It is legendary in the nursing field that we tend to get pregnant in waves. Not from group sex or the same guy or anything weird like that, but as in groups of nurses working together becoming pregnant all around the same time. They say that celebrity deaths come in groups of three, so the running joke at most nursing stations is that pregnancies come in groups of three too. Accordingly, there happens to be a handful of nurses where I work at who are all currently expecting.
As a result, a lot of the talk that I hear at work everyday revolves around everything pregnancy related. Stories about labor and deliveries, complaints of pregnancy aches and nausea, talk about ultrasounds and OB appointments, and ideas for decorating nurseries are flowing around me all day long. Everybody is taking guesses on what sex the babies will be, how big they will be at birth, what they will look like, the color of their hair, and so on.
I keep hearing moms-to-be say that commonly used phrase "We don't care, just as long as it is healthy."
I hate to admit this, but it has been really hard for me to listen to all of this talk. Please don't get me wrong, I am very excited for these expecting mothers, all of who I consider to be my friends. However, at the same time, there is a part of me that feels a little bitter when I hear it. My reaction has surprised me and I really had to do some soul searching to figure out where those feelings are coming from.
When I hear these girls talking about their pregnancies and arriving babies so happily, I keep reliving the memories of my last pregnancy with Brodie. I have intense flashbacks to that day, the exact moment, that the perinatologist told us something was wrong with our baby. I start remembering of all of those endless ultrasounds we had to try to see exactly what the problems were and how bad it was. I think of the non-stop parade of specialists and tests we went through to get a diagnosis, a prognosis, and some kind of grip on exactly what we should expect.
Most of all, though, I remember how our excitement and joy over our pregnancy was instantly turned into grief and anxiety. I think that is why it is so hard for me to hear these girls talk about their pregnancies with so much excitement. I am jealous. I feel like the joyful anticipation that comes from expecting a baby was stolen from me during my last pregnancy and replaced with fear instead.
I didn't worry about what color my nursery was going to be, or if he would have his father's eyes, or how much he would end up weighing at birth. Instead, I worried about finding the right doctors and surgeons for him. I worried about how well he was going to be able to move, walk, play, and function. I worried if his birth defects would end up being way more extensive or medically worse than we realized.
One of my pregnant friends/co-worker told me all about a dream she had about what her baby will look like and how it was going to be a girl. While she was telling me about this, I just kept thinking about when I was 8 months pregnant and had a vivid dream that Brodie was born perfectly, with all ten toes and fingers and all four limbs intact. I dreamed that the doctors handed him to me and said that they were sorry because they had made a mistake and my baby was completely normal after all. I remembered that I woke up and cried for hours when I realized that it was just a dream and my baby was still going be born with problems. Remembering that painful moment made me sad for the rest of the day.
So what happens when you find out your baby is NOT going to be "healthy"?
You grieve. You go through the classic 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
Honestly, I went through those stages of grief every time my children were diagnosed with something new. The grieving process differed in the length and intensity, but it still happened each time. I went through the same process of grieving when we found out Brodie was also hearing impaired and that Bentley had Autism.
I spent most of my last pregnancy going through my stages of grief. It was scary, it was hard, and at times it was even traumatic, but we did end up making it through to the other side.
I will say though, the joy of having a new baby was given back to me when he finally did arrive. When I held him for the first time, looked into his eyes, touched him and heard him cry, I fell in love. I was grateful, I was happy, and he was mine. No, he did not have all ten toes and all ten fingers and he was not what was considered to be "healthy", but I didn't care anymore. He was beautiful, he was amazing, and he was absolutely perfect to me.
I guess that is the miracle of becoming a parent. It's true, it does not matter if it is a boy or a girl. It does not matter or if it has a lot of hair, or grandpa's nose, or daddy's blue eyes.
Guess what, it doesn't even matter if it is healthy or not. It is still your baby. You will love him or her beyond measure and be so joyful and happy when they arrive. No matter what else may be or might happen, your baby will still be perfect to you.
