Sunday, September 20, 2009

When the door opens...

So I'm pregnant, you see. I'm trying to come to terms with this, and I'm reminded more and more often because I can't touch the floor anymore without extreme discomfort, and I'm hobbling and wobbling, and because this person who lives inside of me is so absolutely here and part of my life that it's becoming an indisputable truth.
It has been amazing to me to realize the amount of control that I have acquired over the past four years, since my last pregnancy. I have doors in my brain that I can open and shut at will, and it has been of a great relief that I can keep the "panic" door shut most of the time if I work on it. There have been several occasions where I have slipped into this mode in full force, and this is when I am reminded that it's all still in there, even though it's behind a closed door.
For example, last week. I had this ingrown hair on the bottom of my belly, which hurt like the dickens but of course I can neither see nor reach it, so it had to just be what it was. I put some hot compresses on it, and some polysporin cream, and it seemed to abate a little bit. But then! Suddenly, on my ring finger, something else. A raised bump. It looked like a very swollen pimple, but when I burst it, it appeared to be more of an infected finger than your average zit. That was when it hit me-- CELLULITIS! Or was it folliculitis? Either way, this was for sure: left untreated, I would be getting blood poisoning, perhaps within the hour, and doesn't it just kind of stand to reason that if you had blood poisoning it would adversely affect your growing baby? Like even cause it to d**? So that was it-- my fate was sealed. When I realized this it was, of course, after hours so I had to make it through a whole night of this certainty before I was able to procure an emergency visit with my GP to check out the blemishes.
I was so relieved to be there in the waiting room, until I realized that (GASP!) unlike at my midwife's office, there might be sick people here! Even people with swine flu, perhaps, it could be possible, and then I could also become sick and d** along with my baby. I was beginning to regret this visit when I actually looked down at the swollen pustule on my finger and realized that the polysporin I'd applied the night before had kind of worked, and it wasn't really looking that swollen anymore. Upon closer examination in the bathroom where I washed my hands twice with very hot water, neither was the ingrown hair. So here I was, risking acquiring swine flu or some other awful contagious disease that might harm my baby, but it was still possible that I might be getting blood poisoning while I was sitting here, so WHAT is a mother to do?
When I was seen, the doctor didn't exactly laugh at me, although she did humor me by taking a swab of my ingrown hair to check it for bizarre viruses. She also prescribed a very expensive topical ointment which I promptly filled "just to be extra cautious", although I could tell that she didn't really see the need to be extra cautious. But I did.

So there are these moments, where the door to the panic room opens and this is my life, but sometimes I keep it closed, and those days are quite peaceful.

Thank goodness. Because I remember that that day, used to be every day. And for some people it still is.

3 comments:

Hope's Mama said...

I'm trying to keep that door shut as much as possible. It is hard, but I'm getting there.
And your first paragraph? Oh my god yes! It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't drop EVERYTHING! I have serious pregnancy clumsiness going on!
xo

Mel said...

I know exactly what you're talking about. I just had my baby last week, but I was convinced that my body was a death trap. Because of my emergency classical c-section and prior twin pregnancy, I was at risk for uterine rupture. I read that if your uterus ruptures, you have 15 minutes to get to the hospital so that they can save your life and the baby's life. When I talked to my OB for reassurance, she told me that she just delivered a baby in a similar case and her classical incision was so thin that she would have ruptured if she had one real contraction (I was having very frequent braxton-hicks contractions at the time). Ok, that didn't help to ease my mind. At some point, I stopped thinking of my body as a death trap and I was at peace. I love this quote that I saw on Glow in the Woods in reference to subsequent babies, and I used it on the baby announcement:

'For believe me: the secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and greatest enjoyment is -- to live dangerously.' -Friedrich Nietzsche

It's not easy. I hope that you find the same peace that I did.

dude said...

I recently spent a full weekend in my panic room. It made me ever thankful for my midwives as I sat in their office at 8pm on a SUNDAY night listening to Lemon being just fine.
I can't wait until there is a day when I can put albeit a small one, a lock on that door. For now, I leave it open just a crack, in case I need to peek in there.