It’s been interesting being thrown back into the world of Obstetrics. Our first 12 weeks spent within the safe confines of infertility where we are a quiet and focused bunch. The waiting room is a sacred place where everyone is mindful of the painful journey and not everyone is in the same spot. Some are grieving, some are praying for continued success, and that their pregnancy will continue and be released into the general population. We are all respectful of one another in a manner that likens to being at chapel during quiet prayers.
We made it to the point of release and I love using the term Gen Pop because the real world is in the other waiting room where most have tried once or twice and gotten lucky. Some were not trying and in my view got lucky but not so much in their view.
Gen Pop. It is here that I am “That Mother”
I forget because it IS my life so that weird sense of reality hits me sometimes, I am “That Mother” and it stops me in my tracks. I am the one with the child who all others on the floor fear they will have.
I know too much and I am painfully aware of all that can go wrong with pregnancy. When people around me are excited and their happiness for our family goes up about 12 notches when they hear its twins – I am reserved.
Reserved because babies are not viable until the 24th week. Reserved because even at 24 weeks there is a laundry list of delays and life issues. Reserved because twins are risky as it is and now I have placenta previa, which while not uncommon – has landed me on limited activity.
I am waiting every 2 weeks for the other shoe to drop kick me into an orbit of fear that I know very well from being “That Mother” and until these babes are born healthy and my own health is intact – I will remain reserved.
It is with this quiet reserve that I head up to Gen Pop every 2 weeks for my sonograms and appointments. I take a book and my phone so I can pass the time – but I think I might start carrying noise cancellation earplugs. The sacred quiet reserve among others is gone. The respectful atmosphere is gone.
There are the teenagers who salsa past with their boyfriends who can’t keep their pants up, carrying sonogram pictures of a child that I pray will thrive in spite of their parents inability and immaturity to care for them.
I love the patients who seem to feel the need to talk so loud to ensure that everyone hears their ailments, issues, and complaints. One woman last week was huffing and puffing to the point that I was worried she was going to hyperventilate.
The man who came with his – whatever the relationship was I am not sure – and the woman was called back and he proceeds to take out his cell phone and talk loudly explaining to the other end of the phone (and the entire waiting room) what they were doing at the doctor that day. I sincerely hope her infection has cleared up.
The young lady who came in via wheelchair and again at the top of her voice shared with the receptionist (and the entire waiting room) that she was bleeding from her vagina and for sure this baby was coming today. Excitement in her voice so I took it that perhaps she was in labor and this was her first rodeo. HAHAHAHAHAHA when she figures out that getting pregnant was the easiest part for her.
It’s a genuine carnival up in here and I get to go every 2 weeks and then switch to every week. My sky is purple and I am surrounded by those with blue skies, rainbows, and shooting stars. My atmosphere is different and I will get through this with a smile on my face because purple is a beautiful color. Purple is deep and wondrous and while most on that floor never want to see the color of my sky – they are missing the beauty that comes with being “different.” It also adds deep respect to what is happening within my body now and the beauty being formed with every millisecond.
As I left last week, I came back out into the waiting room with most of the carni’s gone and a mother sitting waiting with her little girl. Mom was pregnant and the little girl beautiful. I noticed next the little girl had on AFO’s or leg braces – then I noticed her little walker. Both items just like Larkin’s.
I was no longer alone as “That Mother” and the quiet, sacred reserve that I had been missing was surrounding these two souls. Others share my purple sky and changed atmosphere and as I stopped to talk to them both – I breathed a lot easier and I hope she did as well.
Now if only they would serve funnel cakes ….. My life would be complete.