Control is a funny thing. I have always been someone who likes to have complete and total control over any given situation. I knew going in that pregnancy/parenthood was not really a "controlled" situation but these latest developments have really thrown me for a loop.
Yesterday I was officially diagnosed with vasa previa by the Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor at MUSC. This was a terrible experience, mainly because the doctor had one foot out the door the entire time she "explained" the condition to us. Her basic diagnosis was that I lived too far from the hospital to do anything if I started bleeding before my scheduled c-section and that I should try to eat a lot of red meat so my iron count would be high if me or the baby bled out. As you can imagine, my panic level was through the roof by the time we left.
Luckily for me, cooler heads prevailed (mainly my mom's and Parke's) and I was able to get an appointment today with my regular doctor. The nurse at my doctor's office said the magic words, music to my ears, "don't worry honey, we are going to get you a plan."
Now, I know plans rarely if ever go accordingly...but even a rough draft of a plan seems better to me than feeling like I have a ticking time bomb in my stomach. The only plan I have right now is to run around with a bloody steak in my mouth, so yes, a plan B sounds great thanks.
My automatic assumption is that the baby will be fine, because in my life everything has always turned out fine. I have always had faith that God is in control, and I still believe that...but there is that slight doubt that maybe I have been TOO blessed. People have terrible things happen to them every day, what if this is it and my blessings have been used up? I know in my heart that is not the way He works, but it is harder to wrap my head around the concept.
So back to control. In the midst of all of this, the copier machine at my office jammed. This was the kind of jam that involves taking out small parts and pieces with the machine blaring it's protest the whole time. The rest of the office decided to put an "Out of Order" sign on it until we could get professional help.
Two hours of taking the copier apart and putting it back together, I fixed the darn thing. It would be sad to try to describe the sense of elation I got when the screen confirmed that yes, it would copy again. My life may feel completely out of control right now, but the copier has never run so smoothly. And sometimes that is all you can do.