In the past few years, I have noticed that I suffer a bit from anxiety. I didn't really know I had this until one day I caught myself repeating a certain sentence over and over in my head. Then a few days later I noticed the same exact habit, I started to notice more and more when I would end up in this cycle. They don't last long and lately, now that I am aware of them, I try to snap myself out of them. I don't know what causes it, probably stress, probably feelings of inadequacy, whatever it is, it is terrifying and I don't like the feeling at all. I hate meds, so I probably will try to never get on any of them, especially if I can snap myself out of it myself.
However, yesterday, I was overly stressed. I knew what was stressing me out and I tried all weekend to not let myself be stressed out over it. What was stressing me out? Something extremely simple--I was having another doctor's appointment for my pregnancy. I have had many of them with my first two and I don't remember ever being stressed out. However, after my miscarriage in November, anything at all with this pregnancy sets me on edge. Although I have had already one ultrasound and it showed everything normal (at least to the little peanut size baby that I had at that point), I was terrified. All weekend and all day yesterday, I was preparing myself for the worst. I was preparing myself mentally to hear the doctor say, "Isela, I am sorry, it doesn't seem like a viable pregnancy." Is that crazy? I think I am trying to shield myself in case anything happens. I know my odds of having a healthy pregnancy are low due to age...blah, blah, apparently 38 is too old.
My appointment was at 4:30 and I was on edge...so on edge! I wanted to know that my baby was okay, that my body was handling it okay. That my body can still carry a wee one. The doctor, thankfully, was in and they took us right away. She came in and after some small talk, she said that we will listen to the heartbeat. My heart was racing. I was sweating. I was hopeful. She put the little ultrasound gadget on my abdomen and right away, the most beautiful sound came on "woosh, woosh, woosh" beating at 160 bpm! My little wee one is thriving. My body is doing it! I am doing this!!! I am officially out of the first trimester, the odds for me and my baby have gone up considerably. Am I still out of the danger zone, no, I am not, but I am hopeful that the Lord will allow me to have one more little one. I am hopeful that we will both make it through the next 6 months.
I think the miscarriage taught a lot that I had never imagined before. The fear that enters our hearts is indescribable. It is hard not to hope and not to have dreams about this little bundle, especially when you want it so badly. Yet, having had the miscarriage taught me that even the one thing I have "some control over", my body, that I cannot really control it. It taught me to fear, to fear simple routine checkups. It taught to fear everything I do. As such, when people tell me with an accusing tone "you are still lifting and running?" it bothers me, not because it is a thoughtless comment (although it may be) but because if they only knew how much I love and want this baby, I wouldn't do anything in this world to jeopardize my pregnancy. The truth is that if I am going to miscarry, there is nothing on this earth that I can do about it. I learned that lesson in November. I cried. I begged. I prayed. I stopped doing everything and anything physical to save my pregnancy, and I couldn't do anything. Even the doctor said, if the pregnancy is not viable, your body will end it, there is nothing we can do about it, or you can do about it. It is hard to lose this control. It is hard to accept that we do not have control over these things--believe me, I am a control freak and this one episode in my life has taught me what 37 years of life hasn't been able to in that time period.