Seeking Normal

Update: My husband is a good man. He called from work this morning and has rearranged his schedule so that we can go in for a heartbeat check together at 2 PM. He doesn't think anything is wrong, quite the contrary, but he doesn't want me worried for no reason. Of course, now I am nervous over going to the appointment, but most likely, I will hear a beautiful heartbeat and can breathe again. For those of you that have commented or sent e-mails, I am so grateful for your thoughts and prayers. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I am still in conflict as to what to do today. The nurse has offered a listen to the heartbeat this afternoon, but my husband cannot make the appointment. Of course, it is in an emergency, he can, but he is really busy at work and the constant appointments of the first trimester really impacted his effectiveness. And he has been at every single other appointment. He will be at the next two, which are the next two Mondays. He could go in, but it would be so much easier if he didn't have to. He also keeps asking me why I am so worried. I can't really put a finger on it.

I have no logical reason to suspect that anything is wrong with this baby. I have had the occasional light twinge of round ligament pain, but not awful cramping or any sort of sudden, sharp pains that have signaled other losses.

I have had no spotting. I knocked on wood, threw salt over my shoulder, and made sure there were no open umbrellas or broken mirrors around before typing that.

I have still had the occasional bout of morning sickness. As recently as last Friday, breakfast refused to stay down.

It would be extremely rare for something to happen to the baby in the second trimester, after hearing the heartbeat just three weeks ago. Not that I don't do small percentages, mind you, but it is statistically improbable that we would lose another baby after so many reassuring signs (see blog title above).

I have always been a worrier. I have always created the worst-case scenario in my mind. I have done it since I was a small child. In fact, when I was born, the pediatrician came to the hospital and examine me. His conclusion? As he handed me to my mother, he said, "You have an anxious baby here."

Worry is what I do. It seems to be woven into my genetic cloth.

And yet, I have wanted so much to not be a worrier. I was really looking forward, and trying so hard to be, a normal OB patient. When we were at our last appointment with Dr. S, he offered us an appointment in two weeks to check the heartbeat. We declined. We want to be normal. We have no reason to believe that we are anything but.

I don't want to feel as if I am choking on fear. I don't want to feel the panic closing in. I don't want the desperate tears that sometimes run down my face when I think about something happening to this baby. It isn't all of the time. Sometimes, I feel very happy and comfortable. But then something new will happen, like this pressure, and I will fixate and focus and wonder. I get distracted, I can't breathe, I can't think, I just google the same words over and over again, looking for the words that will soothe me. The pressure feeling is just always there, but now it has worked its way into a lump of fear that has settled into my heart, my lungs, my throat.

It sounds so easy on the one hand: Just go in. Hear the heartbeat, know it's okay. On the other hand: My husband can't go with me. What if something is wrong and I am all alone when they can't find the heartbeat?

Not to mention the fact that it almost seems like I am losing some sort of personal struggle if I give in to the fear. I want to conquer it. I don't want my previous losses to take anything else away from me. I loved those souls with all of my own. When I lost them, at two days after the positive pregnancy test, or 11 weeks, it ripped my heart into shreds. I never want to forget what we have lost, but I want to embrace the future. I don't want to live in fear.