They say there are no atheists in foxholes.
This would have been a good week to believe in God, but I don't, so I have to cling to what few strange beliefs I do have.
In times of trouble I tend to look at my engagement ring that used to belong to my Nanna, and I ask for her help. I'm sure she's not happy that we mostly talk during turbulence on aircraft. I asked for her help when I was lying on the exam table not looking at the amnio needle. I knew that she would certainly listen to a plea offered up on behalf of a baby.
I have been thinking how reassuring it would be, in these interminable 10 days (10 working days, 10 earth days? what? when?) to have the security of faith, or a belief-system. It must help to put your trust in some higher power, it would certainly take the pressure off a little. It is hard to derive the same amount of reassurance from a belief in your statistical chances of a good outcome. I know a lady through work who recently had to undergo a termination as her baby was diagnosed with a terminal condition. She wryly said she believes she took the 'statistical hit' for all pregnancies in Santa Barbara, as the chances of a baby with her condition were 1 in tens of thousands. It was nice of her to say that. It would be nice to think that. That lightning won't strike you if you know someone who's been struck. Statistics don't work like that though do they.
I will admit to being an agnostic. I don't not believe, I just don't believe in any set doctrines. I certainly believe in the power of positive thinking. That all of you fantastic people who have written such lovely things, who have offered up hopes and prayers on my behalf are doing your bit to sway the cosmic outcome.
Then of course, there are those lovely people who have sent these in the last couple of days:
Chelsea buns direct from Fitzbillies in Cambridge with a note that read:
'Nothing in life is so bad that it can't be fixed by a Fitzbillie's Chelsea Bun!'
.......and Laker flowers from Fluffy.
How can you not smile when you see these?
It has been so helpful to read of other people having gone through tough times with their babies, their families. I cried when I posted a question on some random internet message board about SUA and got so many messages back of personal stories, hope, and positive outcomes. I also cried while out walking yesterday and heard a song that said 'I've built my dreams around you'. I am a mess. If you can burst in to tears while listening to the Pogues you are a certifiable muppet.
So, no religion, but what I do pay credence to, stupidly, are 'signs'. It's embarrassing to admit, but I've always been obsessed with childish games like 'if I can get through this traffic light without it turning red things will be OK'. Smart huh? If I see a clock that reads 9:11 it means bad luck. 9.10 means good luck.
On the way to my perinatal appointment I was flicking through the radio channels and was horrified to catch a song 'baby I'm gonna lose you'. By the time I got to my appointment I was convinced something was wrong, and my pulse was over 120 - which the nurse picked up on. LK gave her this look like 'no, she's not ill, just insane'.
So far I have managed to convince myself that things will be OK, that we will be able to handle whatever is thrown at us, and that perhaps I need to relax and laugh a little more. Something I discovered when I went to our office storage facility this week. A place where we keep old patient charts, filed alphabetically of course, a place I go at least once a week and until now have never spotted this gem:
Someone somewhere is telling me to relax and laugh a little I think.