Waiting Rooms

What is it about waiting rooms that causes me to have so much anxiety? It doesn't matter if I'm waiting for the doctor, the dentist, the therapist, the bishopric member, the interviewer, or the candlestick maker(had to throw that one in there). My heart beats swiftly, my mouth gets dry, I get fidgety, overly anxious, and I can't sit still!! Maybe it's because of the anticipation of what's to come. Maybe it's the fact that I'm not in control. Or that my fate lies in the hands of someone other than me. I don't know, but yesterday Tom and I had the opportunity to wait again. This time we were waiting in the office of the Maternal Fetal Specialist who held the answers we had been waiting 20 months for. Although it felt just like I was back at the office of the countless Fertility Specialists waiting to be evaluated on whether or not we would ever be parents. It was an uneasy kind of waiting. My greatest fear was that I would be told I would never have any more children. That it wouldn't be up to me, but the decision of some Dr. in a white coat. I know, I know, why not be grateful for the ones I already have? One boy, one girl, the "perfect family". Why risk your life? And your future child's health? It's just something I had to know.

As I looked around that room I wondered about the stories of the other women who were also...waiting. Most of them were pregnant already and I thought about the health of the babies that waited inside of them to make their appearance into the world. Or maybe it was the mother whose condition was especially delicate, I guess I'll never know. But I got the feeling that every other woman in that room didn't like waiting either.

When we were called back I was greeted by a friendly nurse and a young intern who had me start at the very beginning. From my first miscarriage to the horrible day that Benjamin was born I told them about it all. I was surprised at how attentive and emotional they both were as they let me tell my story. Then, the Dr. came in. Not the Dr. that we were originally scheduled to see, but another Maternal Fetal Specialist who agreed to talk to us because of the overly booked schedule of the Dr. that came "highly recommended". The first words out of his mouth as he clutched my thick file in his hands were, "Well, I don't know what to tell you." Not exactly the introduction that I was hoping for. He continued on his 10 minute or so monologue about the potential risks, the percentages, and the statistics that would accompany my "rare" case. It all sounded like I was very much a statistic and not a person. He sounded confident and straight forward but not concerned about me. I tried to follow along while occasionally throwing in a question or comment where I could. My favorite response to one of my questions was when he asked me, "are you in the medical profession?" "No,"I said laughing. "Oh, you just seem to know a lot about medical terminology. You must do a lot of reading." "I...guess, " I said. After all was said and done, we came out with a bit of hope but not the assurance we were looking for.

At times I feel like there is one more spirit in heaven waiting to come to our family. I can almost picture her, because it feels like a girl and I can't wait to have her here with us. At other times I think of Benjamin and Savannah as Benjamin asks for kisses goodnight with his adorable snaggle-tooth slobbery grin, and Savannah as she waits for me to come snuggle with her in her bed with her bright eyes and beautiful smile. At those times I truly feel as though my life is complete. That I couldn't ask for more. That is why I'm thankful for prayer and personal revelation because with that, I will be able to have a peace of mind no matter what we decide. Nothing like more...waiting.