Wow- so it's been about 15 weeks since I posted. That's pretty amazing. And not in a good way- I didn't mean to leave anyone hanging!
Basically, for whatever reason, I stopped being able to post at work (I think it's when google changed over to a newer version) and to be perfectly honest- the thought of sitting down for a half hour at night and blogging just wasn't going to work. If I was going to post, it had better pass some time at the office :)
I recently received an e-mail from someone who stumbled on my blog and was wondering what the HELL happened with the last scan and where I was and so sure enough, when I tried to log in this morning it- worked! So, here's the rest of the story...
We saw the perinatologist in late February. He took one look at the previous scans and said her heart was beautiful. Perfect heart. He saw the spot on the tummy that they were talking about but wasn't convinced it was anything major. He decided to take a look for himself and sure enough, he couldn't even find it. He asked why we had declined first tri screening and basically said that without doing an amnio, he couldn't be 100% sure of anything. BUT, being a high-risk doctor and essentially an "amnio-pusher" (his words, not mine), he would NOT recommend an amnio in our case, because in his opinion- the risk of the amnio outweighed the risk that something was actually wrong. He said that most babies with severe defects are IUGR (inter-uterine growth restricted) and my baby was in no way, shape, or form growth restricted. We were most concerned about Down's syndrome since her structural functions were looking good and he said that most babies with Down's have shorter arms and legs by chromosonal make-up. He re-meausred her legs about 3 times, each time saying she had super model gams just like her mama. :)
We left the appointment very hopeful. For the first time, I allowed myself to be super excited about the pregnancy and what is to come.
The last 12 weeks or so have been a whirlwind- a beautiful nursery, an amazing shower, LOTS and LOTS of crazy house prepping for a bambino. We are 29 days from our due date. I am equal parts thrilled, scared shitless and supremely uncomfortable :)
Our little girl will be here before we know it. It's hard to fathom just how drastically our lives are about to change. I just can't get that nagging, "If there's nothing wrong, then why did 3 scans show that something was?" out of my head. I am trying. I am trying VERY hard.
My dr's appointment went really well yesterday- hard to believe I'm already up to weekly visits. My bp was still good (108/50), no protein or sugar in my urine, weight gain at a respectable 23.5 lbs and while I haven't dilated, she could feel the baby's head locked and loaded into position. We are thrilled.
I am tired. Not sleeping- although, I am not having a ton of "late" pregnancy symptoms. No heartburn, no swelling, etc. I am having a bit of lower back pain which comes from having to lug this extra weight around and I'm a little weepy but I'm pretty sure that's par for the course.
It feels good to write again. This period of pregnancy is hard physically, but also emotionally. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff- knowing that when you jump NOTHING is ever going to be the same. And you could jump today or it could be another 5 weeks before you finally do. And nothing is guaranteed. I know none of us are promised tomorrow- but I just want my baby in my arms, healthy... and I guess then we can figure out what in the world we're supposed to DO with a newborn :)
I better run- my Maternity Leave replacement is coming up to meet with me this morning (only 11 more days at the office- less if you consider the fact that I have jury duty next week (uh yeah.. more on that later) and I have a few last minute instructions that I need to finish. It's starting to become really REAL. Yikes!
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Update... not-so-excellent news
OB just called- she was not a fan of the scans from last week and sent them to the high-risk guy. He took a look at them and decided that he'd like to see me himself. On Tuesday. Like tomorrow is Friday and Monday is a holiday, but the day after that TUESDAY. I'm glad there's no torturous wait, but after doing a little googling, our Georgetown hot-shot doctor has a 9 week wait-list. Hope that he and my OB are just friends and I shouldn't be reading into this anymore than I am...
When I called my sister to tell her she answered by asking if I wanted my baby shower over-the-top girly...
Yes. I'd like it over-the-top girly. I'd also like a healthy baby, more than anything, please.
When I called my sister to tell her she answered by asking if I wanted my baby shower over-the-top girly...
Yes. I'd like it over-the-top girly. I'd also like a healthy baby, more than anything, please.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Some good news! :)
So, I don't know where to start this post other than we have some EXCELLENT news to share!
Friday's scan went great. We were so lucky to have an AWESOME tech who could definitely feel our anxiety and did his best to put our minds at ease. Our last scan took an hour to complete for EVERYTHING and this one took almost an hour and half... just on her heart and tummy. We have one wiggly little girl in there :)
We got great news that her heart looks perfect. Her positioning last time probably wasn't that great, but her right ventricle is there, properly sized, functioning perfectly and all the veins and arteries look just as they should. One big hurdle we crossed there!
The spot in her stomach- is still there. After the scan, I asked the tech about her tummy and he said, "I saw it, but I'm not sure it's something that I would have even mentioned in my report if this was the first time we saw it." He did want the radiologist to see it in real time, as opposed to the pictures he snapped. She was available and spent time with us looking at it. She has no idea what it is, but it's only affecting her small bowel, which is apparently a good thing. Without any other soft markers, she has no real idea what could be causing it. We will follow up with another ultrasound next month. Her growth pattern is perfect- right in the 50th percentile for all major organs/systems and she weighs a whopping 1lb 9oz!
