From the outside appearance, I look like the average third trimester pregnant lady. I get the questions of when are you due, what are you having? Other moms, who I don't know, saying "oh, you have prom to look forward to and her wedding." It's really hard to just to keep smiling and say yes, that will be great. Some days I just don't have the energy to tell them that I will be lucky if my little girl makes it to term or how over the top I will feel if I get to take her home. I haven't even given it a thought about Reagan going to prom or getting married, my thoughts are just about her making it one more day. Although they don't know of Reagan's diagnosis, I must say it's nice that women share in the excitement of a woman being pregnant.
What's not so nice is when you go your regular OB doctors office and meet a new doctor and for some reason they haven't bothered to look at your chart, so they have no idea that our daughter has a fatal diagnosis. So they go along with the usual heart rate check (where hearing her heart beat is music to my ears and I that I am so fearful of the day that I don't hear it) along with measurement of my growing tummy (where I am normal according to the chart, but since the Doctor hasn't read my chart she doesn't realize that Reagan is two weeks behind in growth and that I am on the high side of normal for excess amniotic fluid). So for this Dr. everything seems great until I ask her if she has read my chart and if she is aware of Reagan having Trisomy 18. No, she answers. I then proceed to inform her what she should have already read.
Going to the doctors office is one place that I feel like I shouldn't have to explain everything over and over. It should be a safe place, a place where I don't have to pretend that everything is great. They should realize how hard it is to sit in a room full of pregnant women who are busy planning their child's nursery. They should know that I am not having a tough time choosing which shade of pink to decorate the nursery but instead choosing which dress I would want Reagan to wear for her funeral.
I am not asking them for sympathy, I am simply asking them to know my medical history, our daughter's diagnosis and to have a bit of compassion to what we are going through. Is that too much to ask?