Worrying Too Much

Two Saturdays ago I went to an impromptu baby shower for my friend, M. Almost 3 years ago, M adopted at toddler from Peru, after a struggle with infertility.  Her daughter is now a happy and adorable 4 and a half year old, and M wanted to give her a brother or sister.  She tried fertility treatments, but had serious side effects from the drugs and her doctors told her not to continue.  And so she and her husband signed up to adopt, this time domestically, hoping for an infant.  A few weeks ago, they were matched with a birth mother who was set to deliver a baby boy this month, and the baby shower was put together to get them all the baby necessities for the imminent arrival. 

Her shower was such a joy – and the first shower of all the ones I’ve attended this year where I was actually pregnant, which made it even better.  The only bad part of the shower was when M confided to me that she was secretly afraid that the birth mother would back out at the last minute, and their hopes at a new baby this year would be gone. 

A few days ago I learned that something even worse had happened.  The birth mother went to her OB, right around her due date, and discovered that the baby had died. 

I can’t imagine the heartbreak both the birthmother and M and her family have felt.  Of all the worries that M had about this adoption, I’m sure that this outcome was one she’s never imagined.  But, amazingly enough, this story has a happy ending already.  I got a text from her yesterday, announcing they’d been matched with a baby boy born a week ago in Florida.  A little small because he was born at 34 weeks, but otherwise healthy! She and her husband leave Tuesday to bring their baby home.

I know that M is probably sad for the baby she never knew, but I imagine within a few weeks she’ll know that this new baby boy is the one she was meant to have as her son, and won’t be able to imagine any other child in her life.  It’s amazing how things work out sometimes.

From this I have learned something that I’m going to try to put into practice.  Worrying about all the things that might go wrong just isn’t worth it, because it doesn’t prepare you for when bad really does happen.  Instead I’m going to work on hoping for the future, because somehow, in ways you might never expect, things really do work out. 

Unfortunately, I’m failing miserably at that goal right now, because I’m worried the bad things my ultrasound might show tomorrow.  I’m trying so hard to be optimistic, but, quite honestly - I’m terrified.  I keep trying to reassure myself with all the positive pregnancy signs I have, and how good my beta numbers looked, and how, deep down, I really do feel good about things this time. I’m just having a hard time convincing myself to trust my gut feelings, I guess because I’ve seen the bad stuff, but have no personal experience with the good stuff – yet. 

Yes, I admit it, I’m a hot mess.  Thank goodness I have a wonderful friend taking me out for a decadent Southern Sunday brunch in a bit, followed by some quality time with George Clooney at the movies.  That should distract me for at least a few hours.