The experience of other pregnant women on the internet told me that, yes, it is very often nothing at all. But the worry and cause for additional screening and testing is: Down syndrome.
Down syndrome.
Part of me knows that there is a only chance. That is it unlikely and I shouldn’t worry. That I should suspend all worry until I know more. But another part of me spent today near tears, wondering how our life would be different if we had a baby like this and feeling guilty for terrible thoughts that followed. I teared up when a coworker sent me an email: “our little ones will definitely have play dates!” Would she still want to play with my little boy if he looks different? Lots of teachers found out at lunch, and as they congratulated me, I couldn’t help but feel half-hearted about it.
I didn’t expect to be so worried. I didn’t expect to be so upset. I didn’t expect to think the worst. I am level-headed. I am reasonable. I don’t get worried unless there is cause for worry.
The rest of the day was a roller coaster of emotions.
Then Mike came home; we didn’t talk. He just sat down on the couch, opened his arms, and I climbed on his lap, sobbing into his neck. After I cried for a long, long time – I told him everything. I relayed my conversations with the midwife and the perinatologist’s office. I told him my worst fears. I cried some more.
And then I went on a long walk – I’m not sure if it was the fresh air, the solitude, the sunshine, or the abundance of budding trees and daffodils – but I came back with a renewed sense of peace. A renewed sense of it’s all okay. A renewed sense of hope.
I’m not sure how I’ll feel tomorrow – but for now? I’m okay. I have hope. I am not worrying.
I do wish our appointment was before next Wednesday, though. A week wait to find out what is going on with our baby? Excruciating.
(Thank you for all of your support today – it means more to me than I think I can express. Every time I got a tweet or email, my heart swelled a bit.)
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