I'd love to say that I walked out of the appointment feeling overjoyed, but I just wish that we had gotten the complete all clear. Obviously, I'd much rather her still have the tummy issues rather than the heart issues, but I just can't seem to relax. The radiologist and the tech both told me NOT TO WORRY and to enjoy my pregnancy but I'm just not there yet.
Our weekend was a really good one- Friday night one of M's co-workers hosted a wine and appetizers party. There must've been something in the water... out of about 50 people, I counted 7 pregnant women besides me! It was nice to get a break after the build-up to the ultrasound and M's friends are so sweet. I didn't know what he had or hadn't mentioned to people at work and when we got there they were so excited. (I think he forewarned them if we didn't show up, it wasn't good news!) So lots of hugs and lots of promises of more prayers to go around. Saturday I finally slept in for the first time in ages. We putzed around the house and met my parents for an early dinner. Stopped by the mall to return some things to the maternity store and then got home and stayed put- it was so cold and windy. Yesterday, we finished our taxes (thank goodness... we are getting a nice refund! Unfortunately, none of that money will go for anything "fun", but it couldn't have come at a better time). Last night, M insisted that we go look at baby furniture... which was interesting.
Because of the fact that I am horribly good at denial, I haven't wanted to do anything baby related. Other than starting a tupperware bin full of adorable pink things (to include glittery pink sneakers-love them!), I've basically done nothing to get ready for the baby. I've read blogs of people who knew that there child didn't have a prayer and they still made nurseries. I didn't get that. I mean... isn't that a horrible painful reminder of what could have been? M and I had a long discussion about that and he said it's about holding out hope and that people cope in their own way. Apparently mine was to act like I wasn't pregnant until we got the all clear.
Even though we pretty much did, I still have been dragging my feet. So, off we went to Babies R Us. That place is completely overwhelming and every fear I have ever had about being a mother completely sunk in yesterday. It was bizzare. I felt like M and I had a complete role reversal. You know where the guy goes shopping with his insanely pregnant wife and she's cooing over swings and pack-n-plays and all color has drained from his face? That was me. I guess I just don't know where to start.
I did decide that I want to paint her room a pale pink (I was all for gender neutral in case we have another baby at some point, but who cares? We can always re-paint) and I love this wall art http://www.amazon.com/RoomMates-RMK1439SLM-Scroll-Stick-MegaPack/dp/B003NGTNFG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1329145623&sr=8-1. When we went to Babies R Us, it turns out they have the whole line of bedding, lamps, etc in the same pattern. I think the owls are just adorable. So that was exciting :)
We found furniture we love and are very lucky that my parents have agreed to spring for the crib. Now it's just on to more fun stuff- registering, shower ideas for my sister, getting her room ready, starting our baby care & childbirth classes, naming her :) (I hope that she will eventually be EBH, but I'm not sure M is on board yet...)
I have my 6 month (holy cow!) check up this afternoon and am hoping that my doctor was able to let the perinatologist weigh in on the scans as well.
A big thank you for all the love, support and prayers. We are so blessed to have great news to share and are hoping that after our next scan we will truly be given the "all clear". We know that there are no guarantees in life and I promise that I am going to try and start enjoying this pregnancy thing once and for all.. after all, we'll be meeting our little girl in less than 15 weeks! :)
Friday's scan went great. We were so lucky to have an AWESOME tech who could definitely feel our anxiety and did his best to put our minds at ease. Our last scan took an hour to complete for EVERYTHING and this one took almost an hour and half... just on her heart and tummy. We have one wiggly little girl in there :)
We got great news that her heart looks perfect. Her positioning last time probably wasn't that great, but her right ventricle is there, properly sized, functioning perfectly and all the veins and arteries look just as they should. One big hurdle we crossed there!
The spot in her stomach- is still there. After the scan, I asked the tech about her tummy and he said, "I saw it, but I'm not sure it's something that I would have even mentioned in my report if this was the first time we saw it." He did want the radiologist to see it in real time, as opposed to the pictures he snapped. She was available and spent time with us looking at it. She has no idea what it is, but it's only affecting her small bowel, which is apparently a good thing. Without any other soft markers, she has no real idea what could be causing it. We will follow up with another ultrasound next month. Her growth pattern is perfect- right in the 50th percentile for all major organs/systems and she weighs a whopping 1lb 9oz!
I'd love to say that I walked out of the appointment feeling overjoyed, but I just wish that we had gotten the complete all clear. Obviously, I'd much rather her still have the tummy issues rather than the heart issues, but I just can't seem to relax. The radiologist and the tech both told me NOT TO WORRY and to enjoy my pregnancy but I'm just not there yet.
