More than "pregnancy brain"
I am having trouble keeping track of everything.
Like: today, a genetic clinic called to schedule my new patient appointment, and I have no idea why they're calling or when it was decided I needed to do that.
Like: remembering what food to buy and prepare for the wedding shower this weekend at my house, the baby shower the following weekend, and the other baby shower at the end of May.
Like: explaining why we're giving birth at United versus St. John's. It made perfect sense at the time of the echocardiogram appointment, but was it really just because St. John's doesn't have a surgeon staffed 24/7 in case we need one? Or was there more to it?
Like: wondering who knows that Caden has Down syndrome and who doesn't (such as at work) and interpreting their questions and little statements about pregnancy/birth/parenthood accordingly. And then being angry at myself that I still think that way, dividing it into Who Knows and Who Doesn't Know.
Like: reminding myself what's going on in other peoples' lives so I don't become too self-absorbed in my own.
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I need to write about this entire experience. I can feel the itching in my soul, the pokes of memories frothing up in the background of my mind, wanting to be documented. But I don't feel like I have time to do that yet. So the pieces come out in fluttering fragments of confetti, an image here, a feeling there, a note to be sure I remember this experience.
I feel like I knew what I was doing and where I stood, up until the perinatal appointments. I was able to go to my midwife appointments without requesting off work; my pregnancy was progressing normally and naturally; I had the usual pre-mother worries, but nothing excessive. Certainly nothing like these numbers running around through my head: 25% increased risk of fetal loss/stillbirth...75% chance of hearing problems...15% increased risk for childhood leukemia...
Now it's hours' long appointments and three different doctors (geneticist, cardiologist, obstetrician) and who-knows-how-many-other-medical/other-staff (nurses, social workers, sonographers, birth advocate) and more appointments. And of course, none of them can be done outside work. I have to somehow try to juggle them into my work day and make up the time and waste my time off that I was saving up for my maternity leave.
Some days I really envy those parents who find out their child has Down syndrome at birth. I can't imagine the shock and difficulty in trying to mourn AND take care of a child. And yet, facing the shock and going through mourning without the comfort of the child--the physical presence and need and love from the child--the proof that the baby is still just our baby--is just as difficult.
Plus, even though I know it isn't necessarily true, I keep thinking that all those who find out the diagnosis at birth or even after birth obviously have such a healthy child that they had no reason to find out the diagnosis early. Like, no AVSD and heart surgery. No GI tract problems. No markers on the ultrasound to alarm anyone. No perinatal appointments and stress tests and echocardiograms every-other week. No worrying if their placenta is going to fail their baby and leave an immobile lump inside where a squirming, kicking Caden once was.
It's not true and it's not any easier, but today I am envying those parents all the same.
Some days I am on top and can face this Down syndrome business. Other days it kicks me back to square one.
Don't worry; I'm not as bad as this post may sound. I'm frazzled and stressed and envious, but I'm not giving up and I still love Caden with all my heart. I just want a maternity leave AND a pre-maternity leave to try to fit in everything that's happening right now.
Like: today, a genetic clinic called to schedule my new patient appointment, and I have no idea why they're calling or when it was decided I needed to do that.
Like: remembering what food to buy and prepare for the wedding shower this weekend at my house, the baby shower the following weekend, and the other baby shower at the end of May.
Like: explaining why we're giving birth at United versus St. John's. It made perfect sense at the time of the echocardiogram appointment, but was it really just because St. John's doesn't have a surgeon staffed 24/7 in case we need one? Or was there more to it?
Like: wondering who knows that Caden has Down syndrome and who doesn't (such as at work) and interpreting their questions and little statements about pregnancy/birth/parenthood accordingly. And then being angry at myself that I still think that way, dividing it into Who Knows and Who Doesn't Know.
Like: reminding myself what's going on in other peoples' lives so I don't become too self-absorbed in my own.
-------------------------------------------------------
I need to write about this entire experience. I can feel the itching in my soul, the pokes of memories frothing up in the background of my mind, wanting to be documented. But I don't feel like I have time to do that yet. So the pieces come out in fluttering fragments of confetti, an image here, a feeling there, a note to be sure I remember this experience.
I feel like I knew what I was doing and where I stood, up until the perinatal appointments. I was able to go to my midwife appointments without requesting off work; my pregnancy was progressing normally and naturally; I had the usual pre-mother worries, but nothing excessive. Certainly nothing like these numbers running around through my head: 25% increased risk of fetal loss/stillbirth...75% chance of hearing problems...15% increased risk for childhood leukemia...
Now it's hours' long appointments and three different doctors (geneticist, cardiologist, obstetrician) and who-knows-how-many-other-medical/other-staff (nurses, social workers, sonographers, birth advocate) and more appointments. And of course, none of them can be done outside work. I have to somehow try to juggle them into my work day and make up the time and waste my time off that I was saving up for my maternity leave.
Some days I really envy those parents who find out their child has Down syndrome at birth. I can't imagine the shock and difficulty in trying to mourn AND take care of a child. And yet, facing the shock and going through mourning without the comfort of the child--the physical presence and need and love from the child--the proof that the baby is still just our baby--is just as difficult.
Plus, even though I know it isn't necessarily true, I keep thinking that all those who find out the diagnosis at birth or even after birth obviously have such a healthy child that they had no reason to find out the diagnosis early. Like, no AVSD and heart surgery. No GI tract problems. No markers on the ultrasound to alarm anyone. No perinatal appointments and stress tests and echocardiograms every-other week. No worrying if their placenta is going to fail their baby and leave an immobile lump inside where a squirming, kicking Caden once was.
It's not true and it's not any easier, but today I am envying those parents all the same.
Some days I am on top and can face this Down syndrome business. Other days it kicks me back to square one.
Don't worry; I'm not as bad as this post may sound. I'm frazzled and stressed and envious, but I'm not giving up and I still love Caden with all my heart. I just want a maternity leave AND a pre-maternity leave to try to fit in everything that's happening right now.