Okay, I remembered two more longer stories from vacation that need telling. The first came secondhand through M who had the actual conversation. He was chatting with my SIL, the one who is a mother to our preemie nephew. She filled him in on more of her birth story. Apparently she was a lot sicker than M or I knew. You might remember they tried to induce her after she was diagnosed with preeclampsia and HELLP syndrome. When the induction didn’t take, they eventually did a c-section. What M and I didn’t know is that they really debated about whether to do a c-section because her numbers for something were low enough that they doubted she could survive. It sounds like it was coming down to a mom or baby decision. It’s kind of a big deal that both made it out as healthy as they did.
Because of the super-traumatic pregnancy and birth, SIL is scared to give it another go, and for good reason. She’s worried that the same could happen next time and that not everybody will make it out as well as they did this time. While there’s no guarantee of that, from what I understand, she is at an increased risk for both problems again. In her position, I think I would think the same.
Despite watching his wife nearly die trying to give birth to his baby, though, M’s brother is still already talking about the next baby. He talks about it like it’s a given, an established fact, and SIL is hesitant to let him know just how scared she is about doing all that again. I’m worried for both of them. As usual, I can see and understand both points of view, and I can tell already that they have a big decision in front of them a year or so down the line.
And on the same train of thought–kind of–I found myself reacting to something in an unexpected way. It started when we were at the zoo. Naturally there were lots and lots of families there. I kept smiling at the adorable babies and feeling pity for the pregnant women there (they were everywhere). I was miserable myself because of the humid heat, and I couldn’t imagine being out there while I was pregnant. I even saw some pregnant moms there alone with their three or four children. My heart went out to them. They’re stronger women than I was pregnant!
But that evening as we were sightseeing elsewhere, also walking endlessly outside in the humid heat, I suddenly lost that pity for all the preggies I kept seeing. Suddenly, that feeling was overtaken by jealousy. Me? Jealous of a miserable pregnant woman? What’s wrong with me? I have yet to dissect what is behind that feeling because I can promise I do not want to be pregnant right now, especially out in that nasty heat.
Yet somehow I keep talking about it. It’s obviously on my mind. Maybe I’m still writing about it constantly to remind myself just how certain I am that this is the wrong time–if there ever will be a right time.
And you guys get to put up with all my endless ramblings about it! Sorry in advance!