Chemo 2010 |
31weeks |
Carrollton 2011 |
I asked the doctor what his thoughts on it were, and he asked me to clarify for him exactly what I would be doing were I not pregnant. "Outside around 730/8am until about 10am, on the astro-turf marching field in the middle of the kids, whackin' my gock block yelling 'Left! Left! Left!', showing them how to march and schooling a handful of them when they do it wrong. Then inside for music rehearsal till 12."
31weeks |
He took all of my statements into consideration, nodding and "ah-ha-ing" at all the appropriate moments then took a deep breath and gave me my fate. "Mrs. Stout, I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to be outside with those kids, on your feet, carrying this baby, marching around, and doing what you do, in THIS heat. It would be *completely* different if you were sitting in front of me at 16weeks pregnant, OR, if we were just sitting around 80/90 degrees out there, but you're 30weeks5days pregnant, and will be 32weeks1day pregnant when this marching band camp hooey starts", yes folks, he used the word "hooey", and I just can't allow you to do that."
DAMN. I knew that was what he was going to say, of course I knew it, I'm not stupid, it just sucked to actually hear it come out of his mouth, and then see it in writing when he handed me a note for school. I then brought up the back to school parade & rally on Aug. 11th, and KU Band Day, which happens to be two weeks prior to JP's due date. "Uh, no," he said, "You can't march either of those." "How about a compromise?" I asked. "Can I at least get my kids warmed up and in formation for the back to school parade, then I PROMISE, I will get in my car and drive to the high school to await their arrival in the relative comfort of the gym". "Yes, I suppose that would be okay as long as you promise to NOT march it." Of course.
KU Band Day 2011 |
I guess it's all out of my hands. I have to let it go and let God. I have to trust that they will do what I've taught them. They'll be able to take charge of everything and gear up for their competitions, parades, and field show's without me there.
All of my teacher friends who have kids have reassured me time after time that "Once your baby boy is here, the furthest thing from your mind is going to be school, let alone your Drum Line." On one hand I can understand that, but I'm not sure they fully understand. I spend three-four years with this group molding and shaping them and watching them grow, then help send them out into the world. They ARE my children. I may not have birthed them, but I care for them like they are my own. I listen to their fears, and celebrate their triumphs. I nurse broken hearts and hand out advice. I take them home, and buy them food. I remind them of where they need to be and when. I make sure they wash their clothes for competition, and I call them to wake them up. They call me Mom. How can I forget about them? Simply put, I can't. I will do what it is I need to do to protect me and our child growing inside me, but I will NOT forget about them and just walk away like they don't matter.
Our James Porter LeRoy, 20weeks |
I hope so...
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