To trust my gut? (Again. Trust it again.)
Not to worry about what others think?
That different people present different diseases with different symptoms?
I am so angry. Luke and I have been suffering with this 'cold' off and on for the last 10 days. I've called the nurses' line, polled friends with kids who are suffering various ailments, and even polled some friends with strep throaters. I've done everything that has been recommended to me in dealing with it...which is not fun when you are miserable and pregnant. Miserable? Hard enough? Miserable with a busy toddler running around? Harder still. Miserable with a busy toddler who is ALSO sick? Worse. Throw PREGNANT in with that mix, and really, I guess I just chalked me taking this 'cold' harder to my weaker immune system and not being able to do anything to treat it.
Not to mention...little bit has been under-the-weather off and on for the last 10 days. We've both been running low grade fevers that will come and go, days apart. (I've taken 5 tylenol in the last 10 days because I know fever isn't great for baby.) So, I figured that whatever HE has, I must have. And it seemed as if he just had this 'cold.'
Even though, in my gut, I thought..."This is some cold."
Even though, in my gut, I thought..."I know they say you can run fevers with colds, but I didn't think that really happened all that much."
Even though, in my gut, I thought..."I should probably just be sure it's not strep, because I know that's going around."
I didn't listen.
I took Luke in this morning. In addition to the awful cold-like symptoms, he now has some bumps on his face/neck and hands. Remembering that the boy is a RASHY boy, I haven't paid too much attention until I noticed they were multiplying pretty rapidly from the first one last night. John freaked me out about chicken pox, Luke has been tugging at his ear, and therefore...doctor's visit warranted.
He has an infection in both ears (left one, pretty severe), a sinus infection, and STREP THROAT.
His doctor told me to get tested ASAP, being pregnant, and at such a pivotal developmental time for the baby.
Yep...the rapid came back, "Raging," according to the doctor, with him also asking me how I've been able to eat with my throat as raw as it was. (Answer? I'm PREGNANT and this baby needs to eat at ALL COSTS. I force myself. It's what mommies do.)
I immediately started crying, because I said, "I should have come in earlier, shouldn't I?" and he said, "Anytime a pregnant woman has a fever, even a low-grade one, they should come in because it could be the onset of a bacterial infection."
*Cue Mom-of-the-Year Award music*
I've been pregnant 3 times. You'd think I would know that.
And the thing is...in my gut, I DO.
But I don't trust my gut anymore. My gut told me Matthew would live.
My gut worries about just about everything.
I feel like I can't win. I'm either too neurotic because I worry about EVERYTHING (and frankly, it takes everything in me, every single day to NOT be like this)...or, I don't worry enough, trust that it's 'just a cold and has to run it's course,' and end up with strep and could kill the baby.
When I started crying, the doctor said, "Woah, woah...woah...don't worry...moms take crack and heroin and their babies turn out fine." (Comforting or not, I'm not sure how I feel about that statement.)
In my experience, moms do EVERYTHING right and their babies die.
I hate that I do not trust my gut. I just feel like I can't. It has lied to me in the most severe, severe way.
I hate that I worry (even though I say I don't) about what kind of mother people think I am. I feel like my reaction to everything is on showcase—for people to pick at, criticize and condemn. (Of course, I realize that I could remove a LOT of that if I didn't have a public blog. I know, I know.)
"His paci dropped on the ground...what's she gonna do?"
"He won't eat anything...how's she gonna handle that?"
"He's crying...is she gonna let him cry or baby him?" (Which is ironic...BABY a baby? Umm, yes. When the call arises.)
"She needs to stop worrying so much. Kids get scrapes. They get bumps. They get dirty."
"She needs to worry a little more. Playing with keys is dangerous. Dog food isn't good for babies. Why isn't he wearing a coat when all the other babies are?"
More, I hate that trusting God means accepting circumstances I DO NOT WANT.
I don't want that to sound blasphemous. I am doing a study on James. I know, I know...count it as joy...
But really, I do not count losing Matthew as joy.
If something should happen to this baby, I will not count losing it as joy.
I will accept. What choice do I have?
And I know, I am not alone and God holds us.
I just know that even though God is holding me, I still am the mother of a dead child. And there's nothing to say I won't be the mother of two. Or three. Or the widow of a military pilot. Or all of the above.
Trusting my gut and trusting God are often not all that much different...except in obedience I trust God.
But my gut? Too big a liar.
Except sometimes. Like now.