Our weekend was a really good one- Friday night one of M's co-workers hosted a wine and appetizers party. There must've been something in the water... out of about 50 people, I counted 7 pregnant women besides me! It was nice to get a break after the build-up to the ultrasound and M's friends are so sweet. I didn't know what he had or hadn't mentioned to people at work and when we got there they were so excited. (I think he forewarned them if we didn't show up, it wasn't good news!) So lots of hugs and lots of promises of more prayers to go around. Saturday I finally slept in for the first time in ages. We putzed around the house and met my parents for an early dinner. Stopped by the mall to return some things to the maternity store and then got home and stayed put- it was so cold and windy. Yesterday, we finished our taxes (thank goodness... we are getting a nice refund! Unfortunately, none of that money will go for anything "fun", but it couldn't have come at a better time). Last night, M insisted that we go look at baby furniture... which was interesting.
Because of the fact that I am horribly good at denial, I haven't wanted to do anything baby related. Other than starting a tupperware bin full of adorable pink things (to include glittery pink sneakers-love them!), I've basically done nothing to get ready for the baby. I've read blogs of people who knew that there child didn't have a prayer and they still made nurseries. I didn't get that. I mean... isn't that a horrible painful reminder of what could have been? M and I had a long discussion about that and he said it's about holding out hope and that people cope in their own way. Apparently mine was to act like I wasn't pregnant until we got the all clear.
Even though we pretty much did, I still have been dragging my feet. So, off we went to Babies R Us. That place is completely overwhelming and every fear I have ever had about being a mother completely sunk in yesterday. It was bizzare. I felt like M and I had a complete role reversal. You know where the guy goes shopping with his insanely pregnant wife and she's cooing over swings and pack-n-plays and all color has drained from his face? That was me. I guess I just don't know where to start.
I did decide that I want to paint her room a pale pink (I was all for gender neutral in case we have another baby at some point, but who cares? We can always re-paint) and I love this wall art http://www.amazon.com/RoomMates-RMK1439SLM-Scroll-Stick-MegaPack/dp/B003NGTNFG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1329145623&sr=8-1. When we went to Babies R Us, it turns out they have the whole line of bedding, lamps, etc in the same pattern. I think the owls are just adorable. So that was exciting :)
We found furniture we love and are very lucky that my parents have agreed to spring for the crib. Now it's just on to more fun stuff- registering, shower ideas for my sister, getting her room ready, starting our baby care & childbirth classes, naming her :) (I hope that she will eventually be EBH, but I'm not sure M is on board yet...)
I have my 6 month (holy cow!) check up this afternoon and am hoping that my doctor was able to let the perinatologist weigh in on the scans as well.
A big thank you for all the love, support and prayers. We are so blessed to have great news to share and are hoping that after our next scan we will truly be given the "all clear". We know that there are no guarantees in life and I promise that I am going to try and start enjoying this pregnancy thing once and for all.. after all, we'll be meeting our little girl in less than 15 weeks! :)
Friday, February 10, 2012
Things
I've been thinking a lot about things and have quite the list going in my head...
Something I love: Playing mancala every night on my iPhone with M once we've gotten into bed. I especially love beating him 3 times in a row last night and being the winner for the third night in a row. BOOOYAAAAAAA!
Something I treasure: My Grandma's wedding ring, carefully worn on my right ring finger. It's a tiny wisp of gold for a tiny wisp of a lady. Hard to believe that I have her same tiny (size 4) fingers. But there was nothing tiny about her.
Something that makes me laugh: M farting. It sounds so incredibly disgusting, but I seriously turn into an 11 year old boy every time he does it. Especially since his face turns red and he lets out the most goregous belly laugh I've ever heard. Being pregnant now means I can return the favor occasionally. Just typing that, I am sitting at my desk snickering. Farts? Really? But never fails to get a good laugh out of me.
Something that secretly pleases me: When I tell people that I'm 6 months pregnant and they look at me like I'm nuts. I'm carrying pretty small for being 6 months already. I really do sort of look like I swallowed a basketball. And every worry aside and obviously the fact that this is really vain... but I really enjoy it. I've always had a body complex and I've worked fairly hard to not "let myself go". It helps that my weight was always in my middle anyway, so my chicken legs look even chicken-er. Now that I'm really starting to have a bump, I'm feeling quite beautiful.
Something that makes me grateful: That just this morning- nearly EVERY person I've told (in real life) about our worries has miraculously remembered that today is the day without any prodding and has called, emailed or texted to let us know that their prayers are with us and our little girl today. My heart really is pouring out with the amount of love that our little girl already has surrounding her. No matter the outcome, there are so many people who love us and care about us. I've known this all along, but today it has been really evident that there are so many loving people on TEAM BERTHA!
Something that makes me fearful: The unknown. The what ifs. The "where do we go from here"s?
