Decisions

We have tried out most of the activities that are rumored to lead to labor: Acupressure points, sex, and walking.  Marla told me about a salad dressing at a local restaurant rumored to send women into labor.  There seems to be one of these joints in every major city.  Ted picked up dinner from there on Sunday night.  So far, no dice!  But he did buy a full bottle of the dressing and I've been using it every day since, so we'll see.  I KNOW I said I wanted the baby to stay inside until 40 weeks, but Dr. D assures me that he is fully developed now and I just want him in my arms.  Two more weeks isn't a long time, but for a woman at the end of her pregnancy, it can feels like months.  And, since I have been living my life in dog years since last July, 2 weeks feels like an eternity to me.

I am embarrassed to admit that I wish he would come early.  After what I have been through, I should wish for nothing more than a delivery that happens exactly when it should be and not a moment too soon.  Sometimes, when I feel like I am being selfish, I become kind of resentful that I am not allowed to consider my own needs at all.  I feel like since losing Max, I don't really count anymore  When Maxie was alive, I always worried about the decisions I made and whether they were selfish or in Max's best interest.  I have spent a lot of time this past year wondering what I could have done differently, so that Max would still be here today: The food I made for him, the daycare decision, the formula I had begun supplementing with, sleep training, vaccinations....I could go on and on.  These are all things I worried about when he was alive...and then he died...and now I feel guilty basically all of the time.  People have asked why I decided not to go on anti-depressants.  I met with a psychiatrist in November who told me that there was a "very small chance" (less than 6%) of birth defects that have been found in babies who were born to mothers taking anti-depressants.  Less than 6% isn't a small percentage to me.  The risk of SIDS is less than 1%...and still my Max is dead.  Taking care of myself doesn't feel like an option. 

So, now I have all of these decisions to make about Maxie's brother.  The same hard decisions - 100 times more loaded this time around.  I won't be sending Baby M to daycare.  I am grateful that my boss worked with me to create a new position where I can work from home.  But, can I leave Baby M even for an hour?  I imagine that I wouldn't, but what if a situation comes up and I have to?  I don't get the luxury of deciding to make time "for myself".  The fact that I went on a bike ride the morning that Max died makes me sick to my stomach.  People have suggested anti-depressants for when after the baby gets here - honestly, I would love nothing more.  Except, what if something happens to the baby?  Would I ever forgive myself?  I already know that I wouldn't.  I had convinced myself not to vaccinate this time around but then I started hearing about children dying from preventable diseases.  So, now I am thinking of an alternate vaccination schedule.  Formula?  There is a possibility that if Max had the disorder that he hasn't been found to have had, that my breastmilk didn't have enough carbohydrates.  But, Max didn't die until after he had started eating solid food and drinking the occasional bottle of formula (with carbs).  I don't know.  Life has become so much more complicated than I ever imagined.

There is already so much pressure being a parent.  So many decisions to make all of the time.  People always used to tell me when Max was alive that it was ok to make mistakes - all parents make some mistakes.  Only, my child didn't live, so I can't afford to make any mistakes at all.  And, what about all those that told me to try and find a balance in my life?  So that I didn't completely ignore my own needs.  New mothers try to also find time to exercise and run errands.  I just feel like these are not options for me.  Mostly, I feel like I just can't count this time around.  My needs cannot be important - and I am not trying to be a martyr.  Like I said, it makes me sad.  I wish I could parent without so much fear in my heart.  At the same time, I AM looking forward to a lack of downtime (like I said, I wish Baby M was here NOW).  I am just so afraid I will make a mistake.  I can't afford to make any mistakes.  I can't afford to lose focus, even for a minute.  I am so scared!

And, still, despite all of this.  STILL, I selfishly hope that tonight is the night.  I hope that he comes just a wee bit early.  I know it goes against everything I just said, but I can't help how I feel.  I am still a human being.  It seems clear that he won't be coming early and I guess that is good, but is breaking my heart.  These last days are dragging out for me and I am back in a really sad, lonely and incredibly uncomfortable place.  I can't wait for him to get here and keep me company.  Most of all though - I am praying, as always, that once he arrives, I get to parent him for the rest of my life.