In keeping with Scottt's idea of writing the good things, I tought I would make note that at 9:34pm on Friday night, I'm okay. I'm at rest. I'm not panicked. I'm not in turmoil. I'm just plain. The dove is lingering and I'm being very thankful.
I had a dr's appt today that was not so ... helpful? When I told her about the spotting on Wednesday, she seemed more concerned than even I thought was necessary. She did an internal exam right then to see what she could see and upon seeing nothing said that was good news. But still, I am going for what she called a "viability ultrasound" next Friday. Not an emergency one today because I'm not still bleeding, but early anyway because I did at all. "Viability ultrasound" sounded awfully menacing and bleak but oddly after the initial surprise of the visit wore off, I am feeling better than I have in a while. Who can understand these things? Certainly not me.
But there you go. I'm well today. It's noted.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
All Clear
It seems that yesterday morning's spotting was a one-time thing. I mean, so far. I was exhausted by day's end and was of not much use to my sweet husband who is being valiant in his care for his wife. His crazy, overwraught, weepy wife.
He did suggest I blog some of the good things so that I remember that they happen too. So yesterday's good things were an email from Katie when I got to work. And when I replied in my terror she emailed back kindness and good sense and care and called me a little chicken. That was a good thing. So was her phone call that night when she asked if this was when my period would have been due and wondered if this was maybe a "moon thing". I like the "moon thing" idea so I'm holding on to it as reason to not despair. As much.
Another was Heidi reading my blog and taking time to call me and say soothing, this can be normal things. I didn't think it would help, but it did. It helped to hear tales from the front that ended well, but it helped more to have a friend know that a phone call of care was a good idea and be willing to do it. I so often don't make that call, but experienced yesterday how good they are to receive. Even though if she had asked, I would have said no, don't call...
Another was lunch with Melissa. Melissa is a friend who I like to believe could go head to head with me on the Anxiety Disorder Scale and it would be a toss-up for the winner. But even she, upon hearing some of my deeper, darker planning for things going poorly said, "wow, you've really gone a long way down that road, haven't you?" in such a way that made me realize maybe this is not just the "normal" worrying I've been telling myself it is, and is in fact maybe a lot more disordered than I admit. Hard to believe that this is a good thing, but it is. It is also good to say the fears outloud and hear that they are manageable. They get smaller when they're said aloud somehow. And that's a good thing too.
Oddly, my mother not phoning was a good thing too. I have yet to read anything about the impact of first, tumultuous pregnancies on mother/daughter relationships but one would assume that this is meant to be a wonderful moment when 2 women finally get to share this beautiful, golden moment. When all the stories and wonder are passed from one womb to the next. I think there are probably television commercials and entire Hallmark campaign to this moment in time.
Not so for Mama and me, I'm afraid. I am not being that glowy, happy, phone-calling daughter that maybe we both thought I would be. It's hard to say who's most disappointed at this point.
Happily, she can commiserate with my husband, who is not married to the glowy, giddy wife who loves to marvel about the wonder of it all while reading pregnancy guides together. Scott has bravely braved the Pregnancy Bible loaned by a friend to find reassurances that "painless vaginal bleeding" is a-OK, and to my reluctant laughter last night, that "irrational feelings and swift mood changes" are probably par for the course too at this point. Ok, that 's not a direct quote, but that was the theme.
Let me say that my mother and my husband are wonderful in this way though - neither have insisted that I do it differently. I am sure they would both prefer it, but they are lovely and gracious and kind. My mother emails her care, knowing I can't bring myself to answer the phone, and my husband eats eggs and cheese on toast for dinner and says it's okay. That is probably the best part - being allowed to be crazy with the people who most deserve to get the un-crazy parts.
Okay, the last good thing is Psalm 121. We meditated it on it together at our home group retreat last weekend, and I have been living with it over the last days, praying it with and for our hoped-for One. It is great comfort to know that The LORD Himself is watching over her (see earlier post about use of pronouns), and me too.
And so I venture into this morning with "hope suspended in fear" (thanks for the quote Mama) and doing my best to not be too paralyzed by it all.