Something that annoys me: I must share this story. There is a woman at my office who is about 5 weeks behind me in her pregnancy. As I was walking past her desk yesterday, she was sobbing. Racking, full on body sobs. Granted, I do not know this woman, but I felt compelled to stop. I asked her what was wrong and she looked up with eyes full of tears and she said she just got off the phone with her doctor. My stomach dropped, my mouth went dry and I had tears in my eyes that were threatening to spill out when she said, "and they couldn't determine gender on my last ultrasound... I don't know if it's a boy or a girl". CHRIST. The thing about it that annoys me isn't that she is so fucking oblivious, it's the fact that I will NEVER have this. I will never have those worries. From the second I had my huge bleed at 11 weeks, I've never again been a laize-faire pregnant woman. I am annoyed that was taken from me. I must admit, I wasn't annoyed at this woman- I was livid with her. I'm pretty sure I mumbled that it would all work out, turned purple and walked away. I did actually contemplate where I could go to scream without anyone hearing me. :)
Something that frustrates me: That I have no control over making sure that I have a healthy pregnancy. I can do everything right- take every vitamin, exercise, eat a healthy diet, stay away from high mercury fish and pollution and things can still go wrong. And a crack addict can have her 7th healthy child in as many years.
Something that brings me joy: Running. Not while I'm doing it, mind you, but when I'm finished. Pure, unadulterated joy.
Something that terrifies me: Having a special needs child. I said it. I figure you guys won't judge, right? If I'm writing what people want to hear, then why I am I writing? I am so fearful of losing Bertha, but even more fearful that she is going to need extra help that I can't give her. Rationally, I know I will do whatever it is that my child needs to have the best life possible but I am TERRIFIED.
Something that calms me: I hate sleeping close to M at night. Absolutely hate it. I prefer to burrito myself in the covers on my own side of the bed. Cuddling? Great... in the morning... if we aren't late (which is basically just weekends). But this morning, when I woke up far before the sun and my alarm clock and got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I woke him and said, "I need a cuddle". And he spooned me and rubbed my back and all was right in the world. It's pretty great knowing that's all it takes sometimes.
I could go on and on all day making lists but let's face it- we are T minus 3 hours from our next scan. I am at work, mostly because I'd be pulling my hair out at home, and if you could see me- I can't sit still. I alternate between the serene belief that this will all be behind me shortly and the impending terror of specialists, doom and gloom. I keep imagining Bertha as a teen, doing something that really ticks me off and saying to her, "I love you more than you know. I've loved you more than I've ever loved anything or anyone for longer than you've realized." And then showing her this page and getting a good chuckle out of how much worry she caused me, even when she was in the womb. And then we'll hug and braid each others hair and I'll tell her beautiful brown wide eyes that she's still grounded. Because as much as I love her, she still ticks me off. And that's getting me through today.
I got so many comments yesterday via email and my old blog that I just want to say thank you. Thank you- all of you, even the non-commenters (who let me know SOMEONE is reading this) for letting me know I'm not alone. Sometimes it's a lonely feeling but I am NOT alone. I know I've admitted to struggling with my faith lately but I must tell you that as I'm typing, tears are welling up in my eyes because I know JUST how many of you are praying for us today. I can feel the prayers, like a warm, soft blanket wrapped around me in the middle of this storm. It comforts me to know that so many people are lifting us up and it amazes me even more to think about those who are doing it silently, the ones we don't even know about.
A common theme lately has been that no matter what, our friends and family know that I will be okay. Michael and I will be okay. We have a strong foundation in our faith and our marriage and come what may, we will be okay. I have never once doubted that no matter the outcome, we will be okay. After all, no one is promised tomorrow. But to be reminded over and over again that come what may, we will be okay has been extremely comforting. Kind of like once you repeat something over and over again, it starts to become true? :)
So shameless plug here- KEEP PRAYING. Keep sending good thoughts, good vibes, excellent ju-ju, what have you. I am humbled by the lack of faith that I've shown and the people who have picked up the slack for me. We probably won't have any news until at least Monday night, but if we do, I will update.
Thanks for making me feel that I'm not alone.
Something I love: Playing mancala every night on my iPhone with M once we've gotten into bed. I especially love beating him 3 times in a row last night and being the winner for the third night in a row. BOOOYAAAAAAA!
Something I treasure: My Grandma's wedding ring, carefully worn on my right ring finger. It's a tiny wisp of gold for a tiny wisp of a lady. Hard to believe that I have her same tiny (size 4) fingers. But there was nothing tiny about her.
Something that makes me laugh: M farting. It sounds so incredibly disgusting, but I seriously turn into an 11 year old boy every time he does it. Especially since his face turns red and he lets out the most goregous belly laugh I've ever heard. Being pregnant now means I can return the favor occasionally. Just typing that, I am sitting at my desk snickering. Farts? Really? But never fails to get a good laugh out of me.
Something that secretly pleases me: When I tell people that I'm 6 months pregnant and they look at me like I'm nuts. I'm carrying pretty small for being 6 months already. I really do sort of look like I swallowed a basketball. And every worry aside and obviously the fact that this is really vain... but I really enjoy it. I've always had a body complex and I've worked fairly hard to not "let myself go". It helps that my weight was always in my middle anyway, so my chicken legs look even chicken-er. Now that I'm really starting to have a bump, I'm feeling quite beautiful.
Something that makes me grateful: That just this morning- nearly EVERY person I've told (in real life) about our worries has miraculously remembered that today is the day without any prodding and has called, emailed or texted to let us know that their prayers are with us and our little girl today. My heart really is pouring out with the amount of love that our little girl already has surrounding her. No matter the outcome, there are so many people who love us and care about us. I've known this all along, but today it has been really evident that there are so many loving people on TEAM BERTHA!
