So, unless you are in my inner circle (you know who you are) you may not know this, but I am a closet worrier. I work very hard at hiding this fact from others. As a a matter of fact, I not only hide my own worry, I protect OTHER people in my life so they won't worry either. I tend to sugar coat, downplay, and appear downright cold and fearless in the face of life's struggles. But since this blog is all about letting people into my brain, I am going to be honest with you, my brain has been chock full of anxiety and questions for the last 48 hours.
As most of you know, I am sixteen weeks pregnant with my third child. I pretty much lived in a CONSTANT state of worry for my other two pregnancies, but this time I decided to be different. So once I heard that tiny heartbeat, I decided to do my best to trust God and enjoy the ride. You see, worry steals our joy. It eats away at us. When things are going well, it makes us hold our breathe waiting for something to go wrong. When things are going wrong it eats into our faith and makes us feel like we are tossed into a storm of random tragedy. Worry makes us forget that our God is in control.
I had been doing pretty well at this (for me) until my son got sick. Now, fifth's disease is not a big deal for a child so I was really quite glad that my son's strange illness was so harmless. He should be back to new in no time. But then I was blind-sided by the fact that it is dangerous for babies in utero, fatally dangerous at times. My doctor immediately sent me for blood work to see if I had indeed been exposed to or contracted the disease. Now, I wait....Clocks tick, the furnace kicks in, I hear my husband sleeping away, but I wait... My brain can not let go of the possibilities.
Now I could dwell on the positives here, as there are many. I may be immune already, 50% of adults are. I may not have caught it even if I'm not. Even if I DO have it, not all mommas pass it to their babies, and out of those babies, many are completely fine, 9 out of 10 actually.
I want so desperately to think about those things, and to believe them. This is the information I use to reassure everyone else, but it is lost on me. Maybe because I already KNOW this baby. Maybe because it is already tickling my stomach and sharing my blood. But my mind can not see this baby as a 9 in 10 chance, or even a 9 in a 1000 chance. This baby is mine.
No I can only continue to dwell on the 1 in 10. The baby that never comes home.
Probably it will all be okay. Probably I am immune. Probably when I get my labs it will all be fine and you will all forget about this, writing it off as a mom who worried too much about the future. But I can assure you,
I will never forget this fear, like my own heart might stop beating. May it make me forever humble and overwhelmed by the grace of my God, one who has given me two healthy children, and just may see fit to give me this one too.