What If?
Posted by Elizabeth
Sometime last summer, I made the first mention in these pages that I was thinking I might be ready to have a baby, a tentative whisper into the crashing world of the blogosphere. And at that time some wise reader told me that not only would having a baby bring change into my life, but that the ability to live one’s life “in pencil” was the biggest prerequisite for having said baby. These words were very reassuring to me. As the resident change-a-holic around here, I thought, “I love change. I understand change. I embrace change. And the ambiguity that “life in pencil” presents? Easy breezy!” But as my first trimester draws to a close this week I realize, in a stark and scary way, that my understanding of what it means to live one’s life in pencil is woefully incomplete.
During the first appointment with my nurse midwife an eternity six weeks ago, I was asked to fill out a family health history. Aside from some cancer and heart disease – standard American fare – my background is pretty run-of-the mill. No chronic diseases or major health issues here! When I got to the part of the form that inquired about any infant deaths, I had to pause and think. My dad had a brother who died when he was young from a defect related to malformed lungs, and Maikael’s dad had a son who also died, days old, due to a congenital problem. These are parts of our family health history that we rarely give much thought to – so much so that we even debated whether it was worth marking on the form – so imagine my surprise when my midwife followed up with a phone call the next day to gather more details about these situations. At the mention of “genetic counselor,” “perinatologist,” and “just to be sure,” every fiber of my being immediately went on red alert – and I don’t think the alarm bells have turned off since.
Despite my midwife’s repeated assurances that the chances of something being wrong are “remote,” it’s all but impossible to focus on the “what if” scenarios that dance across my mind (if not in the foreground, certainly in the background). I find them to be particularly acute while dreaming, when my rational mind, who has such catchy phrases as “I’m sure it’s fine” at its disposal during daylight hours, is rendered helpless when the lights go out. It’s then when nighttime visions of a fully formed fetus, with features as delicate as a seahorse but cast in frightening miniature, quite literally falls out of me without warning. These are awful dreams that shake me from my slumber in a sweaty twist of sheets in the middle of the night. It’s these moments where I realize that motherhood is uncertainty incarnate, that the best efforts to explain or pacify are for naught, and that I have no choice but to throw up my hands and say, “We’ll just have to see.” I know that I am not unique or special. Just as every life contains a cross to bear, so is every pregnancy touched by something beyond our control. But it’s how we treat these uncertainties that reveal how well we’re able to live our life in pencil.
This morning Maikael and I are off to the perinatologist for a detailed ultrasound, which feels less like a meeting with a medical professional than an appointment with fate. Hope will be divined not through the stars but through grainy images that I cannot interpret. I am both relieved and petrified that this interminable period of waiting is drawing to a close, ready and not-ready to hear the conclusion. The chances are good that my midwife is right, that I’ve spent the past six weeks worrying over nothing. But what if she’s wrong? What if there are no answers, but simply more “I don’t knows,” more “we’ll just have to wait and sees,” more “just to be sures?” What if? It’s these “what ifs” that show me just how much I have yet to learn about facing the unknown.
Do you agree with my assessment that “motherhood is uncertainty incarnate?” What situations have you faced in your own life that caused you to realize that you have much to learn about facing the unknown?
In other news, I’m pleased to announce that “Dear You,” my letter to this unborn baby who has already incited such worry in my life, won Momalom’s Love It Up Challenge! We here at Life in Pencil are honored to have been considered in the company of so many great writers and entries. Thanks, Sarah and Jen, for this award!
February 22nd, 2010 at 5:35 am
I am sure that these “extra meetings” will turn up little more than a healthy baby.
Motherhood is uncertainty incarnate. I do not know if I could have put it better. I have been through a myriad of tests due to health histories on both sides. I have not told people I was pregnant as I didn’t know when I had the xrays for a fall and the subsequent pain medication for almost two full weeks.
Good luck and enjoy your detailed look at your little one.
February 22nd, 2010 at 6:34 am
I’ll be thinking of you today:)
February 22nd, 2010 at 8:36 am
Uncertainty incarnate? Absolutely.
Appointment with fate? Indeed.
Good luck today. The unknown will always stretch before us. But, more often than not, it is a good place to be.
February 22nd, 2010 at 8:39 am
Uncertainty incarnate…there really is no other way to explain motherhood. I used to think that once I got past the 1st twelve weeks I would stop worring, well Madison is 2 and 1/2 and I still worry.
Good Luck and keep us all posted.
But this appointment will hopefully put your mind at ease and show you a perfectly healthy baby…
February 22nd, 2010 at 8:52 am
I’ll be thinking of you and Maikael and the baby today – you’re in my heart.
