Saturday, January 9, 2010

K, the fidgety passenger

I'm making my way through Stirrup Queen's 2009 Creme de la Creme list and I'm blown away by these touching, beautiful posts. I felt particularly moved by Irish Man's post about pregnancy after loss, it truly captures it:
This pregnancy is like a smooth long-haul flight…we know that flying is generally safe, but we’re the jumpy passengers that freak everyone else out. Every rumble of turbulence makes us thing we’re going down.
My best friend has babies on command. She decides and then she is. A month after me she got pregnant on her first try. Two days before her first OB visit she casually mentioned how her symptoms were not as strong. I said nothing but felt my heart panic. When she returned from the visit she told me about her husband's nightmare through traffic, her funny doctor, and I had to interrupt her shouting but did they hear a heartbeat!?! She was quiet for a second and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes, yes!

I'm a jumpy passenger and lately I've realized I'm one of those people who tend to read scary stories of other people's flights and then wondering if my flight path will be the same. I read a few blogs about people who lost babies at 23 weeks and felt my chest constrict as tears slipped down my face. My cousin's wife just delivered a baby one month early, and suddenly my round ligament pain feels ominous. I find myself googling a few times each night about preterm birth. A lot of mothers who have lost babies to preterm birth say to trust your instincts about something being wrong but I'm flinching and jumping constantly. I don't know if I even have instincts when it comes to this anymore, just fear. This is not to say I'm not enjoying the pregnancy. To some degree I am. I love seeing my belly move when he does pilates, and I love listening to his heartbeat and watching my belly expand with each passing day. I love him so much and this love brings with it fear. I long to be like Susan at Sprogblogger who got the beautiful two lines and is already ecstatic, choosing joy over fear. In the alternative, I long for May, beautiful sweet May of budding flowers and chirping birds and my son: safe, healthy, happy in my arms.

6 comments:

  1. It is hard - so hard. I feel the same way and I called my docs whenever I felt like I needed to - it has gotten better but shit - it can be just plain scary. I had to quit reading about cord accidents and the like - it was increasing my anxiety like crazy.

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  2. I'm hoping you get a reprieve from the fear so you can just concentrate on enjoying this time. Of course, I'll likely be joining you in the jumpy passenger section before long. This zenniness simply cannot last...

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  3. It's very hard. It's hard to let go and just relax. I know you can do it, though. I know you can.

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  4. I feel the same way all the time. It's hard to talk myself down from the ledge sometimes. But it's getting easier with each passing week to hope that things will go well despite my neuroticism. Passing 24 weeks was a big milestone in terms of making me feel better - you're almost there!

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  5. may is not so far away and i think in about another month or so you will begin to feel a little more relaxed :)

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  6. No so strong here - I whine a lot! Thank God there are people online who understand the angst and can commiserate with me.
    And you just know I'd be much worse if I didn't have access to the u/s at work. Or if I weren't a doctor who gets the professional courtesy of extra official scans to keep me reassured.

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