Leighann
Last night on ER Angela Bassett's character said the following:
When you lose your parents, you're an orphan. When you lose a spouse, you're a widow. When you lose your baby....there's no word for that.
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Ok, so there seem to be quite a few of you reading my blog, but not saying that you've visited. It's okay. I'm shy too. I hate big crowds, especially if I don't know who is in them. But have no fear, we're all friendly here. We don't bite. My regular posters are my sisters, mother-in-law, and mommy friends. Harmless, really. So, I decided to make it a little easier for you. You don't have to try and think up something profound to help me through the latest saga in my life; just something yummy to get me out of my rut. Here's the situation: I make the SAME meals every week. I cycle through being creative, but honestly, lately, I've had no energy for that. And while my family is not complaining about repeatedly being fed tacos, spaghetti and baked fish, I am!! So, send me your favorite week night meal. I need 'em, the baby needs 'em, and even though they don't know it yet, my family needs them. Maybe if you make it worth it, I'll even think of some special prize for biggest hit.
Thank you, my dear hubby, for giving me a weekend away with a friend to do whatever I pleased, especially when you heard the word shopping.
Thank you for not only watching the girls, but engaging with them and making each day all about them.
Thank you for making the house spotless so that when I walked through the door, I was not only rested, but also relieved.
Thank you for saying I should keep all the maternity clothes I bought instead of saying, 'you're kidding, right? Now that you're in your third pregnancy, you care about not looking like a cow.'
Thank you for responding in such a cute way when I told you I caught a glimpse of my growing rear in a shop window and was surprised by the amount of junk.in.MY.trunk. It helped to hear you say you liked it (I'm sure the laughing was unavoidable).
Thank you for making Monday and Tuesday about the family and not about work; especially Tuesday when you spent the entire day with me taking the girls to the Discovery Center and letting them play to their heart's content.
Thank you most of all for loving me and our girls more than yourself and proving to us constantly that love.
"For though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me." Ps. 23:4
This is the verse I thought of tonight while putting Natalie to bed. It just came to me out of the blue. My doctor's appointment with the OB specialist on Friday was ordinary. Nothing new to report - baby still growing, heart still outside chest cavity.
I met the last of the four doctors in the practice. They each have their own style. He kept his advice to himself. I'm not sure if this is because I just got passed off to Childrens and they are now my 'advisors' or if this is his general style. He basically confirmed I wanted to go forward with the pregnancy, then asked me what Children's told me. I gave his the update and mentioned while they were optimistic, they weren't giving us any guarantee or giving us even a 50% chance at life. We had a very interesting conversation that went something like this:
He commented that this type of defect is devastating and he's seen three all with bad outcomes.
I asked "is that because the mothers terminated the pregnancy or because the babies died of natural causes?"
He said "both"
Me: "I wonder if that skews the statistics then."
Him: "Maybe. The experiential advice doctors give mothers on this defect is from what they know from 30 years ago before we would find out about the defect in the womb. The baby would basically be born, the defect would become apparent and there would be no plan in place to immediately help the baby. Without immediate help, the baby cannot live."
Me: "So, purely antidotal, do you think this is something modern medicine will be able to one day overcome more regularly?"
Him: "I don't see why not. Technology and medical science is developing at a rapid pace. We are doing amazing things now. I don't see why it wouldn't get better."
This conversation seems benign, but I couldn't stop thinking all weekend how the doctors are being a bit deceptive with the mothers. While this condition does result primarily in death, there is some chance the baby will live. That is what Children's is telling us and what they have seen. Starting at our 12 wk NT scan and up until we met with Children's, we were told by our doctors and specialists that this baby had NO chance at life; that they didn't expect life to 20 wks and when we beat that, that while we might go to 40 wks it would die at birth. I don't want to be in denial, but it seems to me that working on statistics from 30 years ago gives mothers a skewed idea when making a decision to terminate or not - skewing the death rate a bit more. Any hesitation on the doctor's part might make all the difference of a mother carrying to full term and giving a child a chance at life. I know this isn't where I should focus my energy at the moment, but it's been hard to get out of my head.
A conversation with my 4 yr-old daughter today:
Natalie: Is that daddy's work?
Mommy: No, sweetie, but it does look his parking garage.
Natalie: Is that daddy's work?
Mommy: No, we aren't going to pass his work today.
Natalie: Is that daddy's work?
Mommy: No.
Natalie: Some mommy's go to work, right mommy?
Mommy: Yes they do. But mommy works at home.
Natalie: It's your job to clean up, right?
Mommy: Right....
I'm not sure if I like where this is going....
And Ainlsey's work ideas phonetically spelled to accomodate her speach...
Ainsley: I wan daddy.
Mommy: Daddy's at work.
Ainsley: No, daddy ome. Mommy owe erk.