Today, I went to see my OB and had an ultrasound of Emmeliese. Everything is was actually looking pretty good. My blood pressure was 124/62. I'd lost four pounds from last week, which is good since I gained six all at once. I had experienced a lot of pain/ pressure this week and thought maybe little E was turning, but she's still a breech-baby. And the placenta looks ok, the cervix is still nice and thick, and I remembered to tell the doctor I'd eaten recently so urinalysis did not bring a bedrest sentence this week. That was a very good thing.
I asked my doctor about how a C-section works and got some good information about that. I love my doctor so much; she just sat there and talked with me, answered questions, gave me as much info as I needed, etc. I really, really appreciate that care.
I left the office with many of my previous questions having been addressed. But I also have an entirely different set of things to mull over. I am just simply not a person who can not-think about things and I don't think it is borrowing trouble to puzzle over as many possibilities as I can. I like to think it helps to, in the words of Miss Crawford of Mansfield Park, "prepare oneself for every eventuality." Of course, one can't really do that, but one can try.
In fact, what becomes clear in thinking about this pregnancy, past pregnancies, and possible future pregnancies, is that pregnancy is a constant process of having my arrogance revealed to me. I like to delude myself into thinking that if I make reasonably good choices, follow through with certain actions, etc., that I will reach a certain outcome. But it's not true.
I read once that there is an African proverb that being pregnant is like having one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel. It startled me. We priveleged Americans don't often think of the risky nature of bringing new beings into the world. And I find I depend on a lot of hubris to prop me up as I stand in that proverb's precarious position. But at some point, hubris is flimsy. It gives way. Then I am forced to realize where I stand.
The truth is, like all of life, almost everything is completely out of my control. For some reason, parenting, and in particular, pregnancy, is the most expedient teacher of that truth for me. The only thing left to do is the best thing -- pray. A heck of a lot. After all, being driven to one's knees is actually a much more stable position than having one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.