Friday, November 24, 2006

It's Not Just the Hormones

At 36 weeks, visits to the doctor change from bi-weekly to every week. Contrary to what it may seem, these more frequent appointments make the time go by slower. On Wednesday, I had one such appointment. I walked into the office and approached the reception desk. To my right I noticed a girl sitting in a waiting chair. She was nervously eyeing the kid and I, as if we were intimidating her. As we passed her by to do our weekly washroom thing, she finally looked away in shame, clutching her stomache. Must be really sick, I thought and I hoped it wasn't contagious. We returned from the washroom and sat down in our choice of any chair. The girl was no longer there but I could hear a young, female voice around the corner speaking to the lady in reception. The voice was small and wavery. From what I could gather she had been waiting without checking in first. The next bit was inaudible. Then, from around the same corner, came the girl being ushered past us by the receptionist and shown toward the washroom. The girl's head was still hanging. Within a brief moment she had returned and was waiting fist in palm, head down on the edge of one of the many chairs. I'd been reprocessing all that I'd seen and I was starting to realize what was going on. In another moment, the nurse returned. Her hand found the girl's shoulder and her voice was soft and quick as she reassured the girl that the technician had her sample and would call her just as soon as there was an answer. My heart sank. It was clear now why she had been here. I wanted so badly to grab her hand, to stop her as she rushed by. To look at her straight and tell her it would be ok. That even though it felt like a death sentence now, having a child would actually make her better. That it would make her stronger and love harder than she could have ever imagined. That it would give her a drive and an eye for the world that she otherwise may never have had. But she rushed by too quickly and then she was gone. All of my urgent intentions slammed shut with the office door as I realized she wouldn't have heard me. She'd only have thought I was crazy. Some hormone fostered vehicle, sputtering lovely nonsense as mothers do.

Last night I went to bed feeling tired and ready. But as soon as my head hit the pillow the urgency returned. No thought of the girl yet, but the feeling was the same. Suddenly I burst into tears. Sobbing uncontrollably. Where had this fit of emotion come from? It's not just the hormones, I thought. It's fear. I've done this before and still I'm terrified. Not of anything in particular, just a general fear of the unknown. The fear of not being in control and with that thought the girl shot to the forefront of my mind. She must be so afraid. I lay my arm across the newly committed soul next to me allowing myself to find comfort in his quiet warmth and hoped that the girl would allow herself to find the same.

16 comments:

Anonymous said...

That is an awesome picture and I think you are right that she could not listen. I look forward to the impending pictures. Actually I think you should take a video of the birth and show it here lol :)

Anonymous said...

Maybe it's not the hormones. Maybe you are just kind. Weirdo.

platts42 said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
platts42 said...

That even though it felt like a death sentence now, having a child would actually make her better. That it would make her stronger and love harder than she could have ever imagined. That it would give her a drive and an eye for the world that she otherwise may never have had.

From my brief experience driving the foster kid van (as well as personal experience), I find that this is not always the case.

However. You are very good person to even consider doing what you wanted to do. Hope and empathy make the world go round.

Greenfish is right.

Kat said...

lola- I can't wait too! I had dreams about my baby all last night. Soon!

fish- Aw. What a nice thing to wake up and read. (weirdo ;o))

marrrrk- It's unfortunate that the fear obviously overtakes a lot of people. You're a great person for doing all that you have done with kids. I hope you're proud of the work you do. Thanks for the encouragement and the compliment ;o)

Anonymous said...

Blimey.

Tits McGee said...

A beautiful post, but I have to agree with the Cap'n that it is not always the case that parenting makes you a better, stronger person. An unintended pregnancy can be the worst crisis a woman faces and sometimes none of the possible outcomes is a good one.

elizabeth said...

Be afraid - be very afraid. Muawhahahahahaha. Just kidding.

Speaking from personal experience - being a mom has changed me for the better. It just reshapes you. You DO see the world in a very different way. And your heart gets bigger the second you hold them in your arms. But - the world also gets stinkier. A lot stinkier. And that usually lasts for years. Have fun with that. (tee hee)

elizabeth said...

Oh yeah - and MUCH louder. Times two. *smirk* but sometimes that noise is laughter...sometimes.

Bugwit said...

That was beautiful, Kat. I can sure understand how you wanted to help the girl.

You're a good person.

Kat said...

badger- cor!

tits- True. Very true. I was only expressing an urge to help where it most likely would have went unheard because she was in such a different place than I.

liz- damn. You just reminded me that I don't have a new diaper pail yet. Not exactly the most exciting purchase, but very necessary!

buggy- thanks

Anonymous said...

Eh...maybe it was just the hormones? ;)

Steve~

Kat said...

...but as a woman I have a bad point of reference. I think my entire life has been about the hormones ;o)

elizabeth said...

I am saying nothing here. NADA.

Cheezy said...

There's nothing wrong with crying, not with something that, erm, 'big' happening in your life. Maybe all that girl you saw needs is a good bawl?

Jennifer said...

Beautiful blogg baby.
I can sympathize with the fear, but can come no where near empathizing with it... I wake up terrified of life itself sometimes... I can only imagine what it might be like to have little people who depend on you too. You are an amazing mommy Kat. I love you and you are doing so good... so good at this thing we call life.