Sometimes, I can be a bit stubborn. We can blame it on being the oldest child. Or that I have lots of good ideas. Or that my mom told me I was smart. Bottom line, I’m not really proud of it, but I tend to form strong opinions and then it takes a lot to get me to change my mind. Sometimes this is a good thing. Other times, it causes me to fight with my doctor.
Early in my pregnancy, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, which makes this a “high risk pregnancy.” I have been extremely reluctant to accept this label for a lot of reasons that I don’t necessarily need to get in to here, but a result of this diagnosis has been that I have had more appointments than expected, have gotten really good at sticking myself with a needle, and have had to re-imagine my birthing experience due to an increased likelihood of induction or c-section (the main bone I have to pick with my doctor). I was also informed a few weeks ago that after 32 weeks I would have to start going to the hospital twice a week for non-stress tests in addition to my regular appointments.
My first reaction? Not happy. It makes working more complicated. The hospital is not convenient to work or home. Now I am going to have to fit this in during a lot of transition and things going on. I know. This all sounds so ungrateful. I mean, I don’t take for granted that I have health insurance that makes this all possible. Of course making sure the baby and I are healthy is my top priority. But I’ll be honest, it all sounded like a huge hassle, especially when my sugars have been well controlled since early in my pregnancy, weight gain is on track, and baby is the right size.
So that brings me to this past week when the tests began. And I thought to myself, “What am I going to do just laying in a bed, hooked up to the monitors for thirty minutes?” And then it hit me. Nothing. I am going to do nothing.
I am going to lay there. And listen to my healthy baby’s heart beat. In a quiet room. For a whole half hour. I am going to close my eyes. And I am going to be thankful. Thankful that this pregnancy has been completely uneventful. Thankful that all day, every day, I feel my baby moving (although at times this involves a rather uncomfortable pressure on my ribs that is not really that cute). What mother in the world would complain about that?
See, I have never been good at slowing down and just taking in the moment. But I realize that this is happening, whether I want to accept it or not. And I get to decide if it is going to be an annoying inconvenience, or a quiet moment to breathe in the midst of a lot of change.
Let’s just say I’m looking forward to Tuesday morning.