Irrational

Posted on September 8, 2008

I don’t think that its a great secret that it took us awhile to get pregnant with Chloe.  After a year and a half of trying, we were actually in the pre-stages of fertility treatment when I got pregnant.  (They did that dye treatment thing where they shot dye into my uterus to make sure that there wasn’t any scarring in my fallopian tubes.)  A month later I peed on a stick and a little plus sign appeared.  I was ECSTATIC.  That stupid biological clock had been ticking for awhile, and this was my first sign that I was actually going to get what I wanted.  A trip to the doctor confirmed I was pregnant, with the unfortunate realization that the baby was likely to be be born around Christmas (December 26th due date.) Not that I cared.

Then, at six weeks pregnant, I was in a car accident.  It wasn’t a major accident.  But it was enough to send a giant jolt through my whole system.  I figured everything was fine.  After all, it wasn’t that big a deal.

Two weeks later, when we went to the doctor for our first “official” prenatal visit, they couldn’t find a pulse.  The poor nurse had to break the news, and I insisted on seeing an actual doctor, who confirmed.  Just in case they were wrong, they suggested I take a blood test to see where my hormonal levels where.  Needles to say, everything came back to the obvious.  I had lost the baby.  On top of all this, I didn’t just miscarry, they had to perform a DNC because the failed fetus was still inside of me.  The worst moment of my life was when, at the hospital, the nurse asked me, “Do you want us to keep the baby for you to bury?”

The next three months were a roller coaster.  I didn’t have a rubella shot, so I had one the same day I had the DNC.  I had to wait three months before conceiving to make sure the effects didn’t harm the baby.  Finally, we were able to try again, and thus…Chloe.

However, my pregnancy with her wasn’t picture perfect.  When I was six weeks pregnant, I had a full period.  I already knew I was pregnant, I wasn’t telling anyone (especially not after the last fiasco, where for months I had to tell people that I had lost the baby.)  And, to say the least, it was heart breaking.   Oddly enough, this is somewhat normal, of course nobody told me that.  For an entire weekend, all I did was cry.

At eight weeks, we went the doctor, and they confirmed I was pregnant, there was an obvious heartbeat, and we were back in the “game.”

At 16 weeks, they did a blood test, and discovered that I had certain elevated levels that led them to believe that the baby was at risk for spina bifida.  They told me this over the phone while I was as work.  My principal took one look at me and told me to go home.  They scheduled a heavy duty ultra major techno savvy ultrasound.  And, we had to talk to a genealogist.

At 18 weeks, the techno ultrasound and genealogist confirmed that our baby appeared to be completely normal, except for the fact that she was breech.  Which, of course, could change at any moment during the pregnancy.

It didn’t.  Now, a little bit more background…I had scoliosis as a child, and as a result, when I was twelve I had MAJOR back surgery and I have steel rods grafted on my spine.  Now, I was told by several experts that this wasn’t going to effect my ability to give birth.  Of course, I don’t think any of them were considering a breech birth.  Especially not a “footling” breech (where Chloe’s feet were literally IN my cervix.)  I knew that no matter the circumstances, it was more that likely that I was going to have to do natural childbirth due to the scar tissue on my spine.

When we found out she was breech, everybody had suggestions for “turning” her.  I layed upside down on my brother’s “conversion table” until I was worried about other kinds of damage.  I did all the YOGA positions people suggested.  I even went to an acupuncturist and let her burn large bundles of sage between my toes.

I didn’t want to miss out on that “rite of passage” when you look lovingly at your husband and say, “I think it’s time.”  Then he runs around the house finding the car keys and getting the suitcase, trying to remind you to “breath” while he hyperventilates.

It became pretty clear, this wasn’t going to be our experience.  Instead, I knew I was going to have Chloe on May 3rd.  We actually scheduled it.

Doc:  Hmmm, the first time I am on during the day is May 3rd at 11:00am.

Me:  (Looking at my calendar) That’s a Wednesday, is there any way you can fit me in on a Monday, or maybe a Friday?  It would be easier for my school schedule.

Doc:  No, that’s the only daytime opening I have.

Me:  Okay, is there anyway you can write a note to my insurance company letting me end work on that Friday so I can have a couple days to prepare?

Doc:  Sure, I can do that.

From then on, when people asking me when I was due, I could tell them, “11:00 on May 3rd.”  Of course, they all gave me that look, “what does she know, first time mother.”  But, I KNEW.  That was my END DATE.

On the morning of May 3rd, since we didn’t have to be to the hospital until. 9:00am, I INSISTED we put together this little chair for Chloe, so she would have somewhere to sit when we got her home.  I had the song “Are you ready for this” by who knows who running through my head from the time I woke up that morning.

In preparation for the “voluntary” c-section (like I had a choice) we had to wait for several other “critical”  births to happen, so we didn’t head for the operating room until well after 12:00 pm.  The anesthesiologist had obviously never looked at my chart.  When he came to the room to prepare me for the epidural, he had no idea that I had back surgery.  I warned him, but he still insisted that it should be fine.  They brought me to the operating room and told John that it was more than likely that he would have to leave before the c-section, they weren’t sure he could handle watching me get the epidural.  I was desperate for him to stay, I wanted at least one of us to see her being born.

The anesthesiologist did the first attempt at epidural, and then he said, “wow, there is a lot of scar tissue here, I am not sure this is going to work.”  Inside, I wanted to slap him silly for giving me hope, but I said, “keep trying, I want to be awake when  she is born.” After three attempts, I just didn’t care anymore.  He had decided that John was capable of staying, and that was enough for me.  They put me under general anesthesia, and when I awoke, I had Chloe.  She was born around 1:00 pm on May 3rd.

As a consequence, I barely remember Chloe’s birth.  John had a video camera with him, and I made him promise me that NO MATTER what happened to me, he needed to follow the baby.  And he did.  I only remember the first hours of Chloe’s life because of second hand technology.

Two years later, it doesn’t matter.  This is my child, however she got here, no matter how long it took us to get her here, she is here.

Nine hours from now (I am realizing it is after midnight) I will drop her off for her first class without Mommy.

Now, for most of you, you will think this is a silly accomplishment and not one worth noting.  But, for me, I am realizing that almost three years ago on about this date, I was being assured that I was actually pregnant and that this child had gone through the worst of the natural trials of first conception.

Chloe has been a Mommy’s girl from the beginning.  And I have dreaded leaving her for any reason because I REMEMBER how much pain and suffering I endured to have her.  I am irrationally TERRIFIED that something, anything, will happen to her and I won’t be there to save her.

But, at the same time, she needs to have the confidence that she can do things without me.  I need her to know that she is capable of surviving on her own.  Because no matter how hard it was to get her here, she has to live in a world that DOESN’T CARE.  And, I as a loving mother, have to prepare her for that.  But, it’s 12:52 AM.  And I am the only person in the entire world that’s worried about her first day of “school.”  Isn’t that MY rite of passage, no matter how irrational it may be?