Doctor's Appointments

Almost six years ago I was told at a doctor's appointment, which all people had assured me would be fine, that I was going to lose a baby I had been carrying in my womb for 21 weeks. This meant that all those odds that tell you if you have a solid heartbeat at 12 weeks you will have a 98% chance of having a healthy baby did not apply in my case - I had defeated the odds, and not in a good way.

Going back a year prior, I was told I had a weird looking uterus and I had a slim to none chance of having children. This was a result of a series of doctor's appointments and procedures from a horrifying experience with dye to a surgery.

I survived these things and now I have two beautiful children. But the cloud that hangs over me from those doctor's appointments has never really gone away. I had never been given bad news before then and appointments were just run of the mill. Now I dread every doctor's appointment that anyone I love goes to - every single one. Even though since 2005 I have had many normal appointments, many many more than bad, the feeling of having a doctor tell you something awful while you sit in a sanitized room stays with me. Somehow I have always believed that the sanitary nature of those doctor's rooms makes those meetings even more horrifying - you should really only get bad news when armageddon is happening around you.

The thing is, I know that whatever news I get, I will survive it. That's the worst part - actually - surviving. Adjusting your whole existence to accommodate the slice into your soul.

Tuesday my baby boy goes in for a procedure - that I have had, that my friends have had, that the doctor assures me will be no big deal and will just confirm her assumption that everything is fine. The cloud in my head that has been there now for six years is turning just a bit black. I am praying every time I think to pray - which might be 7 to 10 times a day.

Please pray for my baby boy too.