February 22nd, 2010 at 8:57 am
Life is just uncertain by nature. What we consider something “wrong” by no fault of our own may really be a higher purpose teaching us all that is “right.” It may take a lifetime and small reassurances everyday to teach us that.
February 22nd, 2010 at 9:01 am
I don’t know who came up the equation that children = hostages to fortune, but that is what springs to mind today, reading your post. You do all you can to nurture them in the womb and in the world, but in the end, there are zillions of forces beyond your control. Once, during a particularly perilous pregnancy, my emotional seesaw was in constant motion, like a metronome tipped on its side. The upside was hope. The downside was fear. I remember then thinking “Huh – the opposite of hope is fear.” It was a revelation.
I’m sure your midwife is just erring on the side of caution and all will be well, completely.
February 22nd, 2010 at 9:08 am
I am so impressed by your ability to capture one of the most important understandings of parenthood before you have even given birth: “motherhood is uncertainty incarnate.” Absolutely.
I had two high risk pregnancies, both of which set the stage for the ways in which I would lose control over aspects of my life once my sons were born.
I hope that everything turns out well at your appointment. I will be thinking of you.
February 22nd, 2010 at 9:43 am
This is my grandchild, everything will be fine. Not to worry.
February 22nd, 2010 at 10:48 am
You’ll be in my thoughts today.
You are so right about motherhood. I remember telling my mom, not long after Miss D. was born, how TERRIFIED I felt. Because before her, I thought I was strong enough to bear any loss. Sure, if my husband or my parents died, I’d be devastated…but I always felt like I would, eventually, be able to move forward and cope.
But then I had Miss D., and suddenly I didn’t feel that certainty, that faith in my own strength. I don’t think I *could* survive the loss of her.
I think I put it rather inelegantly, saying something to the effect of, “Now I’m totally fucked.”
The idea that something could be wrong with our baby is a horrible thing. I worried constantly. I’m hoping everything is perfect.
And congrats on your victory! It was wonderful!
February 22nd, 2010 at 11:41 am
You’re living in my world now. I don’t know how I have managed to cope with all the lurking ‘what ifs.’ I wake up every night with a ‘what if’ scenario.
When those fears slip into your wonderful daydreams, chase them away. Worrying about things that haven’t happened won’t make them not happen and they won’t prepare anyway.
Enjoy this time Elizabeth. Everything is going to be great. Trust the blessed hormones that pregnancy provides and relax.
February 22nd, 2010 at 6:05 pm
Motherhood is uncertain, and I don’t think I fully realized that until my son was born. He didn’t come as expected, and I told the nurse that he had already taught me to be flexible and adaptable, that I couldn’t control and plan everything. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Realize that while pregnant, you can be a lot more anxious than you would otherwise. Try to enjoy your last months as a couple before your world and sleep habits are turned upside down!
February 22nd, 2010 at 7:24 pm
Sending good thoughts.
February 22nd, 2010 at 8:03 pm
Elizabeth,
As scary as all this is, you must maintain a level of faith…because motherhood is a GIGANTIC leap of faith…I understand the worry, the what if’s floating in and out of your thoughts. For a short period of time, I thought my youngest had a brain tumor. The hours leading up to the specialist appointment were paralyzing, yet you put one foot in front of the other, take a deep breath and surrender. I hope all went well. Sending you lots of light and good wishes! Please keep us updated!
February 22nd, 2010 at 9:10 pm
Oh Elizabeth. The worry. The constant worry. It comes and goes like a tide. Foreground, background, foreground, background — as we drift through phases or reassuring our kids and reassuring ourselves. It’s exhausting, to be sure, but your refreshing outlook of CHANGE will serve you well. Very well.
I know that the fear comes on strong and it is hard to keep at bay at a time like this. I hope that everything turns out okay. The thought of a new little baby in your tummy makes me so desirous to share in those feelings of being a new mom. It is a blissful, heart-shaping experience. And what a wonderful, wonderful thing to have be able to write about it here on the blog. I only wish that Jen and I had had the foresight to start Momalom 5 years ago.
February 22nd, 2010 at 10:31 pm
I hope all goes well. After a routine ultrasound with my first, I was asked to come back because of stunted growth. When I went to the appointment, I was asked all sorts of questions regarding my background and if I had any history of Down’s Syndrome in my family. I didn’t. After a check, the OB said everything was fine.
Still, I worried up until the birth of my daughter. She was born healthy, luckily, but I remember the anxiety surrounding her birth.
February 23rd, 2010 at 5:23 pm
Motherhood as a never ending tide of worry which may ebb but when it flows it flows hard. Welcome!