Friday, February 12, 2010

Ultrasound picture

I am exhausted, but I can't sleep.

There is an ultrasound picture in my purse tucked in among my coupons and keys and miscellaneous junk. I can't bring myself to look at it. I feel like I have taken a huge breath in- the kind of breath you take to prepare yourself for something important or to brace yourself for something devastating... only I haven't let it out. I am holding my breath. I have stopped breathing.

Random thoughts take advantage of this vulnerable state- consuming me with fear and worry. I struggle to let these thoughts go- to center myself, to breathe, to believe.

I am haunted by:
-Tamoxifen (pregnancy category D- evidence of fetal risk, carcinogenic)
-Fentanyl and Dilaudid (C- benefit must outweigh potential risk; decreased fetal heart rate, neonatal respiratory depression, withdrawl)
-Zofran (B- no adverse effects)
-Zometa (D)
-Lupron (X- demonstrated fetal abnormalities and mortality, not to be used)
-Femara (D)

MRIs, PET scans with radioactive dye, CTs, bone scans, RADIATION.

Natalie and Larissa were born to a mother who avoided things, like caffeine, while pregnant.

How could anyone possibly grow in the toxic, hostile environment that my body has become? How could anyone survive? How could a mother condemn someone to a potentially painful, suffering existence? What if we die in the process?

I answer my own question- NOBODY could grow and survive. I cross my fingers and tell myself it's best not to get attached.
The picture is in my purse. On the chair. Next to the bed. But, I don't look at it.

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