Friday, May 25, 2007

Yeah, I pretty much saw that coming...

We had the twelve-week ultrasound today (though I'm actually 11w4d) and everything looked beautiful. Arms and legs and hands and feet and little fingers we could count. The cranial bones are growing and fusing properly, the spinal cord looks good, there are arms where there should be arms and legs where there should be legs and a great big thumping hummingbird heartbeat. The nuchal transluscency measured at 0.9mm, which translates to a 1:875 likelihood of chromosomal abnormalities, and there was a discernable nasal bone (associated with a lower risk of chromosomal abnormalities). All the physical stuff checked out great although I appear to have gained no weight in the past six weeks, tortlis and full fat lattes notwithstanding. Not something we like to see, but Dr. Fantabulous wasn't overly concerned - yet. I think I've got four weeks to turn that around before he does get on my case. I even got the green light for a little more guilt-free caffeine consumption since the nightly 3:30 am to 5:30 am insomnia is, um, killing me.

And speaking of nightly 3:30 am to 5:30 am insomnia, I also got a referral to a therapist because Dr. Fantabulous thinks I'm at risk for Schwangerschaftsdepression (depression during the pregnancy) and eventual post-partum depression. I can't say I was surprised to hear this, and I was going to bring it up myself if he hadn't brough it up first. The fact that he did bring it up first is why he's still my OB/GYN after all these years, why I've referred four friends and acquaintances to him, and why his pseudonym is Dr. Fantabulous. Because he is.

So I appear to be at risk for PPD, though addressing it now and having it in my file for follow-up care is, I optimistically state without any benefit of statistical evidence whatsoever, half the battle. The crux of the matter, I believe, I hope, goes back to what I wrote about in this post. What if there is not enough of me to go around? I'm scared that somebody will be pushed into the shadows. I'm not my mother, but that's the model I grew up with, it's the pattern I grew used to: not enough left over for the second child. I say I hope that is the crux of the matter because if it is I believe I can repattern myself. I have faith in behavioral therapy - that very letter to my mother was the culmination of my behavioral therapy after her death. I have faith that voicing our fears is the first step to disempowering them. I have faith that asking for help is a good thing. I have faith that people - professionals, family, friends - will help if called upon.

And I have faith that this will happen with this baby too.

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5 Comments:

At 20:38 , Blogger moo said...

Velcro love made me tear up - so beautiful.

I also feel that voicing fears is the best way to take their power and asking for & receiving help is so powerful...there will be plenty of you for #2.

xxmoo

 
At 10:19 , Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am only now starting to realise how my mother's problems have influenced the kind of woman, wife and mother I am now. If I'd seen it coming, perhaps I would have been more prepared, and overcoming the handicap of being raised by a woman who found it impossible to show love or approval would have been easier. It's a daily thing, to remind myself that telling my kids that I love them and that they are so clever and talented and beautiful is OK.

On the other hand, if I'd realised how messed up my mum was, perhaps I would have been more nervous about becoming a mother myself, in which case the doubt would have crept under my skin and been very hard to dislodge.

My younger brother seemed particularly to suffer from my mother (and my father's) short-comings as parents, but he is doing a remarkable, incredible job as a father to his own little boy. In fact, if you'd asked me five years ago what kind of parent he'd be, I would have probably said he'd find it a struggle to overcome what I had since discovered. BUT he is turning all of that negativity into love and his boy is blossoming.

Which is a very long way of saying that you can choose to be whatever kind of parent you want to be, it doesn't matter who your parents were or whether or not they did a good job of raising you. Sure, there are days when you feel yourself channeling your mother (I hear myself say things and I cringe) but they only have to mean something if you let them.

As for finding enough love for the second baby? The moment they start making those little snuffly-puppy noises as they press their faces into your neck, or when they blink at you in the seconds after birth, or when you see the joy in Small Boy's face when he meets the baby for the first time... you'll find it everywhere, in abundance.

 
At 01:59 , Blogger christina said...

I'm so excited for you! And I share your fear of not having enough of you to go around the second time...it's part of the reason DH and I are waiting a few more years before we plunge to have the second: I'm terrified I'll drown under the full-velocity loving that goes into rearing two children and being married to someone, and some part of me hopes that it will be easier when Bean is slightly older and therefore (hopefully) slightly more independent. I'll be sending you a zillion hugs via the internets from now till long after your little one arrives. xo! C

 
At 09:11 , Blogger christine said...

All wonderful news! I hope that the PPD doesn't manifest it's ugly face. What a good doctor for giving you warning beforehand.

The juggling thing has been on my mind a lot too. I keep trying to push it back because there are other hurdles to jump. More and more it keeps popping up in my mind "how will I do this?"

 
At 19:05 , Blogger junebee said...

Congratulations, glad things are looking good for you. Enjoy NYC. The food can't be beat.

 

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