The Bomb Drops

May 16, 2006

"Who on earth is calling me at 7:30 in the morning."

That was the though going through my mind as I rolled out of bed to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Michelle Mattingly, Please?" So, I quickly realize this was not Ray calling me for some unearthly reason, but I was going to be ticked off if this was some sales call.

"This is she."

"Hello Michelle, this is your doctor, Doctor Hsu, (pronounced: shoe). I am calling because you were in for labs and I see you took a pregnancy test, is that right?"

(Let me just butt in right now to let you know that I have actually never met my primary doctor. As many times as I've been to the emergency room, I have somehow failed to run into Hsu. Up until this point I didn't even know if Dr. Hsu was a woman or a man. P.S.- Dr. Hsu is a woman.)

"Yes, a urine test." I can't believe I'm telling her what test I took when she obviously knows this already.

"Well, the test came back positive. So is this good news for you? Were you expecting this?"

Well, I was obviously expecting something. I don't go around peeing in cups for the fun of it.

"Oh yes, yes. Thank you so much."

"So, you want to keep this baby?"

"Yes!!!!"

Here, I had to remind myself that there are still plenty of women who, for personal reasons, are not interested in carrying a baby full term.

"Oh good. Then congratulations. So, we need to get you started on some prenatal pills. I don't normally see my patients who are pregnant. I have one of my nurses do that. So, you will be contacted soon by her to set up your first prenatal appointment. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to call my office. You can either ask for me or my nurse, we...."

And here is where I drop the bomb-

"Actually, I do have a concern. I have Sickle Cell Amenia, so I'm concerned about what I need to do now that I'm pregnant."

"Oh. You have just the trait?"

"No, I have the disease."

"The disease! Oh, well, this is very serious. You are at a very high risk. You need to get started on your prenatal pills right away, okay? You are a high risk, so you will need to go to the OB right away. I will have my nurse set up an appointment for you to see someone. If you do not hear from her by the end of the week then call my office. But you need to get in right away to get your pills. You need to get started quickly."

"Okay, I'm getting dressed and will be over there shortly."

"I will mark your medical file, so they know you are high risk. There is not much I can do for you. But the OB, when she sees you, will know better as to what you need to do, okay? Just make sure you drink lots of water and don't forget your pills, okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm on my way. Thank you so much doctor."

"Oh, yes. You stay healthy and again, congratulations."

"Thank you. Bye."

So, I'm high risk, which I already knew. But somehow it still came as a little bit of a shock hearing it from a doctor's mouth.

I went and got my pills. The nurse did call me. She asked for the first date of my last period and estimated my due date as January 24, 2007. An afternoon appointment later in the week was scheduled for me to see one of the nurses at the OB/GYN. I was reminded to arrive no later then 30 minutes before my appointment so that I would have time to fill out paperwork.

Although every pregnancy has an exact starting point, there is also a point when it really starts to sink in that you are carrying another life. This moment marked that point for me. Sitting in our dining room with the prenatal pills in my hand and the due date running through my mind, I came to a realization. It was the realization that I had to start being an adult about my health.

It's not that I haven't taken care of myself, but all my life I've tried to pretend that my disease wasn't there, that I could just 'think' myself well and be just like everyone else. These thoughts, unfortunately, would always result in a harsh reality check of me going into the emergency room with yet another sickle cell crisis. But now, I could no longer play the role of the stubborn child, refusing to acknowledge the limitations and restrictions of my disease. Our child needs me to listen to my body and to keep it strong and well. 'Our child'- it is amazing how two little words can change your whole perspective on life.

I can not promise that I will have a pain-free, crisis-free pregnancy, but I can promise that I will try.