They Only Come Out at Night

Let's face it, we are all afraid of monsters. Some are imaginary like the ones under our beds, in our closets or casting shadows from the corners of our bedrooms. Others are as real as came be, bad guys out to harm us, take from us or worse.... and finally, there are the monsters that live in our memories. We can go days, weeks, even years without so much as a peep from them and then out of nowhere they return. We lay our heads down at night after a perfectly productive, normal day and suddenly there they are, replaying our darkest fears onto the backs of our eyes. Sights, sounds, even smells return from the deepest recesses of our minds, long forgotten thoughts are now as real as they day they occurred.

That's what I'm facing right now. I have half jokingly, half seriously referred to it  as PTDD or Post Traumatic Delivery Disorder.  I feel semi qualified to say this as my post delivery notes have marked in them "traumatic delivery." (This combined with my medical degree from WebMD makes me totally qualified to make such statements... right?)

During the day, I don't think much of the complications I faced at my last delivery. I went through most of my first and second trimesters without giving it much thought. My medical team has an amazing care plan in place. My lab work has always come back stellar, my blood pressure remains old lady low, just like normal. At every appointment, my doctors smile when they go over my current labs, always saying, everything is text book, everything is normal... and then they sigh and say "But you were exactly like this the last time ."

This is code for: you could totally be going down the same path as last time. We just don't know yet.

As I moved closer and closer to my third trimester, the monsters in my head started to wake up. I scrutinize every muscle ache, every braxton hicks, every strange feeling. A headache is never just a headache anymore, tired contact weary eyes are never allowed to falter. I worry more between 9:00pm and when I fall sleep then I'll worry all day. It's justified, but it's annoying.

I close my eyes to sleep and suddenly I can hear the sounds of monitors going off, the clamor of people entering the delivery room. I can see the worried looks in the nurses faces, the stone cold serious expression that suddenly appeared on my typically affable doctor's face when he entered the room and took in everything that was happening. Worse still, while I can hazily remember my son's first cries, I can clearly remember the sound of my own blood hitting the floor.

I don't dare bring it up to Mr. Berg. It scares the hell out of him even now. He's putting on a brave face, we both are. But we both know the road ahead could be even worse this time around. It could be the same, it could be totally text book. We just won't know until we get there.

It's the unknown the monsters feed on. The what ifs that make them rear their ugly heads and growl in the nights. I try my best to acknowledge their presence and move on. Fear has it's value, I'd rather go in understanding my fears and the motives behind them, then try to ignore them and end needing sedation. 

All I can do now is remain brave and know that I'm doing everything I can to prevent what happened before. It's in God's hands now and I trust him. I trust him to see us through.