I couldn't decide on a title for this post, because this week felt like so many different things for me.
I realized this week that the interesting proposal of a few weeks ago will, in all likelihood, not come to fruition. One of the benefits of living with my parents during the last few weeks would be to have someone familiar to our children caring for them when I have to go to the hospital to deliver. My husband would still be working, and would meet me at the hospital. In theory, it would be convenient, since we'd be living with them. But my mother has activities (both work and recreational) she'd like to participate in and doesn't want to cancel them to watch my older boys when the time comes. My father will not be at home for most of November, so there will be no one else to assist with this responsibility. Though it's an area and a church community we lived in for 5 years, most of the women I know have a number of small children of their own, and would find it difficult to be available on a moment's notice to help me out. Furthermore, it's shocking how many of our friends moved away during the last year we lived with, so very few of the people who would be most willing to stretch themselves on our behalf are even there anymore.
So it is the end of my hope that my old OB, the one who delivered three of my children, will be able to assist me at this delivery. It's sad, not to have someone who is familiar with me, my way of caring for myself, the path my pregnancies follow in the last month, the path my babies take on their way out into the world. The end of the hope I had that this might be possible.
On the other hand, it is also the end of the anxiety that I had in thinking about living alone with my children while full-term pregnant, the end of anxiety I had about how my parents would react to the request, the end of the anxiety I had about all the new things my boys would break while we lived with them, the end of the anxiety I had about whether our presence was welcome in their home or not, the end of the anxiety I had about whether care from one doctor during pregnancy and another during delivery would work well or not, the end of planning and planning and planning for contingencies that were very difficult to foresee. So, it's something of a relief.
On the other hand, the anxieties about what my new maternal-fetal specialist will do or insist upon, what the maternal-fetal specialist will find and demand to do additional testing upon, what recommendation from the maternal-fetal specialist that the OBs will or will not take, what kind of conflict I will encounter with a new doctor when I tell them that I don't intend to induce at 39 weeks, and ultimately, whether the OB will refuse to see me as a patient any longer if I refuse certain kinds of testing and refuse induction under certain circumstances. I have, after all, been fired by a doctor in the past. The memory of that is rather overwhelming. The anxiety about future possibilities is rather suffocating. On the other hand, these are all circumstances which may not come to pass...
...and so I'm trying to make this a time of patient trust, prayer, and waiting. Absolutely nothing has gone wrong yet. I have not had any conflict with my doctors yet. None of the testing has showed an abnormal result yet. I have not gotten to 39 weeks and had to decide about induction yet. Nothing bad has happened yet, my mind is only filled with the bad things that have happened in the past and the bad things that could happen in the future. Nothing bad has happened. Nothing bad has happened. Nothing. bad. has. happened. (yet)
When did living in the present become so difficult? What do you do to help you get back to the present when you are anxious about the past or the future?
And as a side note, my weekly notes are finally caught up to my real pregnancy dates. From here, updates will be live weekly! My due date is November 27.