Supertitions and Suspicions... (Part III)

"I didn't get you a card or anything - because I'm just a little superstitious..."

The comment from Grace's mother-in-law still rang, two days after Mother's Day.


She had spent the morning happily weeding and clearing out her front beds, the better to appreciate the recently-blossomed tulips, daffodils, and other perennials.  Then the family had gathered at the house of Darren's parents to present cards and gifts for Darren's mom and his aunt.

Grace had been pleasantly surprised at the small, thoughtful card from her sister-in-law on her "first" Mother's Day, and had sat with a hand resting on her almost-12-week pooch, watching the gifts be oooohed over and envisioned her First Real Mother's Day in one year...

But at the same time, she had a hard time imaging it.  The past few days had brought a doubt to her heart - was she really going to be a mother?  Despite the unbuttoning she'd had to do after lunch lately, Grace was having a hard time accepting that her belly would swell, that she would feel tiny kicks and flips, that she would go through labor in less than 6 months' time...

While Darren was excitedly playing with his new godson, a precious 4-week old little boy born to his cousin and good friend, Grace had distressingly, but silently, noted that she was able to stay awake - in front of a droning TV no less - far past her recently typical bedtime of 9pm.

And she became alarmed when, morning after morning, she had to clear long blond hair out of the shower drain - an activity that hadn't been required for the past 11 weeks...

But surely, Grace had attempted to reassure herself, with no spotting or cramping - everything must be fine.  She just wished that she could locate the precious gallumping heart-beat - it had been 3.5 weeks since last hearing & seeing it - on her home doppler, something she had convinced Darren to spend the $52.95 on.  She wished she could have Darren's confidence that everything was a-ok, despite the doppler silence at 10weeks, and 11 weeks - gestational ages at which, according to her research,  a heart-beat should be loud enough.

She wished she didn't have the niggling bad feeling that the next 6 months wouldn't necessarily contain labor and a new love...  And the niggling feeling had gotten in the way of her current love - she hadn't felt comfortable when Darren hinted at physical intimacy the other night - could the motion jar loose the fragile budding life?

When her daily-checked What To Expect app informed her that the baby was now fig-sized and able to open and close his/her miniature hands, Grace felt secure enough to let Darren make love to her the night of Mother's Day.  She regretted it as she sat in the bathroom afterwards, panicking at the site of reddish-brown in the toilet bowl.  She spent the next 24 hours furiously researching on her phone, and even sent a frantic text to her NICU-nurse friend who just might have some good words and calming advice...

While Darren still maintained the confidence that his little fig was safe and snug, the niggling feeling began to weigh on her heart so much that Grace, with trepidation, decided to call her obstetrician.  She was relieved that the nurse didn't scoff at her concerns.  After notifying her office that she would be taking personal time the next day, Grace tried to quiet her thoughts for the next eleven hours and 28 minutes - time left until her last-minute appointment - with a pillow under her midsection and a distracting romantic comedy on TV.

The end of the first trimester was tantalizingly close - her Nuchal Scan was in just 4 days, and with that completed, she could say farewell to the first three months of pregnancy, and maybe then, start to accept that this was all really happening...