Panic and the Need for Control

Remember that this blog is not only a peek at our journey into the world of spina bifida?  It is a place to share the emotional side of it all too.  This will be one of those posts and some of you may just laugh at me.  I’m going to record it anyway because it happened. 

Today was a nice, normal day.  I had my final checkup with my regular midwife today before switching permanently to the high risk pregnancy clinic at the hospital where I’ll deliver.  I’m 35 weeks along today, measuring 37 weeks, dilated to 1cm, and weighing 211 lbs, a 16 pound gain for the pregnancy that officially has me weighing more than my 6’1” husband.  (I’m 5’5”.)  All of that was fine, didn’t make me bat an eye.

This afternoon I got a call from the hospital’s high risk clinic.  Next Thursday I see the Maternal Fetal Medicine doctors for our big ultrasound.  That is where we suspect we’ll be told it’s about time to deliver Mason, that his hydrocephalus requires an early delivery.  I’ve known that for two weeks. 

Well, the high risk clinic calls to set up a checkup for the Wednesday after that date, just in case things look good at our ultrasound.  I’m great with that. 

Then the lady on the phone says she needs to set up the next appointment.  A week after that, January 4th.  19 days from now.  It will begin with a fetal lung maturity test, she says.  That is an amniocentesis.  If you’re not familiar with that, imagine a needle about a foot long or longer being poked into my belly.  No, I’m not joking.  I knew something was up when she mentioned it, but I still wasn’t prepared for her next sentence.

“If that looks okay then you’ll have a C-section at 3:30 that afternoon.”

My heart just about stopped.  For some reason knowing in the abstract that next week I may need to have Mason wasn’t panic-inducing.  However having an official delivery date was.  I got off the phone and all of a sudden was terrified., worried, and ready to panic. 

Silly, isn’t it?  It may all be a moot point next week if delivery needs moved up even earlier.  Yet having an official date threw me for a loop.  I almost cried.  I’m not ready.  I’m not ready mentally for all of this, there are still things at home that need to be finished up. 

When my husband got home from work I told him the first thing on my to-do list tomorrow is to scrub down the refrigerator shelves.  He laughed at me. 

Oh admit it, you’re laughing too, aren’t you? 

For some reason it is those sorts of things that must be done in my mind.  When I have a bit of perspective I know my list has a lot of things that won’t be the end of the world if they’re left undone.  But all of a sudden I feel like I’m out of time and they must be done.  There is so little under my control right now, and that is only going to get worse once Mason is here, so I think that’s why I feel compelled to make a list of things that I can control and do them. 

Speaking of which, I’m off to make that list now.  Even if I know I’m being silly.  It will still make me feel better to have something to do while we wait for this final countdown to play out.