For as long as I can remember, I have dealt with anxiety and depression. It has always been a part of my life. When I was pregnant with Stella & Joy, doctor appointments were a huge trigger for me. Google is a pregnant woman’s worst nightmare, especially in a high risk pregnancy. I would have nightmares that one twin “ate” the other. That twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome was happening. That they would perform the ultrasound and there would be nothing there. Appointment after appointment, however, the girls continued to grow and flourish, healthy as can be. Eventually I let myself relax. Doctor appointments became less scary and more exciting, as it gave me a chance to see my daughters growing. At one point, the number of appointments actually became annoying. I felt like I was always going to an appointment.
Then, December 2nd happened. My mom took me to the hospital for my routine NST (non-stress test to check the girls heartbeats and monitor if I was showing any signs of labor) because I was feeling way to big to drive. I was joking around with the nurses and my mom about the girls hiding and making what should be a 20 minute appointment into an hour-long appointment sometimes. All the joking stopped when the only sound on the monitors was silence. After weeks and months of appointments, letting myself relax and enjoy the ride, my world fell apart at that appointment.
When Zach and I talked about trying again, I told him my fears. I worried how I would be able to mentally handle the stress, anxiety, and fear of more doctor appointments. Now that I am pregnant again, I find that I am much calmer than I anticipated, but for a very morbid reason. I have come to accept that at any appointment, this baby may be gone. This is my new reality. I am not excited, I am not scared, I am not anxious. I am realistic.
Thursday night I have an appointment at Abington Hospital. It is my second ultrasound. I am hopeful that this baby is alive and well, showing signs of growth since I saw it a few weeks ago. But I am also realistic. I know how this can end. Perhaps the scariest part of all is that I do believe this baby is ok. My heart has already decided that this pregnancy will work out and I will go home with a happy, healthy baby. My mind, however, is much more logical and knows that I may not get my happy ending. But my heart won’t give up hope.
“Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.” (Red, Shawshank Redemption). My hope for a happy ending will keep me going, even if I go crazy in the process.
Right there with you.