I got mad at the baby

I got mad at the baby yesterday.

 

Chris and I spent the weekend in Vermont.  Our friend has a family ski condo where we stayed.  The weekend was centered around “Romp to Stomp,” a snowshoe race/walk that benefits breast cancer.  Originally I was going to be on call this weekend, so Chris was to go up with our couple friends and I’d miss it.  But since work has been kind enough to keep me off call, I can use the time in ways that help prepare for our road ahead.  It was a nice quiet weekend away.  The three of them did the race- waddling off quite quickly in a small pack of racers.   I did the walk, the same 3k trail, but starting 30 minutes after them at a slower pace, surrounded by other participants in pink tutus and bandanas as a salute to the tatas. I had no pink, but I do think I was by far the most pregnant woman walking.

 

The walk felt similar to running- it was definitely a good work out.  I was huffin’ it pretty good. Lots of up hill and then down hill.  From the get-go I could feel my pubic bone getting angry.  There’s a joint in that bone that gets loose for some people in pregnancy- a response to the body’s hormones and the pressure of a growing baby.  But that looseness can cause pain, especially with certain activities- its called symphaseal pubic dysfunction.  It was pretty uncomfortable but I powered on- all the while telling myself:  “Labor is uncomfortable too. This is practice.”   I enjoyed it, but afterwards I suffered a bit all day.

 

When we came home, we all were pretty spent.  We pretty much conked out and napped for a few hours.  When I woke up I lay there waiting for baby to move.  I had been too preoccupied to really notice movement all day, so I wanted to take some quality time to check in.  After twenty minutes or so of not feeling anything, despite some poking and prodding, I got out of bed and ate some chocolate and started drinking water.  An hour passed by and I still wasn’t sure I was feeling movement.  I started freaking out.  Had I been home, I think I would have called my midwives.  I told Chris how nervous I was and he tried to reassure me. He’s so calm.  But when I get worked up, it can be hard to talk me down.  I knew if I waited until like 8 or 10pm, I might feel more, because that’s when the baby is most active.   But all I could think about was that I wasn’t ready to lose the baby.  We had a plan.  I need more time. I want to meet the baby.

 

And then the baby moved.

 

The relief was huge.  The closer we get to our hospital admission, the more burden I feel to make sure the baby is moving.  The more worried I get that we wont make it to the admission.

 

And then I got mad at the baby.

 

I had wanted the baby to move so bad.  I needed the baby to move.  But the baby wouldn’t until s/he was ready.  Apparently this is an early parenting lesson.  We have no control over our children.  Once baby was done with a nap, s/he got going.

 

It happened again today.  I just get so scared so easily.  Baby is allowed to sleep, but I wish I could just communicate with him/her and say “Move! Just a little so I know you’re there!”  I need to know the baby is ok.

 

Five more days until I check into the hospital and the burden is no longer mine.  I’ll let the nurses and the monitors let me know baby is fine.  It’ll be reassuring for me that other people are ensuring that my body is doing what it can to nuture this baby.  I know i’ll be trading this worry for another, but the closer I get the more wiling I am to trade.  Five more days.

 

***********

I wanted to take a minute and say thank you to the many people who email/call/text/comment/facebook.  And those who just read.  I have been terrible at responding, but please know that I read each of your comments and notes and appreciate them so so much.

 

 

And lastly, an old friend was diagnosed with lung cancer within the past year.  I’ve known him since college and he was in med school while I was in nursing school at the same university.  His was the first familiar (and friendly) face I saw when I arrive my first day.  He was recently published in the New York Times regarding his scary diagnosis in the setting of little data about lung cancer in someone young like himself.  And he’s in medicine- knowing so much (too much?) about it all.  I have ridden my rollercoaster regarding my baby’s diagnosis.  I can not imagine riding that rollercoaster regarding myself.  An excellent read.

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/01/25/opinion/sunday/how-long-have-i-got-left.html?_r=0

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “I got mad at the baby

  1. You sound so sweet and genuine. I feel like I will be in the exact same boat as you once my little one starts moving around more frequently. I start to worry if I get even the tiniest cramp. I was worried because I used windex to clean a mirror the other day. All these tiny panic attacks already…Haha

    I am glad your little one moved for you eventually, though. And you are right- we are learning lessons about not being able to control everything that happens with our little ones. Ill have to remember to look at it that way.

    I am sorry about your friend. My father had lung cancer for a long time and he beat it- it is a miracle what modern medical science can do for us now. 🙂

    • that you. His piece came out at an interesting time for me- I desparately wanted a prognosis for my child, but no one could give me one. I wanted a number- 50% chance, 10%, 1%? something so I could just wrap my mind around it all. His article made me think more about what a prognosis means.

      and thank you for reading back posts! everytime you comment on an older one, I go back and read- and it’s a special treat for me too.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s