The Story of a Boy Part 3: Blinding Fear
Please read Part 1 (the beginning) and part 2 (the joy) before reading this.
This is the third of the series.
Before I begin; let me say that this post will most likely not be funny. And it might contain information that upsets you and not in the usual way with offensive language and politics…..but in a human, sad and guttural way. I may very well ramble at times and for all of these things: I am genuinely sorry. Again; please read parts 1 and 2 before reading this….it will just make more sense that way.
As the warmth and magic of spring began to unfold and my growing belly necessitated changing to maternity clothing our planning and preparations began in earnest. We talked at great length about baby names. We wondered if it would be a boy or a girl.
Now for the sake of full disclosure I should tell you that in my minds’ eye I had (from the very START of my relationship with my Dear Husband waaayyyyyy before he WAS my husband) always imagined that we would have two sons. I **know** that DH wanted two sons. We had talked on many, many occasions how important one son would be to him~ but in my heart of hearts I just **knew** we would have two. I let him name our first DS (with some compromise by him of letting me give DS 2 middle names) knowing full well in my heart that we would have another son…..and I would chose his name. I cannot tell you why I knew this, I just did.
In mid May we were out of town for a social function. DS was with us and in the fray of packing up our stuff in a grass parking lot….he wrenched his little chubby near 2 year old hand from mine and took off faster than I knew he could run. I looked on in sheer terror as a woman in a very large SUV began moving her car forward toward the direction DS was running…..I took off, skirts swirling, screaming at the top of my voice: STOP LADY PLEASE STOP. Friends were all around and something got the lady’s attention that something was happening but she didn’t seem to be STOPPING.
Now running in the wet grass, pregnant, with a floor length dress on is never a good idea. Add sheer terror to the equation and you have a recipe for disaster………of course, I fell. I fell hard, face forward into the ground. I came up like a flash though~ continued my (now completely crazy) sprint for my boy who was now directly in front of the SUV. Sometime between the split second of me falling and then leaping back up the lady in the SUV had realized there was a child directly in front of her car (there is NO WAY she could have seen him; small as he was at the time) and she had, in fact, stopped (although curiously she did not get out of her car….I always wondered about that).
So covered in grass, dress, hair, face a disheveled mess of terror I reach my Dear Son and scoop his 25 pound body into my arms and I collapse on the ground in a heap. Waves of relief and tears washing over us both. I sobbed there, openly and without care so relieved I was that DS was ok (the scolding about running off came later and I’m quite certain was NOT delivered by me).
Now surrounded by friends and onlookers (as we had created quite a stir) people began rushing to me. I remember thinking “why are they concerned about ME?”………and then I remembered that I had fallen and my terror, almost instantly renewed, flew to my unborn child.
It was a long drive home…….near 3 hours. Of course it was the weekend and of course when I called the OB’s office they said I was probably ok, but if X,Y or Z happened to go to the ER. I think I made my husband stop at every rest stop on the way home so I could check to make sure I wasn’t bleeding. And each stop revealed the same as the last: no bleeding, no fluid leaking, no cramps….still feeling the baby move.
The next week I was a complete hot MESS. It is hard for me to put into words the fear and the gnawing at my soul that possessed me during that week. I could not seem to shake the feeling that something was not right. I had gone to be checked at the ER Sunday after the fall…and had gone to the OB on Monday for a double check……but nothing seemed to help allay a growing fear that something was amiss.
My week was complicated exponentially by the fact that my Dear Husband (months prior) had chosen that particular week to take the roof off of our house and replace it, by himself. Thinking May would be a good time because it wouldn't be too hot and it would be well before the new baby arrived.
Well it was 95 degrees. And the heat, the stress, the noise, the mess and the fact that I was flying solo with DS just combined to make me a woman on the edge of sanity………if I had known how close I would get to the edge in the coming weeks I may well have had a full blown nervous breakdown from which I would never have recovered.
