A few days ago I learned that Emma has contracted Fifth disease, a.k.a. "Slapped Cheek Syndrome" (called this because a child with this particular illness looks as though they've been slapped across the face. I think I could be a doctor if all medical ailments had such logical names.) I had never even known there was such a thing as slapped cheek syndrome, until one day I noticed Emma had extra rosy cheeks and so I googled "rosy cheeks, four-year-old girl" and voila! Slapped Cheek Syndrome! Thank you Dr. Google. I was reading along and discovered that this is a viral infection that is no longer contagious once you notice the tell-tale rosy cheeks. A majority of the people out there have had slapped cheek syndrome and don't realize it or don't remember it. Once you've had it, your body makes a nice little antibody to it and you can never get it again. The only caveat in all this good-natured info I was reading is that it is extremely not good for pregnant ladies to be around this rosy cheeked virus. It can lead to bad things for people in my condition. So, I called the pediatrician, who told me to get to the OB ASAP for a blood test to find out if I have had slapped cheek syndrome before in my life or if I'm currently infected with it. Obviously, it would be better if the former were the case. So, I had the blood test on Friday and I should find out tomorrow or the next day what the results are.
Ugh. I hate this. I am trying to be hopeful and positive and all that, but there's part of me that's slightly worried. Emma's the one with the rosy cheeks, but I am the one that feels like I've been slapped in the face. I fluctuate between feeling incredibly anxious--every twinge, every headache or cramp means I am infected with this virus and am infecting the baby. I have lost sleep worrying about the future of this pregnancy. I feel that way and then I feel this overwhelming peacefulness about the whole thing. Like a big wave of calm just crashes over my whole body and I know that everything is going to be okay...even if the baby is not okay, somehow I will heal and I will not die from the pain I would feel if something bad were to happen. And when I feel that wave of calm, I am almost grateful for this opportunity to remember that God is in control of everything and that he has a plan for me and for this baby and that it is better than anything I can imagine. I really hope his plan is that this baby be born healthy and perfect and live to be a hundred and two...because that is my plan. But in the end, I know that he loves me and that he hears my prayers.
As I've mentioned before, I can be a little slow in the spiritual maturity department. Sometimes I do have to be slapped in the face to really get it. So, now, I get it...I think. Emma's rosy cheeks are a good reminder that I need to just get out of the way and let God do his thing with my life. Here's a verse that is helping me at the moment:
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."
I like the "lean not on your own understanding" part. I think that means that I should not google "pregnancy, slapped face syndrome" ever again. That kind of business is getting me nowhere. Sorry, Dr. Google. I just need to keep praying and trusting in God and things will turn out okay in the end. So, maybe this is a slap in the face that I really needed. Besides, I need to learn my lesson sooner rather than later...otherwise Emma is sure to come down with "Hit You Over the Head Syndrome" or "What Do I Have To Do To Get Your Attention Disease" next time.