This is going to sound SO dramatic (because it is), but that doesn't mean it's not true: ob appointments literally drain the life from me.
I hate going. I hate sitting in that room and waiting for the doc.
Today I thought we might get a good look at baby, and maybe, just maybe, be able to tell the gender. It was a long shot but I was holding out hope. Instead we got a doppler, a 2 second scan after they couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler, and a full body exam. I'll spare you the details. But, instead of the hopeful feelings that I had going into the appointment, I came out feeling drained.
Baby is just fine as far as they can tell. They can't tell a whole lot though, because the ultrasound technology is too old. I really like my new doctor, I do. She's funny, and nice, and she HAS let us have extra ultrasounds just for our peace of mind. But, I realized today, that her ultrasound machine just isn't specific enough to tell us much of anything, other than something being drastically wrong. If something were, we would have to be seen by fetal diagnostics.
"Can I have another scan at my next appointment?" I ask.
"Um. Do you want one?"
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. As much as ultrasounds terrify me, I need them to breathe during pregnancy. And it bothers me when someone doesn't understand why.
It's like everyone's forgotten about Sam. (Not really, but you know what I'm saying.) Of course, he'll never really be forgotten. But no one thinks about him like Jamey and I do. No one remembers what it was like to hold his little body until he stopped breathing, because they weren't there. Very few people know what it's like to shake every time you enter a dark room with an ultrasound machine because that's where your heart broke in two. Even fewer know what it's like to have to wait 20 weeks to find out the most important or most heartbreaking news of their lives.
And just because Mira is here, it doesn't mean our fears just magically went away.
In fact, it's almost more intense this go around, because (although we *know* this is ridiculous), we almost feel like we're tempting fate. Our first one died, our second is happy and healthy...shouldn't we just be satisfied with what we've got? What makes us deserving of having more children?
You could roll your eyes and say 'Well that just makes no sense."
I know. I know it doesn't. But it doesn't take away those feelings. And having a faith in God doesn't taken them away either. I have no doubt that whatever happens, we will be okay. I have no doubt that God will be there for us if we ever have another sick baby. But I have no doubt that we are not exempt from further pain because of the loss of Sam.
I'm so, so tired. I'm thankful that every day isn't like this. But I wish for once in our lives, we had been able to walk away from an ultrasound going, "Wow, that was amazing. We're so happy and fulfilled." Instead, we walk away from every ultrasound going, "Well, we didn't see anything wrong this time, we'll check again in a month."
It sucks. There is just no other word for it.
I'm not crazy, and I'd prefer if no one ever acted as if I am. I'm just a little stressed, and don't you think that's understandable? If one of your children fell over sick and you had only one hour left with them, don't you think from that point on you might just be a little more stressed too? I don't think it's too ridiculous then, that after every ultrasound we have, I have to go home and just sleep as I process every single emotion I've felt leading up to it, and after. And believe me, there are a lot of them.
I don't need attention, sympathy, or advice, just understanding.
It's pretty simple.
I hate going. I hate sitting in that room and waiting for the doc.
Today I thought we might get a good look at baby, and maybe, just maybe, be able to tell the gender. It was a long shot but I was holding out hope. Instead we got a doppler, a 2 second scan after they couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler, and a full body exam. I'll spare you the details. But, instead of the hopeful feelings that I had going into the appointment, I came out feeling drained.
Baby is just fine as far as they can tell. They can't tell a whole lot though, because the ultrasound technology is too old. I really like my new doctor, I do. She's funny, and nice, and she HAS let us have extra ultrasounds just for our peace of mind. But, I realized today, that her ultrasound machine just isn't specific enough to tell us much of anything, other than something being drastically wrong. If something were, we would have to be seen by fetal diagnostics.
"Can I have another scan at my next appointment?" I ask.
"Um. Do you want one?"
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. As much as ultrasounds terrify me, I need them to breathe during pregnancy. And it bothers me when someone doesn't understand why.
It's like everyone's forgotten about Sam. (Not really, but you know what I'm saying.) Of course, he'll never really be forgotten. But no one thinks about him like Jamey and I do. No one remembers what it was like to hold his little body until he stopped breathing, because they weren't there. Very few people know what it's like to shake every time you enter a dark room with an ultrasound machine because that's where your heart broke in two. Even fewer know what it's like to have to wait 20 weeks to find out the most important or most heartbreaking news of their lives.
And just because Mira is here, it doesn't mean our fears just magically went away.
In fact, it's almost more intense this go around, because (although we *know* this is ridiculous), we almost feel like we're tempting fate. Our first one died, our second is happy and healthy...shouldn't we just be satisfied with what we've got? What makes us deserving of having more children?
You could roll your eyes and say 'Well that just makes no sense."
I know. I know it doesn't. But it doesn't take away those feelings. And having a faith in God doesn't taken them away either. I have no doubt that whatever happens, we will be okay. I have no doubt that God will be there for us if we ever have another sick baby. But I have no doubt that we are not exempt from further pain because of the loss of Sam.
I'm so, so tired. I'm thankful that every day isn't like this. But I wish for once in our lives, we had been able to walk away from an ultrasound going, "Wow, that was amazing. We're so happy and fulfilled." Instead, we walk away from every ultrasound going, "Well, we didn't see anything wrong this time, we'll check again in a month."
It sucks. There is just no other word for it.
I'm not crazy, and I'd prefer if no one ever acted as if I am. I'm just a little stressed, and don't you think that's understandable? If one of your children fell over sick and you had only one hour left with them, don't you think from that point on you might just be a little more stressed too? I don't think it's too ridiculous then, that after every ultrasound we have, I have to go home and just sleep as I process every single emotion I've felt leading up to it, and after. And believe me, there are a lot of them.
I don't need attention, sympathy, or advice, just understanding.
It's pretty simple.
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