Fear Factor

Well, today I did it!! I faced one of those niggly fears that have been lurking in the dark corners of my brain. It wasn't so much locked away in a trunk in the corner of my mind, under a pile of old clothes and bird cages (not that I have ever or will own a bird cage..) as it was a gray shadow tucked just out of sight. I.. Wait for it, girls.. I went to my OB-GYN for my annual exam. I know, I know.. None of us like to go and we all dread it. Boys, you just don't get it and that's fine. You can probably even skip this post. Really, most of you could skip this post and not miss a thing, but I am putting it out there for my own benefit because I don't want to forget what today felt like.

You see, me and trips to the OB-GYN haven't exactly gone smoothly the last few years. In fact, I would say that my 12 week ultrasound visit and my 20 week anatomy ultrasound were the only truly positive experiences I've had in those offices the last 3 years.. And I've been on LOTS of visits during that time. From my first miscarriage to my D&C to my follow up to that procedure (did they seriously schedule ALL of the new mothers of healthy babies in Knoxville for the same appointment time as me that day??) to diagnosing my heart shaped uterus to the beginning of the end of my pregnancy with Addie.. Just.Not.Pleasant. So, I naturally have anxiety going into those offices and did even before Addie. Now, though.. Things were a whole new level of anxious this morning. I have tried not to think about it or the fact that this will be the first time I will have seen my doctor since she put me on bed rest and looked incredulously at me and told me that all of her "other" bicornuate uterus patients had gone to term without a problem. I get it.. They were great.. I'm the issue here. I tried not to make a big deal out of this appointment even as I knew it would be a trigger for something in me.. I just wasn't sure what.

I left in plenty of time this morning, and I actually felt pretty good going in. I handled a work issue on the way over, grateful for the distraction that got me to the door. I checked in, refusing to look at the very chair I sat in when I tearfully waited to be called back last May 9, my blood tinged dress hidden beneath my long sweater, and where I waited, shaking with fear, knowing in my heart that something was terribly wrong. I refused to look at that chair, to acknowledge the power its memory held over me. Thankful for Southern politeness, I was incredibly kind to the receptionist and she was in turn incredibly kind to me. I wondered if she knew who I was. I felt like the whole office knew who I was ... I felt like the worst kind of celebrity. So, when the receptionist was nice, I thought, "She knows". Still, I was proud. No hint of tears ( I am such a crier these days and it frustrates me.. I hate to cry), even as I reviewd my history that included notes of my two pregnancies, one ending in a miscarriage at 9 weeks and the other delivering pre-term at 25. I chose another seat strategically facing away from the dreaded seat I refused to look at.  I lost myself in a book ( reading uninterrupted and guilt free is a luxury no matter where you are or what I'm facing these days). The rest of the visit was pretty standard stuff with a surprisingly easy exchange between myself and the doctor. Let me be clear.. I don't blame her. This isn't her fault. She had no way to know, and she cared enough to keep up with us after our life went to hell in a hand basket. I chose to go back to her because I hoped we both learned something from this and if anything, she knows how little she should trust my body now, too. I laughed because she doesn't my body anymore than the NICU staff trusted Addie after she survived her first month of life. There is more than a hint of pride and irony that I share this characteristic with my super hero daughter.

I will say that she again emphasized that she really never had any issues with mommy's to be "like me" before or since.. All went to term with no preterm labor. I guess that didn't really bother me at the time, and I honestly thought it just rolled off my back, but I found those statements slinking their way back to the corner of my brain with the trunk buried under piles of blankets and bird cages, trying to find their way inside that trunk that stores my own guilt about what happened. That trunk stays hidden most of the time but does pop open on really bad, ugly days when I am falling apart. For now, it's locked and hidden, but there are a few new barbs hidden in there now thanks to my well meaning doctor.

I only cried once during my appointment, and it actually caught me by surprise. I had already rehashed Addie's wealth of complications and had sung her praises from the rafters and shown off the latest pictures on my iPad (all tear free!) and then she asked what now.. More kids? Hello, water works! They were blessedly short lived and I recovered quickly. I've been asked this question by friends, family and strangers who have heard my story, and each time I react differently. My answer stays these same each time. Yes, we would love for Addie to have a sibling. I have always dreamed of two children. I have a brother, and I can't imagine Addie not having a sibling. I can't imagine leaving Addie someday when this life is over and her not having someone to lean on, to call her family, to grow old with. I also can't imagine weeks of bedrest in the hospital again, this time with my sweet Addie at home. So, I would love for her to have a brother or sister of her own, but only time will tell. Right now she needs her mommy and daddy to focus soully on her. It takes every bit of my heart and soul to get through our days right now. It wouldn't be fair to bring another life into this equation right now. There just isn't enough of us to go around. It also wouldn't be fair to Addie. She is amazing, and she is going to be a great child and an even more amazing adult someday. She just needs a lot of help getting there, and she can't afford to split time with another child right now. So, in a few years we will evaluate where we're at.

All of that is to say that the appointment went off without a major hitch and only minor water works on my part. There was no grand apology or emotion on her part; I was naive to think there might be. She was very kind and supportive, and I think we will work very well together in the future. She respects me now when I speak up about my body, and she knows that my body bends to no one's rules or experiences. I was very proud of how I handled myself; there were no visible signs of the anxiety I must have internalized. I didn't realize myself how much it had effected me until I walked out the door. I glanced back at it and practically sprinted to the car. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. As I drove home, my hands trembled against the steering wheel and I felt nauseous most of the afternoon and really wanted nothing more than to curl up in a cocoon in the middle of my bed. ..but I had done it! I faced one of the lingering fears from last year, and I survived! In the grand scheme of things we have accomplished, faced or conquered, this isn't even a blip on the radar, but it is a moment worth remembering for me. I faced a trigger and walked away without major incident, embarrassment or trauma. I am one step closer to trusting myself out in the world again! :-)