So just when I had decided that I didn't need to go see the perinatalogist every 4 weeks because I didn't want any more testing done, I'm back in that gray area. There's another blood test that gives better results, Materni T21, so I guess now I'll agree to take it, even though I declined it last week. It won't change the outcome of the pregnancy, but I suppose it would be good to be mentally prepared for future challenges.
On the other hand, I hate buying into the medical community's marketing. While researching this test, I can across a number of grateful users, like this: http://theswaddledsprout.com/2013/07/07/my-experience-with-maternit21/, but also some heartbreaking stories, like the ones on this website: http://www.aheartbreakingchoice.com/T21/Pondering.aspx. These are the stories that fuel millions of dollars of medical research. I don't like to think that my doctor is ordering this test because of financial incentives, since he asked if I wanted it before he saw any indicators other than age, but I'm agreeing to take it because a 1/22 chance is pretty high. This article provides an interesting comparison of private practice and HMOs: http://www.drmccall.com/eyd/eyd20.html. When I was seen by the military provider (an HMO), I was rarely offered any tests beyond the most basic. For four of my pregnancies, I didn't even get offered an ultrasound. Now with this private practice, I've been offered test after test and had 3 ultrasounds and I'm just 20 weeks. Do I say enough is enough? Or is it kind of interesting to be the object of a science fair test?
Meanwhile, the baby is moving often. I still feel pretty good - was able to run five miles the other morning (had to stop to go to the bathroom twice) and had a wonderful swim in the pool last week. I really like to swim once I get over the initial freeze in the water. Fortunately, a friend invited me to meet her, so I couldn't back out because of a chilly morning. Even though I have lived in a southern climate for the past decade or so, I still can't get over swimming in November. It is only in the 60s in the mornings, so it's far from hot, but the pool is heated and once underwater and moving, the temperature is fine. And swimming is much more graceful than running with a pregnant belly.
A note on running while pregnant: I did a little research the other day to see what the current wisdom is on exercising while pregnant, and it is about the same as it was 17 years ago during my first pregnancy: as long as you were exercising before being pregnant, continue doing so as long as you listen to your aches and pains. Came across this: http://www.runnersworld.com/womens-running/should-women-run-marathons-while-pregnant. I find it hard to believe that the lady in question will be able to run at 24 weeks the way she can at 12. At 12 weeks, she probably feels pretty normal. After gaining a few more pounds, she may reassess on her own how she feels about running 20+ miles. I think Coach Jenny has given good advice here about "team training."
In many ways, my physical fitness level is similar to my first pregnancy, adjusted a bit for the passing of years. I had just run a marathon, my core was strong, and I ran almost through the whole pregnancy. During my subsequent pregnancies, I turned to walking and swimming much sooner because my belly expanded earlier, and I had tendon or ligament pain in the groin area. Rather than wear a belly band, I just took it easy. I'm sure keeping active made my labors easier.
And look: to all those pregnant runners who fear they may not be able to run as well again: I got back in shape after having 6 kids. And since my body had time for resting, I've probably preserved my joints and bones for future runs.
So now I'm grateful to still be running at 20 weeks. Each week I get a little slower and run a little less, but I intend to keep going as long as my joints and ligaments and overall health allow.
Despite feeling physically well, despite the positive ultrasound, I still catch myself falling into a dark space at night. Case in point: last Saturday morning we stopped by a friend's house on base. Their kids were jumping with the neighbors on the trampoline. Another couple of friends were over enjoying a football game. Someone else stopped by to say hi while walking the dog. On base living is like living in Mayberry. We were so happy living on base in Guam. Why did I say no thanks to all of this? On the drive home, I had to fight the demon of jealousy. And then at night I let my thoughts return to the daydreams of life past or the life I wanted to have in the future, and disappointment set in. Another demon. Prayer is difficult. Maybe pregnancy hormones contribute to these mood swings. In the morning I try to read something from Magnificat or my little Merton book about losing that love of self that clings to my needs, my wants, and I am inspired to live for others, but at night, it's hard to turn those selfish, what-about-me thoughts off, so I pray that when the baby comes, she'll be so lovable that all those disappointments will disappear. I know she will. What baby isn't? A baby with Trisomy 21?
This year definitely won't go down in history as one of my favorites. We had to leave our beautiful island, where we loved our neighbors and our house and and the community around us. We had an easy schedule with the kids, in between buses and nothing being more than 30 minutes away and not having a lot of choices. I had job that I loved. We had made great friends and had lots of good family time on hikes and at the beach and under the water and running 5Ks and triathlons. Now we spend hours in the car, the kids' schedules are all over the place, I feel sort of lost in limbo in between not having a job during the day, being unable to find one, and anticipating being unable to work in a few months if I did find one. The house and yard are disappointing, and while we like our church and have started to make some friends, we've yet to meet that family with whom we feel an automatic kinship, the family who has kids whom our kids like and whom we like.
We've been blessed in the past to have those kinds of friends, the kind you call in the middle of the night to watch your kids when you're in labor. We do have my husband's brother and his family here, and spending time with them has been wonderful, but they only have 2 little girls, so sometimes our family activities don't jive. And they don't share our faith, so there is a level where we don't connect. And that is at the deepest level. There is a place where we can't understand each other, and so a door is shut on that closer intimacy of friendship.
Sometimes I think I need to focus on what is good and lovely. Other times I wonder whether it isn't necessary that I mourn those lost opportunities and memories. They are worth remembering and appreciating. But we can only move forward in time, and I don't want my children infected by my own failings. So we carry on.
We ended last weekend with a successful small dinner party, despite my anxieties about our small house. Everyone seemed to have a good time, my husband's gumbo and my pies turned out perfectly - sweet potato pie is my new favorite thing, good for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I'm reminded again that I feel more comfortable being entertained at homes that feel lived in and loved, rather than ones that look like magazine covers where I worry that my kids will break something or that I can't return the hospitality because this person will discover my lack of decorating taste. Reverse hospitality: my house is so underwhelming, it makes you feel better about yours. That's why we used to call our old Civic the charity car: It made other people feel better about their vehicles, in addition to only having value as a donation.
And for Veterans' Day, we honored my husband by doing things he likes: playing at the beach in the morning (I even squeezed into a wetsuit and got in the waves, looking like a potbellied penguin. No photos.) and hiking to the old M.A.S.H. set in the afternoon, followed by a lasagna dinner and roasting marshmallows around the new firepit. Family togetherness at its finest: a great cure for the blues.
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| Veterans' Day Flags along the boardwalk |
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| A kelp crab |
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| Starting off the hike to the MASH set |
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| Live Oak down. |
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| Southern California = Korea |
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| I probably could have walked up and petted these deer - that's how concerned they seemed about our presence. We also saw what we thought were a flock of parrots and they probably were: http://www.havasiwf.org/the-concrete-jungle-uncovering-the-mystery-of-wild-parrots-in-southern-california/. |
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