9 Days

A Healthy Fear

"They" say there is a healthy fear and an unhealthy fear. An unhealthy fear of anything leads to great anxiety and a paralysis of the emotions. Fear in and of itself is not a bad thing for God created us with the emotion of fear to protect us as well. This is why when something frightens us or we find ourselves in a sudden and unexpected time of panic or danger our bodies let off adrenaline which gives us that extra boost to be able to gain control of what has happened. It's healthy to be afraid of snakes, for example, for some are poisonous and meant to deliver a deadly bite. A healthy fear helps us manage our impulses as well.

Unhealthy fear, on the other hand, occurs when we allow our irrational self to gain the upper hand. Yes, I know I am waning philosophical tonight, but I have been reflecting on what I will be going through; what my family will be going through, my doctor and friends on the day of the surgery. Everyone of us will experience at the least a bit of anxiety and at the most tremendous fear. I thank St. Philomena and St. Anne for all of their prayers and granting me peace in that I feel like I have friends in heaven who are advocating on my behalf. Some nights I like to remind St. Philomena that I did promise her namesake to my unborn child without my husband's approval no less. I am confident she will look with kindness and increase her pleadings to Our Lord for my safety and for little Mena's safety as well. I don't have an unhealthy fear of next Thursday; anxiety perhaps, but I don't let my mind wander too far off into the "what-ifs" zone. This is not a good place to be. Fear and faith, at this point needs to be properly balanced, otherwise a prescription for Ativan might be in my near future.

NOW...

My OB confirmed this evening that the baby will be born on the 12th - next Thursday. I have been here a month on the 9th. It seemed like an eternity that first week and now I am nearing the end in just a week from now. Philomena will be 35 weeks, but I am confident that she will be born strong. I picture my child with dark hair and blue eyes and perhaps a bit shy. Whenever I go down to ultrasound and they try to get a face shot she moves her arms in front of her face as if to hide. I went down today for what is called a biophysical profile. They just scan the baby to make sure she is growing properly and has good fluid levels. All went well. She looked terrific and happy.

I, on the other hand, will be quite thankful when my trips downstairs to antenatal testing are over! Each Tuesday and Friday I get a knock on my door from "transportation" to wheel me down. Lately, transportation has brought the ever flattering "double wide" wheelchair. I am beginning to get a complex. I know I carry a belly the size of a small basketball out front, but maybe I am bigger than I think. Maybe the back of the wheelchair has a sign much like those trucks that go really slow in the right lane of a highway carrying a double wide modular home. You know, the ones with their hazard lights blinking and a rather large sign that reads, "WIDE LOAD." Thankfully, my fears are dispelled when one of the ultrasound technicians who saw me sitting in the hallway, as is routine now, asked why I was put in such a wide chair. She said I looked like Alice in Wonderland sitting in such an over sized chair. At first I chuckled as she pointed to my hair and told me that was who I reminded her of. I am not sure whether to be flattered, insulted or angry. I guess I do have a similar modest wardrobe as Alice, and my hair is blond, but I can think of many other people I would much rather have been compared to so I will digress.

THEN...

After finding out our baby was a girl, for me personally, I began to have a special connection with her, praying for her by name and picturing what she might look like. My monthly trips to the OB became every other week and my OB starting having a bit more serious talks with me. She informed me sometime around September - just as field hockey season was off and running, that a time would come in this pregnancy when bed rest would be essential. I really just tucked that information away in the dustier parts of my brain and enjoyed the last few months of being active, much to my husband's chagrin and my well meaning friends who always thought I did too much. I am glad now, though, being confined to this hospital bed when I look back over the very active summer and fall seasons and the rest that God has willed for me at this point in time.