He did suggest I blog some of the good things so that I remember that they happen too. So yesterday's good things were an email from Katie when I got to work. And when I replied in my terror she emailed back kindness and good sense and care and called me a little chicken. That was a good thing. So was her phone call that night when she asked if this was when my period would have been due and wondered if this was maybe a "moon thing". I like the "moon thing" idea so I'm holding on to it as reason to not despair. As much.
Another was Heidi reading my blog and taking time to call me and say soothing, this can be normal things. I didn't think it would help, but it did. It helped to hear tales from the front that ended well, but it helped more to have a friend know that a phone call of care was a good idea and be willing to do it. I so often don't make that call, but experienced yesterday how good they are to receive. Even though if she had asked, I would have said no, don't call...
Another was lunch with Melissa. Melissa is a friend who I like to believe could go head to head with me on the Anxiety Disorder Scale and it would be a toss-up for the winner. But even she, upon hearing some of my deeper, darker planning for things going poorly said, "wow, you've really gone a long way down that road, haven't you?" in such a way that made me realize maybe this is not just the "normal" worrying I've been telling myself it is, and is in fact maybe a lot more disordered than I admit. Hard to believe that this is a good thing, but it is. It is also good to say the fears outloud and hear that they are manageable. They get smaller when they're said aloud somehow. And that's a good thing too.
Oddly, my mother not phoning was a good thing too. I have yet to read anything about the impact of first, tumultuous pregnancies on mother/daughter relationships but one would assume that this is meant to be a wonderful moment when 2 women finally get to share this beautiful, golden moment. When all the stories and wonder are passed from one womb to the next. I think there are probably television commercials and entire Hallmark campaign to this moment in time.
Not so for Mama and me, I'm afraid. I am not being that glowy, happy, phone-calling daughter that maybe we both thought I would be. It's hard to say who's most disappointed at this point.
Happily, she can commiserate with my husband, who is not married to the glowy, giddy wife who loves to marvel about the wonder of it all while reading pregnancy guides together. Scott has bravely braved the Pregnancy Bible loaned by a friend to find reassurances that "painless vaginal bleeding" is a-OK, and to my reluctant laughter last night, that "irrational feelings and swift mood changes" are probably par for the course too at this point. Ok, that 's not a direct quote, but that was the theme.
Let me say that my mother and my husband are wonderful in this way though - neither have insisted that I do it differently. I am sure they would both prefer it, but they are lovely and gracious and kind. My mother emails her care, knowing I can't bring myself to answer the phone, and my husband eats eggs and cheese on toast for dinner and says it's okay. That is probably the best part - being allowed to be crazy with the people who most deserve to get the un-crazy parts.
Okay, the last good thing is Psalm 121. We meditated it on it together at our home group retreat last weekend, and I have been living with it over the last days, praying it with and for our hoped-for One. It is great comfort to know that The LORD Himself is watching over her (see earlier post about use of pronouns), and me too.
And so I venture into this morning with "hope suspended in fear" (thanks for the quote Mama) and doing my best to not be too paralyzed by it all.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Where's the Damned Dove
Two nights ago, some ladies prayed for me and prayed for a spirit of peace to descend on me like a dove. It was quite lovely and for about 24 hours I was hanging with the dove, all peace all the time.
Then last night some really light spotting, maybe light cramping. Sleep through the night. This morning, heavier spotting but so far not so much cramping except for when I think about it.
The Spirit of Peace has flown the coop. I am not sure how I'm meant to function through the day. I know that spotting can be "normal". I know that even if it's not, there's nothing I can do about it regardless. I know that we will be okay no matter what comes, that we are not forgotten and that God is nearby.
I just don't care. Right now, I want to be okay and safe and not afraid. I want my body NOT to do things that are scary and upsetting. I want to not be concious right now. Sleeping for the next several months seems like the most appealing option.
Help, help, help.
A.
Then last night some really light spotting, maybe light cramping. Sleep through the night. This morning, heavier spotting but so far not so much cramping except for when I think about it.
