My doctor told me that sometimes pregnant women get itchy, it’s normal. That seemed like a banal description of my experience, so I trolled around the Internet, eventually finding a website called itchymoms.com. Here I learned about a condition called cholestasis of the liver, in which bile leaks into your bloodstream, slowly poisoning your bloodstream, causing a terrible itch; and, more important, it can immediately kill the babies.
I went to see my doctor. He assured me I did not have cholestasis of the liver. “It’s very rare,” he said. “But I have all the symptoms,” I said. “How do you know?” he asked. “Itchymoms.com,” I said. Doctors are not terribly interested in the online research of anxious patients, or in websites like itchymoms.com, which had online memorials for stillborn babies, but he said he would do a blood test to reassure me.
It took a week for the blood test to come back. In the meantime, I itched. I went to a hypnotist. For a wonderful hour, he convinced me that I did not itch. The hour was up. I itched. A week later, my test came back, positive for cholestasis of the liver.
Now, rather than seeing the tolerant, kindly faces of doctors indulging their anxious patient, I saw the stern and compassionate faces of doctors trying to make life-and-death decisions. “Every three days,” they said, “we will do an ultrasound to make sure there is still fetal movement. We cannot promise that in the intervening days the fetuses will not expire.” (I believe at this point they changed their language from “baby” to “fetus.”) They made sure I knew that they could make me no promises about the safety of the babies while trying vaguely to reassure me that everything would be all right.
Sarah Ruhl, 100 Essays I Don’t Have Time to Write
I forget who put me on to Sarah Ruhl, maybe Austin Kleon? Anyway, I should say most of this book is not parenting-related, and Ruhl has some great insights on storytelling in these mostly very brief essays; but the parenting material has hit hardest for me so far.