I can’t stop worrying about Bean and Peanut.
My mind cycles through the same fears, over and over and over. It’s something like this:
Peanut is smaller than Bean. Peanut’s heart rate is slower than Bean’s. What if Peanut doesn’t make it? Won’t we feel silly for having told everyone about him? If Peanut doesn’t make it, there are potential consequences for Bean. Is R getting enough food? Is one prenatal vitamin enough? Maybe she needs more. I should write to Dr. A and ask. No, I shouldn’t write to Dr. A because he’s going to think I’m a nervous ninny. I am a nervous ninny. But Peanut is smaller than Bean. Is that normal? Maybe I should search fertility forums about gestational sac size and fetal heart rate. [Spends 2 hours pouring over postings from the mid-1990’s] Well, that was unsatisfactory. Let me search the medical literature for articles about the correlation between gestational sac size and perinatal outcomes. [Spends 2 hours reading said articles] That was mildly satisfactory…But…Peanut is smaller than Bean. Is R getting enough to eat? If I eat extra food does that count? I’ll eat a cookie. That will help. Then the mean household caloric intake will be a little closer to the requirement for MoMs.*
So in other words, friends, I am a Class A Worrier. I am a bit embarrassed to post my fears here, because I know it makes me seem neurotic. Not that I am. (Right?!?)
I keep thinking I’ll feel better after the next doctor’s visit. Or, I’ll breathe easier once we make it 9 weeks (when the risk of miscarriage goes down to 1.5%). But I know me! I know this routine! We’ll reach 9 weeks and then I’ll just fret until the next milestone. And the next. A few days ago I heard this still, small voice saying “Yoohoo, A, welcome to parenthood, where there’s always something to worry about!”
If I keep marking time by milestones, I’ll soon be saying I’ll feel better once they’re walking. I’ll breathe easier after the parent-teacher conference…and while I’m waiting for some measure of safety I’ll miss out on the joy here, now. So the first lesson of Motherhood – let go of worry and be present. Be here, now.
*MoMs – the cutesy acronym for Mother of Multiples.