I Don't Wanna!

I've had nine pregnancies.  Nine.  That's a lot.  Maybe not to the Duggars, but to average American family, it's a whole lot more swollen ankles and morning sickness than most women choose to subject themselves to.  Most days I love it, some days I know I have to have some kind of screw loose to do this on purpose.

I think after 3 healthy babies (Autism not included) I let myself get comfortable with pregnancy again.  So, when the Perinatologist delivered Liam's diagnosis, I felt personally betrayed.  The only thing they were supposed to tell me after Sarah was, "Looks great!" or "It's a boy!" though I wouldn't have objected to "It's a girl!" either.

Now I'm to be followed by Perinatology.  I don't get to hang out with Dr. S. who is one of a whole small boatload of kids himself and doesn't think I'm weird (or any weirder than I actually am).  I know that Perinatology didn't create Liam's Encephalocele.  I know that they would have loved to have given me one of the answers I was looking for.  But my Mama heart doesn't always seem to be in any way connected to my logical brain.  So, I've been thinking of ways to keep seeing my regular OB so that I can still feel like a normal pregnant lady.

But I can't.  I need to be followed closely by Perinatology.  This was supposed to be my last pregnancy.  I was going to soak in every minute and enjoy.  Now I'm back in the "controlled hysteria" place that I pretty much lived in after Sarah died and I got pregnant with Ciaran.

So, what do I do to handle this?  To be honest, I'd like to find comfort in a daily pint of Ben & Jerry's, but that's so not good for anyone.  So, I'm doing a lot of meditation, reading books not related to babies, avoiding Dr. Google a lot more, and blogging to get it all out.  I think that's the most I can ask of myself right now.