiting NYC in the summer, BEWARE the empty subway car, don’t even bother trying to do your hair, and ALWAYS bring extra deodorant.

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Big City Living

Sizzling City Summer

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Yesterday was approximately 1009 degrees Fahrenheit. Who knows what that is in Celsius (really…  no one knows), but the point is, the second I left the house, I regretted it. And I started to count the hours until my next shower. 13. FML. If you haven’t noticed, New York City hates the heat. They also hate the cold, and love to complain about pretty much anything, but they especially hate the heat. That’s proven by our rise in violent crime in the summer. We get hot, we get angry, we literally kill each other. Seems logical.

There’s no avoiding the stifling heat. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s not even summer yet. That means it’s about to get EVEN WORSE. The heat is everywhere if you choose to leave home. And for some of us, due to our jobs, it’s inevitable on a Monday morning. The first sign of heat (besides the insufferable humidity and difficulty breathing) is the look on everyone’s faces. Gone are the friendly Christmas-in-New-York-Isn’t-The-Rockefeller-Tree-So-Pretty faces. New Yorkers are known for perfecting the RBF, but this version of Heat RBF is next level. Example of unspoken Heat RBF: “if you move one inch closer to me on this subway, I WILL CUT YOU.” No words are necessary. The eyes say it all.

Although the heat is undeniable and unavoidable, some places are worse than others. Here’s a list of the worst places to be in the heat:
  • Outside. We already covered this. Avoid at all costs. But if it’s impossible to avoid, reduce your outside time to small doses. That means if it’s more than 5 blocks away, it is now out of your “summer radius.” Enter Seamless/GrubHub/instacart. It’s worth the delivery fee. You’ll save that money in the amount of water you’ll save by not having to shower for the fourth time that day.
  • Rooftops. Plainly speaking, they are closer to the sun. Also, heat rises. It’s science. Some of us still believe in it. If someone asks you to grab drinks and chooses an outdoor rooftop in summer, with no air conditioning, they clearly hate you. Decline politely. Or not politely. Automatic swipe left.
  • Subway Stations. Now guys, I know this is unavoidable since we are already not walking more than 5 blocks. But if at all possible, avoid this. Can you take the bus? Subway stations are notoriously hot. Standing on the street in the heat and sun, though counter-intuitive, is actually much cooler than descending into this Hades-like death trap. It’s comparable to the depths of hell, I’m pretty sure. When people tell me I’m going to hell (happens a lot on the phone at the rabbi job), I generally tell them I am well prepared because I’ve been in a subway station in the summer. If it’s a subway station that has the option to wait upstairs, do that until the last possible moment. TRUST ME. Is it worth a cab? With MTA fares increasing every month, the answer is, probably yes. Or use Via. It’s only 5 bucks! (And you can get $10 free if you use my code emily5s6e #ShamelessPlug #HelpMeImPoor #InsertReminderThatIWentToLawSchoolForNoReason).
  • My Spin Class. The YMCA has been having some trouble controlling the temperature in the Spin room. 33 people. 33 bikes. 4 fans are simply not enough. So far, no one has fainted in my class but it is only a matter of time. I accidentally closed the door for 3 minutes (one song), and the mirrors in the front of the room completely fogged up. I drew a heart with my finger. But what I really wanted to draw was “KILL ME.” For some reason, nobody left before the 60 minutes of class were over. I would like to credit my amazing playlist (follow me on Spotify!), but I think these people are just SUPER-driven. If I wasn’t teaching, you can bet I would have pranced out of there by the second song.
  • A Subway Car with No AC. At this point, most New Yorkers have read about the epic F Train Near-Massacre last week. Everyone’s worst nightmare: the subway was between stops with no wifi, and it lost power. No power = No AC. People were stuck for almost an hour. They stripped off their clothes. They asked for help by writing on the fogged up windows like in my spin class. They screamed. They cried. Horrific. This phenomenon of subway cars with no AC requires its own blog post. For now, just know that as a rule of thumb, this is the ultimate thing to avoid.

Long story long, there’s no good place to be in New York City in the summer. It’s crowded, it’s hot, and it’s way too small. There are bad places, and there are worse places. My advice: make friends with someone who has a house in the Hamptons. Then tell me who they are, because I’ve been here 7 years and I haven’t found one yet. Godspeed, fellow New Yorkers, it’s going to be a scorcher. And please, for the love of god, do not forget deodorant. 

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