Elsie has returned to school, and we have survived the transition week: an introduction to school where days grow progressively longer in a way that is soothing and gentle for the children (debatable!), stressful and unworkable for the parents (absolutely!)
Elsie and I spent the summer taking full advantage of her age (almost-four) and status (only-child). The freedom of not napping, the ability to hold pee for at least 10 minutes after realizing "I REALLY have to go!" the reduced instance and severity of public tantrums, the ability to walk a few miles in a day and to travel light, carrying our gear for the day, each other's hand, and an ice-cream cone all at once. We sucked the life right out of summer, one MBTA adventure at a time. Kids love public transport.
This summer was also my second trimester. Heat stroke and PTSD aside, it went well. I finished up my monitoring by the high-risk OB. I have decided not to seek any further ultrasounds. That is, I have decided to trust my doctor's proclamation and the evidence he has showed me again and again: this baby has a brain. A fully formed posterior fossa. A corpus callosum. Ventricles of appropriate size. This baby is a healthy baby. This ultrasound image is the only one that matters to me: the one without a giant black hole where the brain should be:
I've started seeing a cognitive behavioral therapist for the PTSD piece. Right in line with the wishes of my friends, family, and blog-readers, he thinks I need to start by actively connecting to this baby. Cease trying to pretend I'm not pregnant. Turn towards my baby girl.
The therapy is pretty simple. I get weekly assignments. Stuff that most expectant moms do without trying. Feel for kicks. Think about names. Talk to her. But for me, after what I've been through, I have to make time for this, sit down and do it on purpose.
It isn't as bad as I thought it would be. I am warming to her. That is reassuring. But it hasn't solved everything, either. There's no quick fix. Part of me is relieved to have entered my third trimester and ready to start thinking about a baby in my life. Then a voice pipes in and says, "You were two months further along than this when everything blew up last time. Don't get too comfortable."
I'm learning to live without so much fear in a world where that kind of thing happens. In a world where it happened to me.
In the spirit of connection, I'll close with a less clinical ultrasound. My baby girl is dancing in there.
Kate, I am thrilled for you. For so many things. For you and Elsie having a wonderful summer. For a healthy baby girl growing inside you. For you taking the time to get some help AND taking the time to do the assignments. This post made me smile. I hope it did for you too!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your post. I'm in my second trimester after losing our little one in February and can absolutely relate to this. I keep wondering when I'll finally let myself start connecting with baby and breathing easy. Thanks for the words of wisdom (and your therapist's advice)!
ReplyDeleteThank you both so much. Anon, it's okay if it's touch-and-go. Start small. I find the easiest way is to feel for the kicks. It's so simple, and you can do it without getting too stuck in your head. I also found a meditation podcast that had a connecting-to-your-baby episode. Sometimes I listen to that if my mind is to racy during baby-time.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations, Kate. I know how beautiful and re-assuring that ultrasound photo is. I too lost my daughter last Dec 2013 from ACC. I am 10 weeks pregnant right now. I have constant nightmares. I am due for many tests and cannot wait to get them over with and see results. It's great to hear from another mother good news. Thank for sharing your story. RWolfe
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