Something that makes me fearful: The unknown. The what ifs. The "where do we go from here"s?
Something that annoys me: I must share this story. There is a woman at my office who is about 5 weeks behind me in her pregnancy. As I was walking past her desk yesterday, she was sobbing. Racking, full on body sobs. Granted, I do not know this woman, but I felt compelled to stop. I asked her what was wrong and she looked up with eyes full of tears and she said she just got off the phone with her doctor. My stomach dropped, my mouth went dry and I had tears in my eyes that were threatening to spill out when she said, "and they couldn't determine gender on my last ultrasound... I don't know if it's a boy or a girl". CHRIST. The thing about it that annoys me isn't that she is so fucking oblivious, it's the fact that I will NEVER have this. I will never have those worries. From the second I had my huge bleed at 11 weeks, I've never again been a laize-faire pregnant woman. I am annoyed that was taken from me. I must admit, I wasn't annoyed at this woman- I was livid with her. I'm pretty sure I mumbled that it would all work out, turned purple and walked away. I did actually contemplate where I could go to scream without anyone hearing me. :)
Something that frustrates me: That I have no control over making sure that I have a healthy pregnancy. I can do everything right- take every vitamin, exercise, eat a healthy diet, stay away from high mercury fish and pollution and things can still go wrong. And a crack addict can have her 7th healthy child in as many years.
Something that brings me joy: Running. Not while I'm doing it, mind you, but when I'm finished. Pure, unadulterated joy.
Something that terrifies me: Having a special needs child. I said it. I figure you guys won't judge, right? If I'm writing what people want to hear, then why I am I writing? I am so fearful of losing Bertha, but even more fearful that she is going to need extra help that I can't give her. Rationally, I know I will do whatever it is that my child needs to have the best life possible but I am TERRIFIED.
Something that calms me: I hate sleeping close to M at night. Absolutely hate it. I prefer to burrito myself in the covers on my own side of the bed. Cuddling? Great... in the morning... if we aren't late (which is basically just weekends). But this morning, when I woke up far before the sun and my alarm clock and got that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I woke him and said, "I need a cuddle". And he spooned me and rubbed my back and all was right in the world. It's pretty great knowing that's all it takes sometimes.
I could go on and on all day making lists but let's face it- we are T minus 3 hours from our next scan. I am at work, mostly because I'd be pulling my hair out at home, and if you could see me- I can't sit still. I alternate between the serene belief that this will all be behind me shortly and the impending terror of specialists, doom and gloom. I keep imagining Bertha as a teen, doing something that really ticks me off and saying to her, "I love you more than you know. I've loved you more than I've ever loved anything or anyone for longer than you've realized." And then showing her this page and getting a good chuckle out of how much worry she caused me, even when she was in the womb. And then we'll hug and braid each others hair and I'll tell her beautiful brown wide eyes that she's still grounded. Because as much as I love her, she still ticks me off. And that's getting me through today.
I got so many comments yesterday via email and my old blog that I just want to say thank you. Thank you- all of you, even the non-commenters (who let me know SOMEONE is reading this) for letting me know I'm not alone. Sometimes it's a lonely feeling but I am NOT alone. I know I've admitted to struggling with my faith lately but I must tell you that as I'm typing, tears are welling up in my eyes because I know JUST how many of you are praying for us today. I can feel the prayers, like a warm, soft blanket wrapped around me in the middle of this storm. It comforts me to know that so many people are lifting us up and it amazes me even more to think about those who are doing it silently, the ones we don't even know about.
A common theme lately has been that no matter what, our friends and family know that I will be okay. Michael and I will be okay. We have a strong foundation in our faith and our marriage and come what may, we will be okay. I have never once doubted that no matter the outcome, we will be okay. After all, no one is promised tomorrow. But to be reminded over and over again that come what may, we will be okay has been extremely comforting. Kind of like once you repeat something over and over again, it starts to become true? :)
So shameless plug here- KEEP PRAYING. Keep sending good thoughts, good vibes, excellent ju-ju, what have you. I am humbled by the lack of faith that I've shown and the people who have picked up the slack for me. We probably won't have any news until at least Monday night, but if we do, I will update.
Thanks for making me feel that I'm not alone.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
The long wait.
So we've been back from Key West since early Monday morning and I have tried to write on here about 10 times so far. Each time, the words and thoughts that are swirling around in my head are just too much and I normally just close out the window. I am still here though, and in serious need of some sort of release.
It was a great trip. The weather was beautiful, the food was great, our B&B was goregous. It was nice to have some time to spend with M one on one, since our jobs and the pregnancy doesn't leave us much time to just "be".
I realized on this trip that one of my worst flaws may be the fact that I cannot simply relax and "do nothing". I always feel like I'm missing something. Of the 5 days that we were in Key West, we pretty much did everything touristy there was to do, visited the beach, had a massage.. etc. At 6 months pregnant, I never once stopped to take a nap. I finished a book between the airport and waiting for M to finish getting ready one morning. I think part of my problem is that when I'm not busy, I think... and thinking lately has been really, really tough on me.
