Finding my hope

We have our plan. But I am so worried that our plan is going to change.  I think it’s a reasonable worry. I feel like very little has gone according to plan so far, and if I mentally prepare to go to the hospital at 34 weeks and deliver at 37 weeks, it just won’t happen.  And the disappointment on top of whatever bad news changes the plan is just too much.  I am ok with the plan- I have second thoughts at times, but when I get to thinking, it seems like the best for our baby.  I actually like the idea of being in the hospital (ha! I say that now…) for some time as a way to prepare.  Getting into the hospital is one step closer to meeting the baby and facing whatever comes afterwards.  And three weeks is a nice long time to let that all settle in and seem real.  So now that I’m hoping for that time, I’m worried I wont get it.  Something might happen before 34 weeks.  I could go into labor.  Baby could stop growing. I could have a stillbirth.  And all those things would expedite birth, and then I’d recover and eventually have to face real life sooner.  With our plan, if I can make it, I wouldn’t have to face whatever new reality (like returning to work after my baby has died or a baby that is terminally ill) until at least April.

 

I know some people may think I am being negative, but I am still planning that my baby will probably die.  On paper, having hope sounds like the “right” or “best” thing to do.  But honestly, having hope in the traditional sense feels wrong for me.  We have had such a rollercoaster of hope, then no hope, then hope, then no hope.  I need to choose one- either stay up or down.  It’s the up and down that hurts so so much. One of my coworkers said there is a fine line between being optimistic and being realistic.  So much truth in those words right now.

 

We had another ultrasound this week.  In short everything is fine.  Baby has grown enough.  Fluid is the same (now I have 0.9cm of fluid instead of 0.  It doesn’t change anything, but its nice to think my baby has a little cushion).   For a few minutes, when we thought it had been longer between growth scans (my fault, I thought it had been almost 4 weeks.  Stupid placenta brain. It had been just under 3 weeks), we though the baby hadn’t grown much.  But once we realized my mental math mistake and re-measured and recalculated, turns out, baby’s growth is fine. 3lbs 7oz.  32%  (previously 2lbs15oz and 54%).  But I did have a few minutes of sadness mixed with panic.  Usually if a baby stops growing, they would deliver and help the baby grow on the outside.  But in my case, the answer is not that simple.  I’ve been working on not thinking about the “what if” scenario- what if the baby had stopped growing?  What would we do?  For now I’m trying to focus on the take home message- growth is fine.  Slowing a little, which is not surprising in a baby with Down Syndrome.  I just don’t want it to stop.  I want our plan to work.   That’s some sort of hope, right?

 

The fact that I get up every day, go to work, see friends, exercise, run errands and keep busy is also my hope.  If I lose this baby I can not imagine how I am going to get out of bed.  And so just getting up everyday is how I hope.

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3 thoughts on “Finding my hope

  1. Just sending you love MOC. No need to defend how you are processing or thinking about this. No one else but you knows how hard this is. Xoxo

  2. I second Emily’s comment. I stumbled on your blog from neonfresh. I’ve read every post and have cried most of the way through. I cannot imagine how hard this is for you and your family. I have no words to offer, just the support of a stranger.

  3. Pingback: Sometimes knowledge is power and sometimes knowledge is pain | Expecting the Unexpected

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