So, yesterday I walked into my OB's office for a routine yearly check up. It is somehow easier these days. The office has moved and so the new (beautiful) building doesn't really stir up the memories that the old building did. I checked in, got my pager and took a seat. I looked around at the pregnant women sitting all around me wondering what their story was. Sometimes I seriously have to stop myself from running up to every pregnant woman and warning them that sometimes pregnancy is not followed by a blissful birth and healthy baby. I restrained myself and looked out at the sailboats all over the lake. My mind kept wandering, wishing I was sitting there, a naive pregnant woman filled with hope and joy for my future, unaware that an OB's office was anything but a happy place, anxiously awaiting my ultrasound to see if I would buy pink or blue.
My pager buzzed. I went back and stepped on the scale...ugh...this story goes down hill from here. Despite great effort, I have not lost a pound since my last appointment four months ago. I am weighing in at the heaviest I have ever been. It is frustrating and disheartening. I went in, had my blood pressure taken (which was excellent), undressed and waited for the doctor.
Now, I need to preface this next paragraph with this: My doctor, Dr. B, has been my OBGYN since I was 17. He knows me. He is a wonderful guy. He has walked through the teenage, college, and childbearing/losing years with me. He has taken my losses hard. He is a compassionate guy who has children of his own and I could tell it has always been hard for him to have to be the bearer of bad news. He is a GREAT doctor.
SO, back to the story...he walks in asks how the kids are, asks how my day is and says "Whew, can I just tell you how relieved I am that you are not pregnant or ready to deliver?" My heart stops beating momentarily. Tears well up in my eyes. I choke them back and nod. He goes on to ask about birth control, and how Hope is doing. He finishes the exam and asks how I am feeling physically.
The floodgates open. Tears begin to fall despite my best effort. I begin to tell him how awful I feel, I can't lose weight, I can't seem to regulate my sleep, my emotions or my monthly cycle. I am barely hanging on and I am sure I must be dying.
He puts his hand on my knee, and says, "Girl, you have had how many babies in how many years?" (FIVE in SIX), "Right, I know you want yourself back, and you will get there but you have got to cut yourself some slack. You are doing great. You have lost two babies, are a mom to three young kids, a wife, dealt with the diagnosis of EB for Hope, and JUST finished breastfeeding. I know you want to feel human again, and I promise you...it is coming, but it takes time." I went on to tell him that I just felt like something must be wrong. He asked when the last time I had a Complete Blood Count test was. I had just had one a couple of months ago at my GP along with a Cholesterol, Diabetes, and liver panel. Everything was normal. He assured me I was fine. He encouraged me to eat well, get rest, exercise and call him in a couple of months if I wasn't feeling better.
I left the office feeling defeated. I know having more babies would not be great for my body, but why does my heart still want them so badly? Will it always feel like this because two of my babies will always be missing? Could I have five hundred kids and still feel incomplete? I know I am blessed, I know that, I hate that I still feel this way. I am 31 years old (I know November 1, is just around the corner but I am clinging to 31 with every breath), and yet I feel 82. I started a B12 and a D3 supplement this week in addition to my vitamin and am hoping it will help keep me healthy through flu season and maybe give me a boost. Sometimes something as simple and mundane as an OBGYN appointment can take it all out of you. I have to admit...I felt a little relief walking into a doctor's office NOT holding my breath to hear a heartbeat or see a developing baby, I get what he was saying and I am thankful he cares, it was a little like salt on an open wound though and it is still stinging.
The truth is, I am not a naive pregnant woman. I am a mom. A mom of five gorgeous babies that the Lord trusted me with. Three are here on earth and two are in Heaven and I am blessed. I sometimes daydream about going back to the age of naivety but if I am honest, I am learning to own my own story. The truth is that if I were to go back to life before pregnancy, and God told me, "Kristy, you will carry five babies in your womb. Each baby will bring immense blessings, but your second and fourth babies will join me in Heaven shortly after entering your arms. There will be loss and pain, but also joy.", if he told me that I'd still do it again. I would. In a minute. I hurt, it stings, but I am blessed...God chose me for this, I pray I never waste it. So, if you are a pregnant woman or a woman who is pregnant and you are reading this...NEVER fear. It is true, babies live and babies die. The truth remains, they are blessings, gifts from our God who loves us. They change us and help us become the people God wants us to be and even when it hurts it is an amazing privilege.