The Spirit of Peace has flown the coop. I am not sure how I'm meant to function through the day. I know that spotting can be "normal". I know that even if it's not, there's nothing I can do about it regardless. I know that we will be okay no matter what comes, that we are not forgotten and that God is nearby.
I just don't care. Right now, I want to be okay and safe and not afraid. I want my body NOT to do things that are scary and upsetting. I want to not be concious right now. Sleeping for the next several months seems like the most appealing option.
Help, help, help.
A.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Out of Control
So it's out there. The news. Or is it news? Not sure. Either way, I just got my first congratulations from someone I didn't tell. That seems like a milestone I guess. It panics me a bit but I am getting tired of being panicked and upset and anxious and unwell. I want to be fine and glowy and happy and anticipating and excited and planning and glad.
So I'm practicing that, those things. I am practicing thinking on what is right and good and true and lovely. But it's hard work. I am tired from it.
And secretly, it's hard to really be those things when I am busy resenting other people being happy about it when I'm not. Yet. I mean I am, but not first. It takes work to get there, you know?
And the control thing is this - I said that I thought we would be fine telling people who we would tell if something went wrong, and that was true. But I think I meant that for the entire pregnancy. Eight weeks is a reasonable enough time to be going public with it I guess, but now that it's public-er it seems quite rash and rushed. I think telling the broader world sometime next summer would be better.
But I don't get to be in charge of that anymore. Much the way I'm not in charge of much in this entire thing. And so, I'm out of control.
Have I mentioned I'm tired of whining about this yet? I am. I don't want to be a whiner. When will I stop, do you think? It's more fun when it's funny and Scott and Andy are designing a changing table that involves a visor and checker plate aluminum. THAT's fun.
So I'm practicing that, those things. I am practicing thinking on what is right and good and true and lovely. But it's hard work. I am tired from it.
And secretly, it's hard to really be those things when I am busy resenting other people being happy about it when I'm not. Yet. I mean I am, but not first. It takes work to get there, you know?
And the control thing is this - I said that I thought we would be fine telling people who we would tell if something went wrong, and that was true. But I think I meant that for the entire pregnancy. Eight weeks is a reasonable enough time to be going public with it I guess, but now that it's public-er it seems quite rash and rushed. I think telling the broader world sometime next summer would be better.
But I don't get to be in charge of that anymore. Much the way I'm not in charge of much in this entire thing. And so, I'm out of control.
Have I mentioned I'm tired of whining about this yet? I am. I don't want to be a whiner. When will I stop, do you think? It's more fun when it's funny and Scott and Andy are designing a changing table that involves a visor and checker plate aluminum. THAT's fun.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
There is Only One Shoe
A person can't go wrong quoting Anne Lamott - a comment that God only has one shoe is so good and helpful. I'm trying to be braver about remembering that I am not a person to whom only bad things happen, also a good reminder.
I had a good chat with Katie yesterday afternoon, and we decided that it is unlikely that I will get to the point where it is all good news and I'm blissful and happy and stenciling the nursery. But I can be uneqivocally excited about going to Hawaii in December, so maybe keeping my mind there when it wants to stray to death and mayhem is more possible. So for the last 24 hours, I've been practicing saying "I'm excited to go to Hawaii" anytime I'm tempted to despair about the hopelessness of it all. Oddly, it works.
Apparently, ginger tea also works. I am beginning to feel nauseous more often, though hardly enough to make the big leagues of morning sickness lore. This morning was a bit touch and go getting ready for work, but by the time I got to the bus with my mini-wheats and water things were looking up. However, by lunch time it was not so rosy in these parts but happily I tripped across a box of abandoned ginger tea, and it has taken the edge off. Now if only I could keep my head off my desk for the afternoon...
I had a good chat with Katie yesterday afternoon, and we decided that it is unlikely that I will get to the point where it is all good news and I'm blissful and happy and stenciling the nursery. But I can be uneqivocally excited about going to Hawaii in December, so maybe keeping my mind there when it wants to stray to death and mayhem is more possible. So for the last 24 hours, I've been practicing saying "I'm excited to go to Hawaii" anytime I'm tempted to despair about the hopelessness of it all. Oddly, it works.
