A terrible thunderstorm ravaged San Sequoia, soaking our yards with rain and illuminating the sky with startling flashes of lightning. I desperately wanted to go to the gym and workout, but I’d learned my lesson. Twice. Never again. Since I was trapped indoors, I broke in my studio and meditated to block out the booming claps of thunder and internal voices telling me I was a freak and I’d never be safe again. I needed peace and left my phone on the kitchen counter. Good thing too because after my session, I found a voicemail from my GP saying he got the results back from the additional tests he ran and wanted me to come in as soon as possible to discuss them. I was still in the zone, so I wasn’t as bothered as I should have been, but it still concerned me so braved the weather and left right away.
Doc commented on my surprisingly good mood, wondering if I’d accepted my situation. Seriously? Expecting someone to get over that kind of news in a day is unreasonable. Who hired him? He needs sensitivity training or something. I briefly mentioned my meditation and steered the conversation back to the voicemail. He said they found a marker in my blood that might cause my immune system to attack the baby’s blood cells. Apparently, it’s common and treatable with an injection. I hate needles, but if that was all it took to protect my son, I was down.
The storm had subsided while I was at the hospital, and I was so glad. I hadn’t tended the money tree in a few days, and the bugs were feasting on it. The rain still came down pretty hard, but at least the thunder and lightning were over and I could garden in peace.
Inside, I found Sophia having lunch. Naturally, she wanted to know where I had been, so I told her about the voicemail, the news, and the shot. The part about my body attacking the baby seemed to rattle her a bit, so I guess she’d never heard of that either. I appreciated her concern for our son. Coming to terms with having another child and trying to fabricate a connection with him was really hard, and I love that she’s trying.
When she recovered, she got back on care duty, reminding me how sorry she was that I’m having to go through all of this and that she’ll be here for me every step of the way. She even offered to take me upstairs and give me a premium full-body massage. My mind went crazy imaging what premium included.
But just as we were about to run upstairs to frolic and play, another bout of nausea hit me. Why is this my life??
