Because praying first usually nips the freaking out in the bud.
Now, the background story that prompted that reminder.
I had an ob/gyn appointment today. Baby looks good, heartrate 167. Then I met with the doctor. Not "my" doctor (he's on vacation). This doctor told me that my culture came back positive for bacterial vaginosis.
That's where the freaking out comes in.
See, I had several BV infections when I was pregnant last time. It's one of the few "links" that have been shown to contribute to premature rupture.
I have been completely symptom-free. In fact, I've had FEWER symptoms (bad symptoms) during the last week, then at any point during this pregnancy. Then I find out I've had a BV infection brewing since last Monday (it takes several days to get the results back).
Felt a little like being kicked in the gut.
It dredged up an awful lot of my old "my body betrayed my babies in the worst possible way"-feelings. How am I supposed to KNOW something is wrong, if my body fails to provide any signals?!
Anyway, I was pretty upset. I won't go into more details, because frankly they make me look a little pathetic.
I'm on antibiotics now (a whole different story, but one I'll spare you) and I'm sure they will take care of the infection. I'll likely continue to take the antibiotic through the duration of the pregnancy.
So.....after I was done gnashing my teeth, I prayed. See, I did things in the wrong order. It calmed me down. I was reminded that just as this baby is "fearfully and wonderfully made", so am I. I'm not a cosmic screw up, I'm a work of God.
Wow, that's hard to remember sometimes.
2 years ago