As I lay on the couch last night, totally exhausted, I realized that I had been through a lot more than I gave myself credit for yesterday.

You see, I’ve come to fear ultrasounds.  Actually, I’m downright terrified of them.

During my first pregnancy (Littleman) I had many, many ultrasounds due to his heart arrhythmia.  Aside from the first scary diagnosis of it, I never really worried that much about the ultrasounds.  I’d just hop up on the table, let the tech do their thing, take a quick peek at my kid and then hit the road.

But after that horrible day in March when an ultrasound revealed that my second baby had stopped growing, my whole attitude shifted.  No longer is an ultrasound an exciting opportunity to see my sweet baby.  Now, that machine is source of complete and utter terror.

Anyway, back to yesterday.  I didn’t really have a chance to get nervous about my ultrasound because I didn’t even know I was having one until after I heard the baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler.  This definitely helped ease my anxiety.  And, because it all happened so fast, it wasn’t until after the ultrasound was finished that I had the chance to process the fact that this was my first time back to that place since the day I found out about my miscarriage.  In fact, my mom and I sat in almost the exact same place in the waiting room as we were on that horrible day almost five months ago.

Ever since I found out I was pregnant with this baby, I’ve been scared to go back to there.  I didn’t want to sit in those chairs and wait to be seen.  I didn’t want to lie on that table and watch the tech’s face as they placed the wand on my belly.  And, obviously, I don’t ever, EVER want to hear the horrible news that my baby has passed away.  I thought and worried and stressed a lot about the day that I would have to return to that part of the hospital, knowing that I would be an emotional wreck.

The next few weeks are a big hurdle for me to clear and, given where I am in this pregnancy, I’m sure the next ultrasound will be incredibly scary too.  However, if I’m going to make it through the next six months, I’m going to have to try my best to conquer my fears.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop being scared of ultrasounds.  I think the innocence I had during my first pregnancy is gone forever.  But I do feel pleased that I made it through yesterday unscathed and am determined to do my best to stay strong over the next few weeks.


5 thoughts on “Fears

  1. Of course you won’t. Life teaches us some tough lessons, doesn’t it? But I don’t think you have anything to worry about.

    I don’t fear ultrasounds anymore… but that’s because I just expect the worst. Every. Time. And I’ve had more shitty ultrasounds than good ones, so I have plenty of reason to have low expectations. But that’s my general approach to life- expect the worst, but hope for the best. It has served me well.

    I’m so glad things are going well, and look forward to more happy reports! 🙂

    • Thanks. I’m with you on the attitude. I think it’s often easier to expect the worst and then be pleasantly surprised. I’ve certainly never been an overly optimistic person and I think I’m even worse now.

  2. Pingback: Please Don’t Take My Sunshine Away — On Fecund Thought

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s