Wednesday, April 21, 2010

32 Wks, 3 Days: From a Deep, Dark Place

I have a confession to make. About once a week, J, E, and I would cheat and go and get something to eat. I really saw no difference between this and going to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich, which was allowed. It kept me somewhat sane.


I don't want to anymore. I don't have any desire to do anything. It is all I can do to bathe. I cannot believe I just publically admitted that on the internet, but I don't even have the gumption to take a shower. Of course I do, because I am not an animal, but that is about all I can manage.

The pain rips through my body like a tornado. There are no longer breaks between these contractions. I am spending my time in a Percocet fog, in bed, no longer able to see an end in sight. My doctors continue to insist that I go to the hospital for more than 6 painful contractions in an hour. How do I explain to them that I have more than that in 10 minutes, consistently? That they all hurt.

I'm having flashbacks to 2 weeks ago. At my appointment, when I told them that I would get to this point, and I was reassured that they would not allow me to lay and suffer any longer than needed. How stupid was I to believe that? I simply do not matter. And I could live with that a little while longer. I really could.

What can I not live with? The fact that my 8-year-old son tried to hug me last night before bed and I screamed out in pain. What scars am I leaving on him??? And J. Bless his heart. He left with E yesterday and returned with dinner from my favorite pizza place and a movie I have really been wanting to see. He just wanted to make me smile, so I faked it. I made myself sit through the movie, when all I really wanted to do was curl into a ball in bed, away from the rest of the world. I feel so badly for them both. They do not deserve this--the endless trips to the hospital, the mentally-absent mother/wife. E has a field trip to he zoo on Monday, and he desperately wants one of us to go. I obviously cannot. And J had to say no also, because how could he leave me alone for 6 to 8 hours, not knowing what emergency could develop? My kid deserves to have a normal life. There are just some prices children should not have to pay.

The hardest part for me? My own thoughts. I cannot help but to think "what if I hadn't gotten pregnant?". I would be in school right now, finishing up. I would still be working away. I wouldn't have pain. I would be free. When my son wanted an expensive new toy, I woudn't have to stop and thnk about what it was going to do to the family budget. There would be no telling him that mommy can't go to this function or that function, or this place or that place. I could once again make him smile. But then I feel overwhelming guilt and sadness. Because Zachary does not deserve for me to have those thoughts, either. But I am only human.

The other day, J an I were going to the hospital, and we passed a pregnant woman in the hall. We heard her giggling as she talked to someone at a desk, when they asked her when she was due. "Last week", she giggled as she stroked her belly. And J looked at me and asked why that could not be me. Why can't I be bouncing around, happy and content? Why can't I feel the delicious anticipation of a new baby coming, as I plan and shop and decorate a nursery? I simply do not know.

I have been trying and trying, since Tuesday when the doctor uttered the dreaded "37 Weeks", to get myself out of this mood. I cannot. Honestly? I want to die. I cannot live like this anymore, but before someone gets all worked up about that statement, let me assure whoever is reading this that I am not that stupid. I want to, but I won't. I would do nothing to hurt this baby or myself. I realize this is temporary, that I will have my life back, that I cannot possibly be pregnant forever. And so I will keep fighting.

1 comment:

  1. When I see pregnant women all primped up and looking happy- and I see more of them on TV than in person because I rarely get to go out - I also get jealous. I think the same thing that your husband verbalized. Why can't that be me?

    I also know what it's like to fake a smile. Sometimes they feel so helpless that they will do anything to try to make you happy - if even for a moment. That was incredibly kind of you to put on a happy face and show your gratitude by grin and bearing the movie along with the pain. I'm sure that made your husband feel like he could have some control in this situation.

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