I thought getting away would be the cure-all for the anxiety I am feeling over Friday's ultrasound. I figured some sunshine, fresh seafood and the sea would the cure for all that ails me. And to be perfectly honest- I am just exhausted this week. The only time I could find to worry last week was late at night, long after M's breathing got shallow. I blamed it on being 6 months pregnant and in a new environment, but with every kick (Bertha's getting so strong.. I'd hate to feel her jabs if I didn't have my placenta in the front shielding my poor belly!) I just couldn't help but fear the worst. I came home exhausted, even more fearful and just emotionally spent.
I feel very alone. M finally felt her kick last week and while his eyes got really big, he doesn't have the connection I have with her- he doesn't talk about her unless I bring it up first. My Mom is still in her denial phase about all of this, which stings since she basically makes a HUGE deal out of everything (including having to get a tooth pulled today.. you woulda thought somoene was dying..). My Dad, surprisingly, has provided me the most comfort, but I can't talk to him without crying. He told me this morning he'd spent the morning at the chapel praying for us before work again and it rips me apart- I have always felt so strong and secure in my faith and I honestly feel it going right out the window. It's not that I can't fathom that bad things can happen and not that I believe God is punishing me.. it's just I feel so damn disconnected right now and I don't know how to get that peace that everything will work out back. My sister was great the first week or so- texting every day, letting me vent... but she was on vacation with her boyfriend and had the time. Now that she's back to real life with the kiddos, I haven't heard from her. It hurts. The few girlfriends I've told have been great- asking when the scan is and saying comforting things. Key West was the worst. Everywhere we went people smiled at me, told me how great I looked, asked how far along I was. When I told them I was having a girl they all just beamed. It was hard for me to play the part of naive pregnant lady. I figured a 30 second convo probably didn't need me adding in, "But she could die..." but like I said, I just feel so fucking alone all the time.
As goes along with never sitting still, I am a planner. There is a part of me that wants to get through Friday and then to Monday, when we'll hopefully get results. Then hopefully I can breathe a huge sigh of relief, start planning the nursery, registering for showers, giving my sister my shower list, and buying tons of pink clothes because I know my baby is okay. I don't think I'll ever be really sure that things are going to work out, even when she's here, but it will be a huge weight off my shoulders. The other, more cynical part of me, knows that 48 hours from now I might be wishing to live these moments of carefree unknowingness (even ones filled with worry and fear) for ever and ever.
So, I sit and I wait. I work at the office, putting out fires that the re-org has introduced. I find myself laughing with co-workers and playing with Lucy. And then the sick feeling comes back. The nagging feeling that catches in my throat. The one that haunts me when I wake up and when I lay my head down at night and especially when I'm least expecting it. I don't know what to do. This limbo feels like it's taking forever.
We went to the hospital for a tour on Monday night. We saw the nursery. We saw a sweet little baby who was a bit jaundiced under the sun lights. Is it sick that I wish for "just" jaundice? I looked at those little tiny beings, rooting around, looking at their hands, crying for their moms and it hit me that GOOD GOD THIS COULD NOT HAPPEN FOR ME. And I stuffed it down, smiled and cooed like all the other big bellied ladies and wondered when will this end?
Morbid thoughts overtake me all the time. Like... would we bury her or cremate her? While M and I both think we want to be cremated, there's something about having a place to go and visit her that is comforting. Besides, what do you do with baby ashes? Keep them somewhere? What happens after I die? Do they get passed down along the family until someone somewhere decides that they are worthless like Grandma's lamp? This is usually when my mind kicks in, "STOP. SHE IS NOT GOING TO DIE. She is more than likely going to be fine. You will look back on this worry and laugh. You will be exhausted from taking care of an infant, you will be rushing her to daycare in the mornings even later than you already are getting out of the house, you will be pissed that you aren't pumping enough breast milk. Your worries will be whether or not this is PPD, whether her temperature is too high and why in the fuck your families won't go home."
I just can't quiet my mind. The fear is constantly there. I want to pray, to take solace in my faith and it JUST isn't happening right now. It's not that I don't believe. I just can't right now.
49 more hours till the ultrasound... 49 more hours.
It was a great trip. The weather was beautiful, the food was great, our B&B was goregous. It was nice to have some time to spend with M one on one, since our jobs and the pregnancy doesn't leave us much time to just "be".
I realized on this trip that one of my worst flaws may be the fact that I cannot simply relax and "do nothing". I always feel like I'm missing something. Of the 5 days that we were in Key West, we pretty much did everything touristy there was to do, visited the beach, had a massage.. etc. At 6 months pregnant, I never once stopped to take a nap. I finished a book between the airport and waiting for M to finish getting ready one morning. I think part of my problem is that when I'm not busy, I think... and thinking lately has been really, really tough on me.
