One more week down, and I couldn’t be happier. Ok, that’s not true. Happier that the end is nearing, but totally freaking out about what’s to come. I’m not talking about having another baby, that part I can most likely handle. It’s the operation that has me up all night.
The last week has been hard. Mentally, emotionally and physically. I’ve really struggled this week to get hold of my emotions, and have been having HUGE crying sessions in bed late at night. I’m not sure why it’s suddenly happened this week, maybe the kids have been extra hard, the heat has been horrible…maybe a mixture of everything. Who knows.
At my last check up and scan, I broke down in front of my doctors. All it took was the question “so how are you?” and that was it. I was a blubbering, sobbing mess. But if you are going to lose your shit, then the hospital is the place to be!! My doctor is amazing, she has seen it all and completely understands this is hard. She reassured me that my surgeon is the best, that she will be there on operation day…then offered to get the social worker so I could chat. Mental health of patients is priority it seems.
I HATE talking to people. I hate being a burden on others, hence the reason why I haven’t found help earlier. You’d think being married to a therapist I would have learned to express feelings to others but no. I’m a closed book, keep it all inside until BAM…explosion like this week.
But the lady I spoke to was great. She DIDN’T say “oh poor you, what a lousy journey…” she actually verified my feelings and acknowledged the fact that I am scared shitless and said she couldn’t take away the fear. NOTHING will take away the fear. I need to learn ways to deal and cope with the anxiety, not melt down. Crying does help sometimes. Just not all the time.
I like when people understand. Although now I’m on PTSD and PND watch and will be having follow ups with the perinatal psychological teams before birth. This is probably a very good thing.
It’s scary when you don’t know what to expect. My doctor has told me exactly what he plans to do, but it still scares me. I guess its the unknown, people die on operating tables every day. No one can guarantee that won’t happen. And that’s my fear. That I won’t ever get to see my boys again, or meet my baby. That I’ll leave my husband wifeless. Then who’s going to clean up after them all? Make them dinner, lunch and rock little Maverick to sleep during the day? Cuddle them when they fall over? Who???
My other c sections I didn’t have time to think about it. It was done quickly, but fear was there too. But those surgeries only lasted an hour or so. This one is a whole day! 8-9 hours! I won’t get to meet my little bub until afterwards. I’ve had 16 weeks to think about this one. The what-ifs. Talk to women who have lost babies, too much blood and their uterus’s. Too much fear…way too much fear.
So I’ll keep on the unknown journey and hope things don’t go south in the next 7 weeks. I’ll cry when I need to, actually talk to people to get these crazy feelings of fear off my chest. And hope I don’t have another melt down before the big day!
A blog is probably better than therapy anyway. But if you’re one of my friends out there in the real world, sorry if I burden you in the next 7 weeks with talk of “what the fuck is going on?”