Fear and anxiety

This pregnancy has been marred by the past. I feel a lot of anxiety and fear. A previous miscarriage will do that.

Most days, I feel fine. Normal perhaps. Or at least ignoring the pregnancy as much as I can, going about my normal daily life.  I don't want to get too close. I don't want to bond with the baby. I'm too scared. So I just try and push it all aside.

This is the latest I have felt a baby move in all my pregnancies. Or at least, I think its the baby moving. I second-guess it all the time. It could just be gas or digestion, right? Its still the slightest movement, or what I think could be slight movements. Its hard to tell at this point. By this time with both the boys, I was no longer feeling the flutters, but full out kicking.

A week or two before an appointment, I feel riddled with fear. I wonder if there will be a heartbeat. I wonder if this baby will "make it." I wonder if I will need to go through the sadness again. I don't want to loose this baby. But that is my greatest fear.

Today my anxiety was high. I had my 18 week midwife appointment. Another time to hear that little ones heartbeat. (We've heard it twice before, at our dating ultrasound and during my 12 week appointment). But this time, I felt more anxiety than before. Perhaps because I am further along than before. Or perhaps because of anxious thoughts that have plagued me this past week. I went in anxious, yet tried hard to hide it. I just feared that this would be the day I would hear that this baby was no longer.

We proceeded with our regular appointment, a physical of sorts. Until the moment of truth came. It was time to hear the heartbeat. The experienced midwife put the doppler to my belly and nothing. No sounds of movement. No heartbeat. She continues to move it around to no avail. She reassures me that she hears my uterine arteries which means there is a baby. But that brings no reassurance to my aching heart. I wonder if the baby has no heartbeat and has died. I pray, God please let us hear this baby's heart. She continues to search for the baby. Nothing. Minutes tick by. I try to reassure her and myself as well. "It took a long time to find Joel's heartbeat" I didn't mention out loud that he was moving the entire time and we literally had to pin him down to hear his little heart.  All I can think is that this baby is gone. I still pray. We hear more uterine arteries. The midwife tries more positions, places where she doesn't think a baby should be. Still nothing. Fear and anxiety are creeping in. I'm doing all I can to hold in the tears. Seconds continue to tick by. Then, all of a sudden, I hear the faint whop, whop, whop of a baby. Suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with relief. Joy. Praise! I try not to cry, merely so that the doppler won't loose the heartbeat and pick up on my sobs. 152 beats per minute.

There is something about this heartbeat that brings me to tears every single time. I'm overwhelmed hearing this little baby, alive and well. The midwife comments that this baby is a mover and shaker. That statement elicits a different sort of fear. We love our children, but thoughts of another spirited child bring fear of a different sort. A lifetime of sleeplessness and energy, a different sort of temperament, and intense parenting.

But for some reason, that little heartbeat still brings anxiety. I wonder if this child will be born sick or with some sort of defect. I still hold this baby at arms length. Until its ultrasound in two weeks, I'm not sure I will allow myself to bond with this baby. I'm still full of fear and anxiety.

I've been told not to let the past affect the future. Most days, I'm okay. But some days, anxiety takes hold and grips me with fear. We are praying for a healthy baby. A living baby. A baby with a strong, steady heartbeat. And a little less fear and a lot more peace.