Apparently, ginger tea also works. I am beginning to feel nauseous more often, though hardly enough to make the big leagues of morning sickness lore. This morning was a bit touch and go getting ready for work, but by the time I got to the bus with my mini-wheats and water things were looking up. However, by lunch time it was not so rosy in these parts but happily I tripped across a box of abandoned ginger tea, and it has taken the edge off. Now if only I could keep my head off my desk for the afternoon...
Thursday, October 05, 2006
So Sleepy
That's really all there is for this post. Just that I am very sleepy today and seem to be getting more so. That could just be regular living sleepy, or it could be waking up before 5am every morning sleepy or it could be ... well it could be that other thing that we still don't talk about that often.
We've got 2 family dinners this weekend and while I'm quite sure no one will comment on my non-alcoholic beverage choices at the Sanguinetti's, I'm equally sure that it will be of equal import at the Johnson family gathering as showing up less an arm. I've developed a bit of a ... reputation?
Oh dear. Such a nice problem to have.
A.
We've got 2 family dinners this weekend and while I'm quite sure no one will comment on my non-alcoholic beverage choices at the Sanguinetti's, I'm equally sure that it will be of equal import at the Johnson family gathering as showing up less an arm. I've developed a bit of a ... reputation?
Oh dear. Such a nice problem to have.
A.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Limited Release
A reference to widening the circle of trust (see "Meet the Parents") and to exhaling, just a little bit.
So first for the exhaling. As you may recall from the good doctor post a few days ago, I got to have some blood work done Saturday and Monday. And on Monday afternoon at 3, wicked awesome doctor phoned Scott and home and said I should call the office. Oh, and not to worry. So of course I worried and called the office and after much searching for the file, was told by lovely nurse lady that note in my file said "Tell patient the numbers are perfect."
These numbers are meant to double every 48 hours or so in these early weeks and while I didn't really hear what the numbers were, they were something like high four-thousands to mid-nine-thousands. So I think that's probably really truly decent news. Of course I phoned Scott right back and told him that I didn't believe these results, thus stealing yet more joy from the poor boy. But tonight I go to see my actual doctor and hopefully see the numbers myself and understand them a bit better and well, maybe all will be well for a bit longer.
I got to spend the evening with my sweet neighbours the Lambkins, and tried out making the announcement on Andy who has very valiently been acting like everything's normal. The upside to this is that you get to talk about it with people . The downside is that people get to talk about it with you. And people (and in this case, by "people" I mean "Andy") seem to act like this is all good news, like it's normal to talk about the age differences between our children and about not being able to drink in Hawaii. In December. Good grief. Clearly, he doesn't believe in jinxing. Happily, he does believe in God though and when he said grace at dinner, he prayed the right things for my soul and my husband and the life within. Actually called on Life as I recall and I was SO glad AGAIN to know that God has provided these people at this time for this thing. How great is that??
Then this morning, I got to chat with Katie who had called lots the night before after reading this very same blog all on her own. Dear me. I was sad she had read it before I phoned her, but glad because it made it so much easier to talk about because she already knew how this was going. Happily, she has called on the grandparents to watch out for me and keep those cells dividing as they should, so apparently I don't have to worry anymore. While I am worried about putting too much faith in my rather unreliable grandparents (they did all die early afterall, and in my mind that's the height of unreliability), it was good to know Katie was doing what she can. It was also so good to be known by someone who can tie the jinxing fear to BC Ferries. That is the power of sisterhood.
So slowly put surely, I am trying out releasing all manner of things. Releasing little bits of dread and fear. Releasing information to the further reaches of my world. Just a little bit. But this morning, I can so I will.
So first for the exhaling. As you may recall from the good doctor post a few days ago, I got to have some blood work done Saturday and Monday. And on Monday afternoon at 3, wicked awesome doctor phoned Scott and home and said I should call the office. Oh, and not to worry. So of course I worried and called the office and after much searching for the file, was told by lovely nurse lady that note in my file said "Tell patient the numbers are perfect."
