I cannot un-know what I know now. I cannot naively waltz through a pregnancy like I did during the first 20 weeks of my first pregnancy assuming that my child would be completely healthy.
I cannot sit through a 10 minute ultrasound without holding my breath and trembling. I cannot go about my days patiently waiting for test results to come back; instead, I’m checking the online portal every hour and anxiously pacing when I can’t find something to distract me.
I’m terrified.
I’m not terrified of what we would do if our baby has health complications. We would do our very best for that child as we have with Savannah.
I’m terrified of what it would do to me and my husband - as individuals and as partners. I’m terrified of being broken so much more than we already are. I’m terrified that another blow may be the final one, that we may crumble beneath the pressure. I’m terrified of reliving the trauma, reliving the pain, reliving the days I have no idea looking back how we made it through.
I’m terrified that my body is not equipped to have an “easy” pregnancy. I want my baby to be healthy more than anything. I feel like I can’t catch a break.
I’m having my own health complications with this pregnancy, and I’m being closely followed. Until my medication was adjusted, I was severely nauseous....for almost 20 weeks. I didn’t want to hear, “but nausea is a good sign that everything is as it should be with baby.” What they don’t know is I was nauseous with Savannah, and she had multiple complex and life-threatening birth defects.
I’m terrified of the question, “when will you find out if baby is healthy?” Because that serves as a painful reminder of the turmoil we have been through with our first daughter. It’s a reminder that things can (and do) take complicated turns. It also is a question that doesn’t have a simple answer; most people don’t realize that baby isn’t necessarily “healthy” just because nothing shows up on prenatal scans. There are many things that don’t present until birth or long after. I know this. Most people seem to not (how could I expect them to?), but I know they’re coming from a good place. They want to help ease my fears - and maybe their own - but do not realize how unhelpful (and sometimes triggering) it is to hear the question...over and over again.
I have avoided posting on social media and kept my pregnancy “announcement” at work low-key to try and hold off such questions until I got to the 20 week ultrasound. While I know I’ll continue to get theses questions, I do feel (slightly) relieved to be past the halfway-mark. I’m starting to let myself imagine what life will be like with my second girl - Cassidy Christine - and think about all the things I’ll be able to do with her that I wasn’t able to do with Savannah.
I’m terrified that I’ll continue to feel alone. For a long time, I yearned for another pregnancy, another child - one that would be typical so I could at least relate to all the moms in my circle. On some levels, I think I’ll be able to finally relate, but my journey through motherhood will always be laced with a certain anxiety unique to mothering a child with medical complexities.
I’m terrified I won’t know how to parent a “typical” child. This time around feels so much like the first - the not knowing what to expect, the feelings of inadequacy, the first-time mom jitters. How will breastfeeding go? How do I use a baby carrier? What’s the appropriate amount of burping a child post-meal? What’s a typical vaccine schedule? What do post-delivery checkups looks like?
Adding a layer of complexity is the hyper-awareness I have of what could go wrong and my history of reliance on medical equipment to know when things are amiss. How do I trust that my child’s heart is working like it should?How do we go home without medical equipment to monitor vitals? How am I supposed to sleep with a child? We’ve never been able to “sleep when baby sleeps” with Savannah because someone has to be awake with her 24/7; someone is always watching her to make sure she is breathing, having no complications, checking her oxygen levels and heart rate, and ensuring she doesn’t get tied up in her tubes and lines overnight. How am I supposed to just sleep when this new baby sleeps?
Again, we know there is no guarantee that Cassidy will have no medical complications. We have been blessed with a healthy pregnancy so far. We have had blood tests done early to check for markers of common genetic issues, and nothing looked out of the ordinary (yet) at our 20 week ultrasound. We have not elected to do tests to see if Cassidy has CHARGE syndrome like Savannah, as those tests were invasive and carried more risks than we were willing to take without any other evidence pointing to issues at this time. While we have no reason to believe Cassidy has medical complications at this point, please understand that this doesn’t provide the assurance you may expect it to for us. We are slightly relieved, yes, but we still have such a long way to go until our sweet girl is here with us. We are still stricken with anxiety and nervousness about the months to come.
I ask that you continue to pray for us, to love us, and to try and see where we’re coming from. Know that we don’t need you to understand but we do need you to sit in the uncomfortableness with us. Don’t try to tell us “at least this time...” Let us share what is on our hearts in hopes that it helps us move towards healing and grace. We may be terrified, but we truly are thankful for the newest addition to our family. We can’t wait until she is here, and we’ll continue to figure out what we need to make it through this pregnancy as emotionally unscathed as possible.