So my friends, here is what I what I want to say to you: Congratulations, on your impending new babies, whether it is a boy or a girl, and even it is healthy or not.
As a result, a lot of the talk that I hear at work everyday revolves around everything pregnancy related. Stories about labor and deliveries, complaints of pregnancy aches and nausea, talk about ultrasounds and OB appointments, and ideas for decorating nurseries are flowing around me all day long. Everybody is taking guesses on what sex the babies will be, how big they will be at birth, what they will look like, the color of their hair, and so on.
I keep hearing moms-to-be say that commonly used phrase "We don't care, just as long as it is healthy."
I hate to admit this, but it has been really hard for me to listen to all of this talk. Please don't get me wrong, I am very excited for these expecting mothers, all of who I consider to be my friends. However, at the same time, there is a part of me that feels a little bitter when I hear it. My reaction has surprised me and I really had to do some soul searching to figure out where those feelings are coming from.
When I hear these girls talking about their pregnancies and arriving babies so happily, I keep reliving the memories of my last pregnancy with Brodie. I have intense flashbacks to that day, the exact moment, that the perinatologist told us something was wrong with our baby. I start remembering of all of those endless ultrasounds we had to try to see exactly what the problems were and how bad it was. I think of the non-stop parade of specialists and tests we went through to get a diagnosis, a prognosis, and some kind of grip on exactly what we should expect.
Most of all, though, I remember how our excitement and joy over our pregnancy was instantly turned into grief and anxiety. I think that is why it is so hard for me to hear these girls talk about their pregnancies with so much excitement. I am jealous. I feel like the joyful anticipation that comes from expecting a baby was stolen from me during my last pregnancy and replaced with fear instead.
I didn't worry about what color my nursery was going to be, or if he would have his father's eyes, or how much he would end up weighing at birth. Instead, I worried about finding the right doctors and surgeons for him. I worried about how well he was going to be able to move, walk, play, and function. I worried if his birth defects would end up being way more extensive or medically worse than we realized.
One of my pregnant friends/co-worker told me all about a dream she had about what her baby will look like and how it was going to be a girl. While she was telling me about this, I just kept thinking about when I was 8 months pregnant and had a vivid dream that Brodie was born perfectly, with all ten toes and fingers and all four limbs intact. I dreamed that the doctors handed him to me and said that they were sorry because they had made a mistake and my baby was completely normal after all. I remembered that I woke up and cried for hours when I realized that it was just a dream and my baby was still going be born with problems. Remembering that painful moment made me sad for the rest of the day.
So what happens when you find out your baby is NOT going to be "healthy"?
You grieve. You go through the classic 5 stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
Honestly, I went through those stages of grief every time my children were diagnosed with something new. The grieving process differed in the length and intensity, but it still happened each time. I went through the same process of grieving when we found out Brodie was also hearing impaired and that Bentley had Autism.
I spent most of my last pregnancy going through my stages of grief. It was scary, it was hard, and at times it was even traumatic, but we did end up making it through to the other side.
I will say though, the joy of having a new baby was given back to me when he finally did arrive. When I held him for the first time, looked into his eyes, touched him and heard him cry, I fell in love. I was grateful, I was happy, and he was mine. No, he did not have all ten toes and all ten fingers and he was not what was considered to be "healthy", but I didn't care anymore. He was beautiful, he was amazing, and he was absolutely perfect to me.
I guess that is the miracle of becoming a parent. It's true, it does not matter if it is a boy or a girl. It does not matter or if it has a lot of hair, or grandpa's nose, or daddy's blue eyes.
Guess what, it doesn't even matter if it is healthy or not. It is still your baby. You will love him or her beyond measure and be so joyful and happy when they arrive. No matter what else may be or might happen, your baby will still be perfect to you.
So my friends, here is what I what I want to say to you: Congratulations, on your impending new babies, whether it is a boy or a girl, and even it is healthy or not.