Saturday, June 2, 2012

Known unknowns

This hasn't been an easy pregnancy. Early on it was physically more challenging than the previous ones, except for the nausea, which was better than with either of the boys. But as time went on, physically it has become less hard than the last time around. Not in every aspect (carpal tunnel is definitely worse, for example), but on aggregate I am fairly confident that this is the case. I also feel more compact, move easier, and, to be completely honest, look better than last time. I think most of that can be attributed to the Insanity thing I did last summer. As evidence I proffer my upper arms-- there's actually still some definition there, all these months later. Most importantly, I've only had two visits to L&D so far, and no hospitalizations. With the Cub, at the dates I am now I was newly back from a weekend of mag sulfate and steroids at the hospital.

What has been hard is the uncertainty. Hard isn't even the exact right word here. Exhausting is probably more apt. And by this I don't mean the the global kind of anxiety, the will she or won't she make it kind. That kind I try not to even allow myself to entertain, though I know it's always there. The way I know is that it jumps out of whatever fold dark corner it hides in to grab me by the throat with its cold clammy hand every time I am not sure I've felt enough activity in the last X amount of time. But here I mean more the pedestrian kind of anxiety, where every plan is by default soft and subject to however the hell the day will unfold.

Real contractions started a week earlier than with the Cub, at 28 weeks and one day. That happened to be the day of my first BPP, and Dr. Best was there for it. I joke that I get to call the contractions stupid because they are not doing anything to the cervix. Which, of course, if I am to have contractions, is the way I'd prefer them, thankyouverymuch. And since they are non-productive,  their effect is to annoy me, and to occasionally royally mess up my immediate plans by either causing me to surrender to the couch or to actually send me to L&D.

Each individual episode of sustained contractions is not what is actually exhausting. Sometimes they are, if they impact my ability to sleep. But most of the time it's rather the possibility that a day may include such an episode, or that the amount of activity might decrease enough to cause concern that messes with my head. I get up in the morning with some idea of what I absolutely need to accomplish that day and what would be nice to accomplish. But all of that is against the background of knowing that even absolutely need to is more like hopefully will be able to.

Those absolutely need to items are about immediate and essential needs-- food, transportation, clean dishes. The would be nice to accomplish items are things that make life feel less out of control-- excavate the bedroom, for example (almost finished now; and please don't ask me how long it'd been since we let things begin to pile up in that corner and on that surface and also over there-- it's actually embarrassing), or plant this year's garden (not done, but hopefully Monday), or do all the laundry as opposed to just the most critical load or two, or clear up the sewing/mending pile. I've been making slow, but steady progress through that list since the semester ended. But it's not done, and, realistically, done is well more than a day away.

I think that if I could clear this list, I would feel less anxious in general. I mean checking things off a list is always gratifying, but here especially getting things off the list means they won't need to be done after, however after turns out. But maybe I am kidding myself. Maybe this is just the level of crazy that a pregnancy inspires in me now, and if I solved this bit, I would find that the hum of my inner monitors would pick up to compensate. There's only one way to find out, though, and that is to clear the list and see what happens. If I manage to get that done, I guess we'll find out.   

5 comments:

Sara said...

If you get rid of all those "would be nice" to-do's, you'll make me feel bad. So consider it charity. I keep thinking, if this baby comes home, it would be nice if the place were cleaner. It would be nice if we'd finished a bunch of tasks for the move. It would be nice if I'd actually opened the infant clothing rubbermaids, it would be nice if I had the diapers sorted out. But then I figure, there will be time for that later. I appear to be dealing with anxiety by refusing to think about things at all.

I'll be thinking of you constantly the next few days--I know these are the hardest to get through.

Rachel said...

I can't believe that the Cub is 4. That is a long time that you have been blogging and I have been reading, and I'm definitely back to reading again. I am sorry to hear about the loss of your grandmother and hoping that all will be peaceful and well in the upcoming days.

Heather said...

I'm with you on the contractions. Mine started at 24w4d. Just like yours, annoying and non-productive but disruptive to my day none the less.

Here's to hoping things stay calm enough for you to accomplish some of the things on your to do list and feel a little calmer about everything.

erica said...

I hope that the to-do list gets whittled down to where you can relax a bit more. If that is possible, and I hope it is. Thinking of you as you move through these exhausting days.

Julia said...

Beruriah, I am sure it's impossible for me to make anyone else look bad, simply due to the average length of time items spend on my to-do list.

Heather, jeez... 24-4. That sucks. Hope you get more days off from them than days with them.

And thank you, ladies, for the support. I really appreciate it.