Waiting...

So just two more days until we go and find out how the baby is doing. From my perpective baby is still very active and seems to be doing well. However, I want to see the ultrasound and know one way or another what is going on. I think this is all a lesson in patience for me. Never my strong suit, this experience has tested my patience like NO other.

I am also getting just slightly bitter over little things. Like I've had let's count them - 7 sonograms - the Pediatric Cardiologist alone took over 60 images - and I have NOT a single b&w of this baby. Yes, I understand this is petty and not a huge deal and I am trying to keep my chin up but I can't help but feel a little cheated. This is supposed to be a happy and joyous time. The calm before the storm. The time to make your husband wait on you hand and foot because you can. I am telling you all the fun of that is totally removed when you NEED your husband to wait on you hand and foot.

I ended up having a MISERABLE Wednesday after the smooth procedure last Tuesday. I felt great the rest of Tuesday, kept off my feet, rested, ate well, slept well. Woke up Wednesday morning feeling like I was going through detox. Now I know why addicts are addicts - well at least some of them - its not because they LOVE the drugs, its because the withdrawl is so horrible. I had one i/v of narcotics & sedation for the procedure followed by an entire day, from about 9 am until at least 10 pm of horrible headache and puking. Next time (if there is a next time) I say just do the procedure, forget the sedation. I was fine without it for the amnio. I mean no its not comfortable and yes this is a little more than an amnio, but 3 minutes of discomfort - even if somewhat significant - is far better in my opinion than 12 hours of feeling like I want to die.

I think most people are a bit more easily freaked out than I am and perhaps have a lower threshold for pain. I mean, I was totally calm, asked for the MINIMUM possible dose because I know how loopy it can make me & was collected and asking questions during the procedure. The docs humored me and seemed very happy to endulge my questions like "Is that the lung that just inflated?" "Is that is, are you done?" "Did you get all the fluid?" "What does it look like?" Immediately before the procedure, Dr. G had told me that he hoped the fluid would be Chyle and that it had a distinct look to it. They would have to test it of course to confirm but that he would know pretty much right away whether it was possible or not. Hence my questions.

I think we are consistently surprising them with our composure and our questions. Don't get me wrong I don't feel so composed sometimes but I think some people when faced with something like this simply can't cope. At first, my worst fear was just that. And at first, I admit I did just want to crawl in a hole until it was over. That lasted for 3 days. The 3 days between the very first indication of a problem and when we went back for the test results. The 3 longest days of my life. Still, since then, though hard, very very hard at times, I think I've pretty much pulled it together. I still cry. I worry constantly. And, yes, I feel a bit cheated. But in the long run, if we can get through this none of that will matter. If we can just get to the other side, I know I will be fine.