These numbers are meant to double every 48 hours or so in these early weeks and while I didn't really hear what the numbers were, they were something like high four-thousands to mid-nine-thousands. So I think that's probably really truly decent news. Of course I phoned Scott right back and told him that I didn't believe these results, thus stealing yet more joy from the poor boy. But tonight I go to see my actual doctor and hopefully see the numbers myself and understand them a bit better and well, maybe all will be well for a bit longer.
I got to spend the evening with my sweet neighbours the Lambkins, and tried out making the announcement on Andy who has very valiently been acting like everything's normal. The upside to this is that you get to talk about it with people . The downside is that people get to talk about it with you. And people (and in this case, by "people" I mean "Andy") seem to act like this is all good news, like it's normal to talk about the age differences between our children and about not being able to drink in Hawaii. In December. Good grief. Clearly, he doesn't believe in jinxing. Happily, he does believe in God though and when he said grace at dinner, he prayed the right things for my soul and my husband and the life within. Actually called on Life as I recall and I was SO glad AGAIN to know that God has provided these people at this time for this thing. How great is that??
Then this morning, I got to chat with Katie who had called lots the night before after reading this very same blog all on her own. Dear me. I was sad she had read it before I phoned her, but glad because it made it so much easier to talk about because she already knew how this was going. Happily, she has called on the grandparents to watch out for me and keep those cells dividing as they should, so apparently I don't have to worry anymore. While I am worried about putting too much faith in my rather unreliable grandparents (they did all die early afterall, and in my mind that's the height of unreliability), it was good to know Katie was doing what she can. It was also so good to be known by someone who can tie the jinxing fear to BC Ferries. That is the power of sisterhood.
So slowly put surely, I am trying out releasing all manner of things. Releasing little bits of dread and fear. Releasing information to the further reaches of my world. Just a little bit. But this morning, I can so I will.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Fine Thanks. Really.
Dinner is nice when it's made for you. So is my family. So nice to me and that boy I married. But I'm tired now. It's exhausting to ward off dread for a day. And I really did do it all day. All through painting and church and playing with friends on the beach. Right through planning thanksgiving dinner with my sister-in-law through picking up my husband at work. And probably almost all the way through the first bowl of hint-o-lime chips. But sometime around setting the table, my reserve of "Fine Thanks" just plain ran out leaving me with nothing but "terrified", without the neutralizing quotation marks.
But truly, deep down in my soul, I am fine. Thanks.
But truly, deep down in my soul, I am fine. Thanks.
Jesus Loves You More Than You Can Know
So said Mark D. serving communion this morning. And so I had a little weep thinking, "yes, He does." And then thinking it had been a few days since I had been thankful for this turn of events in our lives. Not just thankful for answered prayers of Friday (because I am) but thankful that we were pregnant. And I am. Thankful for that. So thankful.
Just wanted you to know. Because being thankful for this leads me straight to being thankful that Jesus does indeed love me more than I can know. That Jesus love YOU more than you can know. You.
Me.
Us.
I having been wrestling with the way to say that Jesus has provided this pregancy and that we're thankful without implying that the only good "answer" to the prayer for a family was this outcome. That when we said we wanted God's will in our lives that this particular circumstance was what we were hoping for but that we still believe that we will be okay no matter the ultimate outcome of this pregnancy. That Jesus loving us more than we know isn't known because we got knocked up but because... well because we're maybe trying to hold it loosely?
Ugh. I'm nowhere close to what I want to say about this, so maybe I'll try it again later. But today, this minute I'm thankful for this minute.
Just wanted you to know. Because being thankful for this leads me straight to being thankful that Jesus does indeed love me more than I can know. That Jesus love YOU more than you can know. You.
Me.
Us.
I having been wrestling with the way to say that Jesus has provided this pregancy and that we're thankful without implying that the only good "answer" to the prayer for a family was this outcome. That when we said we wanted God's will in our lives that this particular circumstance was what we were hoping for but that we still believe that we will be okay no matter the ultimate outcome of this pregnancy. That Jesus loving us more than we know isn't known because we got knocked up but because... well because we're maybe trying to hold it loosely?
Ugh. I'm nowhere close to what I want to say about this, so maybe I'll try it again later. But today, this minute I'm thankful for this minute.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)