Today at Stella's development checkup, her locum/pediatrician Dr. Cassie suggested to me that I probably caused Stella's ACC by not taking enough folic acid. Lack of folic acid is linked to mid-line defects, she pointed out. I countered by saying that I had started taking pre-natal vitamins before I got pregnant. She thinks that because Francis has a high palate (apparently this is a mid-line defect) I should have know to take 6 mg of folic acid daily. This is roughly 5-6x the recommended dosage. She topped all this off nicely by telling me that, as a parent of a special needs child, perhaps I shouldn't be working. (Um, this isn't a decision to be made by myself and my husband? This isn't a decision that I revisit, oh, let's see ... daily?!)
To be honest, I am just gobsmacked that I could have caused Stella's disability. As it is, I spend many night laying awake wondering if it was the beer I had to celebrate Laura's new job, or the sushi I had with Maria, or if Francis kicked me in the stomach at just the wrong time .... I think that I will always wonder.
I think that I will always worry. I worry about Francis (is there something wrong that he wets the bed at night? should I be worried about his fine motor skills? are we doing a good enough job controlling his eczema?) but I worry even more about Stella. (Are we doing enough therapy? The right therapies? Why are her ears always infected? Is there an allergy I am missing? Is she getting enough sleep?) You know those job applications for McJobs? The ones that ask you to list your "personal interests and hobbies"? Well, mine is worrying about my kids. Why enjoy them when you can worry about them instead?
My other big hobby is guilt. Obviously others do not believe me that I am doing an excellent and complete job with my guilt that they feel that they have to contribute. I get the "what are you doing working since you have a child with special needs" a lot. A lot. I guess it doesn't matter that this is really a decision to be made between myself and my husband. Or that Stella loves, and I mean loves, daycare. (Oh, so of course I then feel guilty that I hadn't been socializing her enough before daycare ...). Or that I have invested, oh, 6 years of university, 3 years of professional certification and over 10 years in a career. (Not that that is reflected in my salary, unfortunately. Probably more a reflection of what a crappy negotiator I am.)
Hey, people? I've got the guilt and the worry thing covered, OK?
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