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.