A test in patience

In three more days we will have the amnio. We have only been counting down for 23 long, excruciating days already...so what's another three?

In fact, I sometimes completely forget all about it. Yeah right.

The week away in the Whitsundays was an excellent distraction. But it only soaked up five days of the anxiety that had spilled on the floor, flooding our hearts...we came home, and I felt like we ran out of paper towel some days. (We really did run out of paper towel last week, it was a mini domestic crisis. Weird.)

Actually, it's been the nights, they have been the worst. See, all of a sudden, my bladder is not the vessel of almighty impenetrableness that it used to be. I have trained it up well over many years sitting in offices swigging from a two-litre bottle of water; trained it to fill, and to the brim, before I go to the loo.

Now, half a sip of liquid and I am busting.

So, the bladder kicks my conscience into life at 2 or 3am, and then the worry brings it to its knees.

I imagine receiving both phone calls from the doctor once the results are in: the good phone call and the bad one. It's purely self-preservation, as I have to role-play it in my mind as some form of perverse preparation.

During the day, I succeed better at putting it out of my mind. There are phone calls, work, emails, life stuff, Jay stuff and home stuff to fill every space in my conscious mind.

At night, the only distractions are darkness and silence, and they are useless ones at that.

"Just put it out of your mind, shut up and go to sleep," I tell myself. "You will be cactus tomorrow.

"And besides, how stupid will you feel if you get the results and everything is fine and you find out you were worrying over nothing. What a waste of energy."

Other times I try and imagine what a long needle will feel like penetrating my belly: the fat layer, the muscle layer (if it is there) and then into the uterus. How on earth will it pierce the amniotic sac and not cause the fluid to flood out? How does that little spot heal? Will it hurt, will they have to yank it out suddenly if the baby moves right near it - and it does move around like some Thunderbird on acid, I have seen it! Will everything be alright in those two weeks afterwards? Are the two days that I am having off work enough? Will everything be alright?

It really has been a battle to avoid making it all-consuming, but 70% of the time I get it right. Whenever I think about the worst outcome, I often physically feel a pain...in my stomach or my chest or somewhere. And I tell myself that is not good for the baby. I imagine the little foetus frowning and jerking to try and shake off such negativity.

Sometimes that imagery works, sometimes it doesn't and the panic wins.

And the other thing about this awful limbo is that part of me feels I need to suspend any bonding until the test results are in.

I am not sure when you are meant to first feel the baby kicking, but I almost don't want to feel it. I don't want that other layer of emotion complicating my attachment with a being I may never know.

Roll on Wednesday.