Wednesday May 23, 2007….It is hot. I am scared and I can’t say why exactly. I called my OB (AGAIN~ God love those ladies in that office who took such loving care of me this particular week) and somehow (probably through my I will not take no for an answer insistence) they fit me in for later that day. As luck would have it: I saw a doctor (1 of 7 in the practice) whom I had never met. He listened (not so patiently) about my fall, my fear and why I was, for the second time that week, in his office. I must have looked a little crazy because not only did he do a full exam (although he made it VERY clear that he felt is was completely unnecessary) but he also did cultures and blood work and ordered another ultrasound.
And miraculously, the sonographer (who I love to this day) had a cancellation and I was ushered right in. Since I was well into my second trimester she offered (and I GLADLY accepted) to go ahead and do THE BIG ultrasound….you know the one~ where they measure EVERYTHING and can look at the baby’s heart, brain, kidneys….all of it…..and they can (if the baby cooperates) tell the sex of the child. As my child was feeling quite cooperative that day; the sonographer asked me if I wanted to know the sex of the baby. I hesitated for only a fraction of a split second……..and then….I said OF COURSE!!!!! I have never been a woman who is good at waiting. If she knew I wanted to know.
And she turned the screen so that I could see it and pointed to a specific area on the screen….there is was, plain as day we were having another son.
There are so few perfect moments in life…..but here I was…..having another perfect moment. I thought my heart might explode. I had been SO worried all week……looking at my son on that screen healthy, everything measuring spot on, fluid levels perfect, I allowed myself to bask in the relief that washed over me. I left that office, sonogram pictures clutched in hand and I felt as though I was floating on air.
On the way back to work I called DH. Well; more specifically I called him four times….you know: call he doesn't answer, hang up call back, repeat. He was on the roof of course; busily ripping off shingles. On the fourth call I left a message: honey; everything is okay, but please call me as soon as you can, I HAVE NEWS!!!
Just as I was walking back into my office he called me back. If we live to be a hundred I am not sure I will ever be able to please him as much as I did that sunny May afternoon. The baby is healthy, everything is measuring spot on, no markers for any genetic issues……and then……three little words: it’s a boy. You see most folks **knew** he wanted another boy….and as men are wont to do: his coworkers and friends teased him mercilessly that it would for sure be a girl…..and in reality it would have been more than okay if it had been a girl……when you want a baby as much as we both did the sex doesn't matter: healthy, happy, living family….that’s the goal. The fact that it WAS A BOY was just like sweet, sweet icing on the most decadent cake you have ever eaten.
For the rest of Wednesday and most of Thursday I was relieved and so very, very happy.
But then Thursday afternoon the sky opened up and the rain POURED…which meant that our (now bare roof) was letting water flow into our house…..it was a hot mess I tell you, tarps, buckets, water everywhere. By Thursday evening the nagging at my soul had returned. I didn't feel well and I was exhausted emotionally and physically from all of the rain drama.
Friday was hot and sunny….I went to work……the nagging remained. I called the OB office multiple times throughout the day to inquire about the results of my cultures and blood work. Finally near 5 pm I was FINALLY able to talk to a nurse who reassured me that everything on the lab tests was fine. I remember very distinctly asking her THREE times if she was sure….I remember saying “I just don’t feel right, and it’s a holiday weekend and I don’t want to end up in the ER or lose this baby”…..more reassurances…rest drink water blah blah blah call next Tuesday of you are still having issues.
I went to bed that night feeling awful physically and mentally. DH, exhausted both from the manual labor and from my crazy unyielding fear said a good night’s sleep was all we both needed. In the morning we would both feel better.
Saturday May 26……I woke at 2 am….I felt feverish…..sick…..something is wrong…..I got out of bed and almost as soon as my feet hit the floor I was standing in a puddle of fluid. No it can’t be, it’s much too soon for this.
Go to the bathroom, maybe you just have to pee…….no each step….more fluid…..and I know before I set foot in the bathroom….I know….I know…..I feel it….hot and wet and sick I feel it…..through strangely calm tears I wake my husband and together we lie on our bed and wait for my mom to come to stay with DS so we can go to the hospital.