This is the text that I sent my best friend this morning:
I’m venting. I’ve been having really inconsistent, like I’ll have them for a few hours and then they’ll stop, contractions. And they definitely hurt. And back pain and all that. I really think I’m at least like 2 or 3 cm dilated. And (my husband) really wants me to go get checked out. But my head is fucked up and “it’s too early to have him so I must be crazy” and I lived a weird life where I’ve always been very dismissed by doctors so I’m really like terrified of going in and being wrong. Like the thought of going in and getting checked and finding out I’m wrong and fine is basically the worst thing in the world. Which I KNOW is ridiculous. So idk what to do.
This is my 4th pregnancy. Which means by now, I pretty much know the drill. But I’m only just barely 30 weeks pregnant, and to be honest, I’m scared. I do feel like I have some significant preterm labor symptoms.
I’ve been trying to make it to my regular OB appointment on Thursday morning. But at this rate, I don’t know if I’ll be able to. My husband wants me to go to the hospital to get checked out, but I just…with my medical history, and this pregnancy already being so difficult…I don’t know. The whole thing has me feeling so overwhelmed and anxious.
I’ve spent my entire life being ignored and downplayed by doctors and my parents. Told my symptoms weren’t real, weren’t enough, didn’t make sense, we’re too confusing…we only ever treated problems. Surgeries to correct the issues. But the bigger picture was ALWAYS ignored. Until my kids came along, and I pushed for them, and we found a diagnosis. Until them, I lived my entire life undiagnosed and medically neglected.
Now that I do have a firm diagnosis and we can clearly link it to all of my medical issues…I still have the psychological component to battle. The “will they think I’m crazy if I bring this up?” And the “I better not say this, I don’t want to be too much”.
On top of that, the amount of time I did spend in hospitals and recovering from surgeries, undergoing tests and procedures and the countless hours spent there…it brings all of it back. I hate hospitals. I hate that feeling. The feeling of being sick and feeling helpless and weak…and just feeling awful.
At the end of the day, I know I’m being illogical, and allowing emotions and fear to drive a decision that shouldn’t be driven by that. And I know that his safety comes first no matter what, even if that comes at an emotional cost for me.
I don’t think I’m wrong. I do think that there is a problem that needs to be checked and addressed. But I did message my doctor, and I’ll do whatever she suggests.
Even if that sucks for me. It’s not about how triggering it may or may not be for me.
I just want everything to be okay. And I know I’ll hate myself if I ever did anything that I could look back on and wish I did differently.