I thought getting away would be the cure-all for the anxiety I am feeling over Friday's ultrasound. I figured some sunshine, fresh seafood and the sea would the cure for all that ails me. And to be perfectly honest- I am just exhausted this week. The only time I could find to worry last week was late at night, long after M's breathing got shallow. I blamed it on being 6 months pregnant and in a new environment, but with every kick (Bertha's getting so strong.. I'd hate to feel her jabs if I didn't have my placenta in the front shielding my poor belly!) I just couldn't help but fear the worst. I came home exhausted, even more fearful and just emotionally spent.
I feel very alone. M finally felt her kick last week and while his eyes got really big, he doesn't have the connection I have with her- he doesn't talk about her unless I bring it up first. My Mom is still in her denial phase about all of this, which stings since she basically makes a HUGE deal out of everything (including having to get a tooth pulled today.. you woulda thought somoene was dying..). My Dad, surprisingly, has provided me the most comfort, but I can't talk to him without crying. He told me this morning he'd spent the morning at the chapel praying for us before work again and it rips me apart- I have always felt so strong and secure in my faith and I honestly feel it going right out the window. It's not that I can't fathom that bad things can happen and not that I believe God is punishing me.. it's just I feel so damn disconnected right now and I don't know how to get that peace that everything will work out back. My sister was great the first week or so- texting every day, letting me vent... but she was on vacation with her boyfriend and had the time. Now that she's back to real life with the kiddos, I haven't heard from her. It hurts. The few girlfriends I've told have been great- asking when the scan is and saying comforting things. Key West was the worst. Everywhere we went people smiled at me, told me how great I looked, asked how far along I was. When I told them I was having a girl they all just beamed. It was hard for me to play the part of naive pregnant lady. I figured a 30 second convo probably didn't need me adding in, "But she could die..." but like I said, I just feel so fucking alone all the time.
As goes along with never sitting still, I am a planner. There is a part of me that wants to get through Friday and then to Monday, when we'll hopefully get results. Then hopefully I can breathe a huge sigh of relief, start planning the nursery, registering for showers, giving my sister my shower list, and buying tons of pink clothes because I know my baby is okay. I don't think I'll ever be really sure that things are going to work out, even when she's here, but it will be a huge weight off my shoulders. The other, more cynical part of me, knows that 48 hours from now I might be wishing to live these moments of carefree unknowingness (even ones filled with worry and fear) for ever and ever.
So, I sit and I wait. I work at the office, putting out fires that the re-org has introduced. I find myself laughing with co-workers and playing with Lucy. And then the sick feeling comes back. The nagging feeling that catches in my throat. The one that haunts me when I wake up and when I lay my head down at night and especially when I'm least expecting it. I don't know what to do. This limbo feels like it's taking forever.
We went to the hospital for a tour on Monday night. We saw the nursery. We saw a sweet little baby who was a bit jaundiced under the sun lights. Is it sick that I wish for "just" jaundice? I looked at those little tiny beings, rooting around, looking at their hands, crying for their moms and it hit me that GOOD GOD THIS COULD NOT HAPPEN FOR ME. And I stuffed it down, smiled and cooed like all the other big bellied ladies and wondered when will this end?
Morbid thoughts overtake me all the time. Like... would we bury her or cremate her? While M and I both think we want to be cremated, there's something about having a place to go and visit her that is comforting. Besides, what do you do with baby ashes? Keep them somewhere? What happens after I die? Do they get passed down along the family until someone somewhere decides that they are worthless like Grandma's lamp? This is usually when my mind kicks in, "STOP. SHE IS NOT GOING TO DIE. She is more than likely going to be fine. You will look back on this worry and laugh. You will be exhausted from taking care of an infant, you will be rushing her to daycare in the mornings even later than you already are getting out of the house, you will be pissed that you aren't pumping enough breast milk. Your worries will be whether or not this is PPD, whether her temperature is too high and why in the fuck your families won't go home."
I just can't quiet my mind. The fear is constantly there. I want to pray, to take solace in my faith and it JUST isn't happening right now. It's not that I don't believe. I just can't right now.
49 more hours till the ultrasound... 49 more hours.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Weekend.
So, what I didn't mention in my last post is that I'm sick... again.
It's true that your immune system pretty much shits the bed when you get pregnant- and for good reason. If it didn't lower its resistance, then it would treat your little bean as a foreign body and try to get rid of it. The unforunate part being that I am a sickie by nature and therefore if someone sneezes within 30349 feet of me, I'm sick.
I've had this respiratory thing THREE times since June. In June, it got so bad that they thought I had whooping cough (seriously, don't laugh.. it was awful) and it took me almost 6 weeks to get better. I got it again in November at about 11 weeks pregnant and have it again now. The really great part about being sick and pregnant? The meds... saline spray, tylenol and cough drops. I've literally had dreams about Nyquil for weeks on end...
