So, after the blood work, I was led back to the room where I met with my primary doctor. She walked in, this prim, proper, teeny tiny Indian woman, and she gave me a high FIVE! I have NEVER experienced that with her before! Not in all the days, in all the months, in all the years I have been going to her! LOL.
I almost fell off the examination table! HA! She was beaming from ear to ear, and says in her heavy accent, “they said this would never happen…I honestly thought it would never happen…but miracles do happen every single day that stun the medical community.”
That meant a lot to me. For a medical person to have that reaction; it truly meant a lot to me. Come to think of it, it reminded me of the old cigarette slogan, “you’ve come a long way, baby.” *Smiles*
We had to change all of my medications—none of them were safe for the baby.
Even my Vitamin D (50,000 iu’s) was deemed toxic for the baby. She researched blood pressure medications as well, and came up with one that would be suitable—we hoped. She took my blood pressure again, because she wanted to verify the results of her nurse: 150/102—we had to get my pressure down quickly, because high blood pressure could deprive the baby of blood flow—not a good thing at all.
So I left her office that day with a new prescription for a new blood pressure medicine that was safe for me and the baby, and a lot of hope in my heart.
But somewhere along the way...that hope began to fade as I began to get lost in my thoughts. You know, sometimes, God grants you great mercies, and you do not know what to do…you want to shout it out to the world, and be a witness and give your testimony; but at the same time, you are truly afraid to do so. Not because you want to be a bonehead, but because you truly feel undeserving. I know that we are taught that God has not given us a spirit of fear—and I don’t think He has—but our humanly flesh has given us this fear, and to say that it is a hard thing to shake...well, that would be an understatement.
I struggled with wanting to scream it from the roof tops, and splash it across social media: “I was the woman with the issue of blood! I have not only been made whole, but I have done what doctors said was impossible—I. Am. Pregnant!” But, on the other hand, I wanted to keep the secret until the first trimester passed and things are considered “safe.” It was truly an internal conflict---me against me, and in either circumstance, I lost if I sided with myself.
I felt this baby was a gift from God (still do), and a miracle (still is). But I still had to face the harsh reality that if I told people, and then something happened, how would I face them? How would I deal with their pity? How would I deal with the stares, and the, “oh, I’m so sorry?” How would I handle and contain my own tears? My own sorrow?
I truly didn’t know what to do. You know, you take a chance when you blog like this—you put your inner most feelings out there for all to see…you open your chest, and you put your heart on display…and a part of me feared beyond logical reason, that opening myself up to all, would inevitably bring me down in the end…and that sobering…haunting thought…took me back into my self-made darkness…
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