Do Better. Be Better.: Anxiously Awaiting Pajamie's Arrival

20 weeks, 27 weeks, 32 weeks, 35 weeks

On Tuesday morning, April 8, 2014, Pajamie will finally arrive. I am so incredibly excited and so incredibly frightened at the same time. I am not worried for Pajamie, but rather I am scared for myself. She is not the one that is sick; I am.

Our last two appointments at Mayo have been about the specifics of delivery. The medicine I will receive to block pain messages to my brain, every detailed minute of before, during, and after the C-section, the type of care her and I will receive should any problem arise, etc. My doctors and anesthesiologists believe that Pajamie's birth will be no different than any other healthy full-term birth. They tell me over and over again that she is healthy and that I am healthy and strong. That the C-section will be a breeze.

36 weeks, 37 weeks, 38 weeks

But every time they explain something to me or fill me in on all of the possible scenarios, I just freak out inside. Two appointments ago the doctor was giving me a pretty detailed minute to minute account of the C-section. The entire time I didn't think about Pajamie once. How awful is that? What kind of mother am I if I don't think about my daughter? All I could think was, "Is that going to be the point in time where my CM bleeds again?" Pajamie is not the problem. I know they will deliver her smoothly and she will do amazing. I am the problem. What if I can't stay calm enough and fail to regulate my heart rate and blood pressure? What if the medication in the spinal tap triggers a bleed? Will those things plus the stress of a surgery be enough to upset my CM? I became so overwhelmed during the appointment that I think I had my first ever panic attack. I started to sweat, my heart was racing, and I had to get up and leave abruptly. When I came back I told everyone that we were not allowed to talk specifics anymore. I just need to go in to tomorrow blind and clueless.

39 weeks

If I have learned anything on this journey it is that having mental strength is 99.9% of recovery. So, I have decided that I am just going to have to hand it over to God like I did the night of my stroke. I will close my eyes, think about all the good in my life, and focus on the feeling of Patrick's hand in mine. This birth should not be something that is clouded by fear. I should be bursting with excitement and joy and I am going to try my best to make sure that is the experience that Pajamie, Patrick, and I share together. I want to be able to tell her someday how beautiful her birth was. How excited and overjoyed her father and I were. I am determined for that to be the story we are able to share with her someday.

To my littlest peanut:
It's you and me girl. We have waited nine very long and challenging months to meet each other. I cannot wait to look into your baby blues, kiss your cheek, rub the soft skin of your back, and have you nuzzle in under my neck. I am eager for the moment when your Daddy lays his eyes on you for the first time and you instantly wrap him around your little finger. I am excited for your sisters to meet you and immediately start fighting about who gets to hold you first; that happy noise that comes with us uniting as a family of six. We will forever share the bond of this journey and I cannot wait to tell you everyday as you grow up how much of a little warrior you are. I promise to forever protect, guide, and support you. You are loved more than you will ever know.