storbarnsförälder

In the past three days, about half a dozen people have told me they think I'm very brave to be going through All That again. I'm getting better at just saying "thank you," or whatever, but the truth is, it didn't take much bravery at all, really.

It took far more courage to face the fact that I might never have another pregnancy. The courage it took to have sex, to get pregnant, to contact midwives and doctors, to go to hospital, to research and plan the c-section, to stand up for what I want even when actual doctors with real authority don't like it? Piddling. Never being pregnant again was a truly terrifying thing. I attribute the drop in panic attack frequency and intensity, and the accompanying return of sleep, serenity, and domestic harmony to our lives, at least partially to my beloved teddy-bear beaded-flip-flop-wearing gynaecologist telling me that I could carry another pregnancy, even if I couldn't deliver vaginally. Basically, we went and got me pregnant the very next time I ovulated.

It's true that I've always gone straight back out and done the scary thing; when I first moved to England I promptly fractured both elbows (three fractures along the length of the bones in one arm, meeting at the joint, and two in the other, also meeting at the joint) ice-skating. As soon as my arms had healed enough to dress myself properly again, I got Rob to take me back to the ice-rink. It worked. And largely because going new places and meeting new people was terrifying for me, I made a point of going to all the afpmeets I could. That worked, too, though I was still crying with panic when I first went to Sweden. It's a tactic that works for me. Without it, my life would be unbearably restricted by now, because, well, enough nasty things have happened to me that avoiding the whole thing would be extremely, er, restrictive.

(OK, the phrase "Feel the fear and do it anyway" is sitting in my head begging to be said, so here we go, I've said it, though I don't believe I've read the book.)

The point is. The point is. The point is. Um. Probably that I don't feel terribly brave. I wouldn't be doing any of this if I could see pleasanter options. There aren't any. this is the leastest worstest path for me to take, so I'm taking it. It's still bloody difficult, yes. And I really appreciate when people acknowledge it - which is what "You're so brave!" remarks are doing. But I don't see much in the way of alternatives that don't involve rewriting my personality, and it took me long enough to write this one.