I got a call yesterday from the hospital where I was supposed to have my hysterectomy. It was originally scheduled to be this week. They wanted to know why I hadn’t done my Pre-surgical workup and I just chuckled a bit thinking that I clearly wouldn’t have passed that bloodwork.
So much for making plans, right? It was supposed to be so smooth- I have met my out of pocket max for the year so this surgery would have been ‘free’. My husband was off for the holiday so he could lift Sweetie and let me rest. I was going to recover from surgery and then be free to move out of the house with my Sweetie in the new year.
Yes- the other big plan on my agenda was to be divorcing my husband. I found some emails on my husbands phone that showed me he had (planned to?) cheat on me while I was 7 weeks pregnant with Abby and he was out of town on a business trip. He insists that nothing happened. Isn’t that such the typical response? We have fallen apart since we lost Abby, but I’ll admit it really shocked me that he was doing this when I thought we were in a pretty good place before our world crashed around us.
So I was trying to reconcile how I felt about making my Sweetie grow up without two parents around. We still parent well together, so do we ‘stay together for the kid(s)’?
And then more plans are thwarted by the second pink little line and the crazy ultrasound that told us there were two. How do I move forward with any plans now that I have a high risk pregnancy and potentially two more little ones coming? Or worse, the heartbreak of losing two more?
I used to love making plans. It was my job before becoming a mother- managing projects and keeping things going on time and on budget and fixing any issues that got in my way. I was pretty darned fearless. Now I try to figure out what I should do next week and it’s enough to send me into a panic attack. Guess I’ll just hold off on the planning till I can get back on some Valium. Sigh.