(Written the day I actually got to see my baby for the first time.)
I've pretty much been a hypochondriac my entire life.
Headache, probably brain cancer...or an aneurysm
Stomach ache, most definitely cancer...maybe appendicitis
Fell down and hurt my leg, let's hope this doesn't spring a blood clot
Ribs hurt, broken... also most likely punctured a lung
So when I found out I was pregnant one particular movie scene began flashing through my mind. It's from Juno. All you hypochondriacs out there know what I'm about to say. The girl had just taken a pregnancy test (it was positive) and all the way home, as she rode her bike, she kept repeating to herself, "Let it be cancer. Let it be cancer. Let it be cancer." What??? A positive pregnancy test can mean cancer and not baby? Well just sign me up for my screening right now.
So, here I was holding my pregnancy test. Thinking to myself, "This is probably a baby, but maybe I just have cancer." I know that sounds horrible, that is the way my mind works. Anyway, apparently, you have to wait to see a doctor until you are far enough long that the little gummy bear will show up on a screen. (Probably a very good thing for me.) For me that was 4.5 weeks away. And even worse, I started getting really really sick. Morning sickness? What a joke. Try all darn day sickness that requires you be by a toilet or bucket 24/7 because if you even look at food you start hurling your guts out. I promise this did not help the hypochondria.
I really started to believe I was dying. I would sit on the couch and cry, oh my poor husband. "I'm sorry hunny. My last days weren't supposed to be like this. I pictured us at the end of my life dancing and singing and making lemonade while stars fell around us from heaven. Instead, I can't move, I can't think, I can't talk and I willingly want to die. Goodbye. Let me alone to die in peace. Also, can you hand me the TV remote and bucket."
Praise God for doctors, medicine and vacation... all which happened right around the same time. I still couldn't see the doctor, but they prescribed me a wonder drug that immediately gave me relief. Then I was able to lay around for 10 days and not feel guilty about it, which did wonders for my soul.
And finally, it was time to see the doc. I know some parents who get their first ultrasound and burst into tears. Some shout for joy. Some stare in disbelief. Truthfully, my only feeling was relief. Oh dear God, thank you that this baby is real. I was terrified the doctor was going to look at me and say, "I'm sorry, there is no baby, instead we realized you are terminally ill and have only two weeks left to live. It's a good thing you came in." But no, it's real and I got a picture to prove it. Best. Day. Ever.
