Sometimes it's best not to ask for advice. Like when you're 37 and pregnant, for example, and you can't decide whether or not to do an amniocentesis. Hypothetically. And your gut tells you the baby is fine. And your screening scores tell you, really, the baby is fine. But you ask your friends. And everyone has a story about this one who miscarried because of the amnio and that one who had a baby with Downs Syndrome even though the Nuchal Translucency reported favorable odds. And then your head is full of stories instead of your own good sense.
So you end up shrieking on the phone at your poor midwife, a woman you refer to as Mary Poppins, for not returning your calls when a decision must be made because the window of opportunity is closing. Hypothetically. Though, in your defense, it would have been nice if she had called you back five days ago when you first called to express your anxiety and gave you a little of the support that you needed to make this decision before all the panic set in. And she apologizes profusely for being so unavailable and it is not like her at all, which it is not, and you both cry. And she sets you up with an appointment to see a genetic counselor, which you do, and even your husband comes because he can tell you are hanging by a thread . And the genetic counselor is lovely and helpful and informed and is probably wondering why you're even there since all signs point toward a normal, healthy baby. At birth anyway.
You breathe a sigh and remember your gut. And the next day you see your midwife for your 20 week appointment and you both cry again and you try to explain how emotional you are in this third pregnancy because so much is at stake and how could it be, what with the law of limited good, that you might end up with three perfectly healthy babies when so many babies are sick? Or can't even get conceived?
And she reminds you that you are worthy of many good things in your life, a concept that is hard for you to embrace. And that goodness can be mysterious. And you remember the conversations you've had with your husband about chasing perfect babies and how there are no guarantees. Even an amnio can't guarantee that something won't go south at delivery, or age 2 or sixteen or forty-five. Or ever. There is no going back.
So you surrender to the knowledge that control is only temporary and more than likely a total illusion. And you breathe deeply and trust that this baby and this experience is exactly as it should be and that you are prepared for whatever comes.*
* prenatal testing is a very personal experience for every woman/couple. This was mine. Everyone comes to their own decisions based on many many factors. For some, the decision is not quite as fraught with anxiety. We do what we have to do.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
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7 comments:
I hear ya, girlfriend. I'm 38, pregnant with Number #2. Know that you aren't alone!
so hard, but don't stress. listen, if you did the 12 week US scan (nuchal) in combo with the two blood tests...they plug that and your age into an equation and if your risk is lower than the risk of the amnio then DON'T proceed...
this is so much better and robust than looking at the test individually...lots of hugs!
logic and reason, those stinkers, have a habit of running away together on vacation during pregnancy - just when women need it the most - and let emotions totally rule the roost. oh how i remember. i wish i could give you a huge hug right now. thinking about you.
Beautifully expressed. We are totally with you in your decision. Surrender to your inner wisdom, and the support of your husband and family and providers that you are taking care of yourself and doing the best you can to have a healthy child. And that is just fine. Wish I could hug you right now, too.
Oh, honey. I hate that you're on this emotional roller coaster that never seems to end, even as you wave frantically to the ride operator, hoping he'll just slow the hell down so you can catch your breath and THINK before the next gigantic hill comes. And all I can offer is this: even though you got on the coaster with wobbly knees and a queasy stomach, something deep inside you told you to suck it up and climb aboard. And you have to trust that instinct because your heart and those inner whispers are so much smarter than your head (and that's saying A LOT with you!). So, now you've got 18 (or so) more weeks of ups and downs and screams and giggles. And I so hope that you can just throw up your arms, feel the rush, swear a bunch and enjoy the rest of the ride. Sending my love...
i have heard a version of this story before. panic vs. gut feeling, common sense vs science.
I'm sorry you had to wrestle with all that. Go on in confidence now. halfway there!
I am late to this post, but just thought I'd share...we were advised at week 20 that something (serious-and acutally a possible handful of serious things) might be wrong with Erin. It was suggested that we get the amnio and could use the results to decide whether or not to terminate. There was never any question whether we would get the amnio, etc. or not. I prayed my a*s off, and was eventually at peace with whatever might or might not be wrong with her, but boy were those some dark times.
She's upstairs sleeping as I type, and other than being obsessed with playing inside the fridge and putting her hands in the toilet, there's not a thing wrong with her.
We never told anyone that there might be a problem. After she was born, we both told our mothers about this, but it's still hard to talk about now. The doctors who delivered this information to us were somewhat cold and harsh, (it was not my normal OB) and that didn't help at all.
I think you did the right thing for your family, and I understand how easy it is to really go off the rails when you're pregnant. I hope you are peacefully enjoying the remainder of your pregnancy, because before you know it, you're going to be spending your day shooing someone away from the toilet (or the fridge, the garbage cans, etc.) Savor the remainder of this exciting time. xo, Becky
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