My usual MO is to wait about 10 days after I get sick and then head in to see the doctor. I feel like if you haven't been sick for long enough, they tend to make you wait it out with the old "it's a virus" thing and being in a waiting room with other sick people means that by the time I go back a week or two later, I'm REALLY sick. Not this time, though. I woke up on Monday feeling a little congested in my chest and by Thursday, I knew it meant business. Not to mention that we've got our big vacay coming up on Wednesday and come hell or high water, I'm going to be in Key West. So Friday morning, I e-mailed my boss, told her I was sick (I swear she must think that I'm a closet pregnancy pack-a-day smoker) and magically got an appointment that morning with my GP (it is amazing what perks there are being pregnant.. ha ha). Sure enough, I'm wheezing and there isn't a whole hell of a lot to do about it. Well, we can do something about it, but all the drugs are class C, meaning that not enough pregnant with a cough wanted to try out steroids in a clinical trial on their kid while they were pregnant so the safety of the drug for the baby is in question. (Strangely enough, penicillin is perfectly safe during pregnancy and they know this because they had to do studies on pregnant women during syphillis outbreaks... uhh, thanks for the trivia, doc..) It's probably wise to note here that I was an ashmatic as a child and so yes, anytime anything gets into my chest it normally requires antibiotics, nebulizer treatments around the clock and a lovely 14 day course of prednisone in order to get my inflamation under control. Anyway, the good old GP decides that since I'm far enough along, we should probably go ahead with the usual course of action and I, of course, freak out.
I get in touch with my super perinatalogist (who I haven't even met yet) on his take on the meds. He basically says that little Bertha is already formed and I'm not doing her much good if I can't breathe, now am I? He even chuckles about the prednisone (which the GP has reduced to a 5 day course) and says that "hey, you're close to viability anyway, so if something happened and you went into labor, she'd have an even better shot because her lungs are getting matured as we speak..." Umm. Thanks?!
Needless to say, I was told to spend the weekend in bed. And I pretty much did. Which left me a lot of time to think. Which is not good. Not to mention that prednisone makes me pretty much act like a crack head. Trying to stay in bed or on the couch while thinking about the million things I should be doing or the fact that I may or may not be bringing home a baby from the hosptial makes me a little bit.. oh, cranky. Weepy. PSYCHO. Seriously, the last time I was on prednisone, I remember being awake at 3AM making an apple crisp and cleaning the little crevices in my kitchen cabinets with a TOOTHBRUSH.
This possibly having a catastrophically ill kid thing is not going so well for me. Like most people, I do well when I'm busy- it's the late nights and quiet times (the shower always gets me) where I start to imagine the worst and start to fall apart. I was happy to get back to work today.
Except that by missing Friday, I missed the fact that someone high up got promoted to even higher up and there was a massive re-org in my branch that basically has completely and totally bummed me the heck out. While my boss is still my boss (Can we get a THANK GOD?), she will be filling in for the guy who got promoted until they can post his old position and get someone new in. I work for the Federal Government, so basically, I don't plan on seeing her until I get back from maternity leave in September. One of her minions is stepping up into her place for the time being, so he will essentially be my boss. Nice guy, but I get the feeling that he doesn't like me. I can't place it and it may just be the way he is, but I am not looking forward to working the next 3 months without my awesome boss around. AND, the higher up who got promoted is taking his right-hand woman, who I've been very close to and has basically been mentoring me in all ways to move up in the government world. So, to say I'm bummed is pretty much putting it lightly.
I don't know how many times in my life I've uttered the phrase, "I really need a vacation..." but I'm sure it's more than I'm entitled to. I've never actually meant it more than I do right now.
And there are a lot of things in life to bitch about obviously- and I have two major worries clearly- my sweet girl and what's going to happen long-term with my job, but damn- can't someone make a maternity bathing suit that doesn't make me look like I'm going to water aerobics with Grandma?! :)
It's true that your immune system pretty much shits the bed when you get pregnant- and for good reason. If it didn't lower its resistance, then it would treat your little bean as a foreign body and try to get rid of it. The unforunate part being that I am a sickie by nature and therefore if someone sneezes within 30349 feet of me, I'm sick.
I've had this respiratory thing THREE times since June. In June, it got so bad that they thought I had whooping cough (seriously, don't laugh.. it was awful) and it took me almost 6 weeks to get better. I got it again in November at about 11 weeks pregnant and have it again now. The really great part about being sick and pregnant? The meds... saline spray, tylenol and cough drops. I've literally had dreams about Nyquil for weeks on end...
My usual MO is to wait about 10 days after I get sick and then head in to see the doctor. I feel like if you haven't been sick for long enough, they tend to make you wait it out with the old "it's a virus" thing and being in a waiting room with other sick people means that by the time I go back a week or two later, I'm REALLY sick. Not this time, though. I woke up on Monday feeling a little congested in my chest and by Thursday, I knew it meant business. Not to mention that we've got our big vacay coming up on Wednesday and come hell or high water, I'm going to be in Key West. So Friday morning, I e-mailed my boss, told her I was sick (I swear she must think that I'm a closet pregnancy pack-a-day smoker) and magically got an appointment that morning with my GP (it is amazing what perks there are being pregnant.. ha ha). Sure enough, I'm wheezing and there isn't a whole hell of a lot to do about it. Well, we can do something about it, but all the drugs are class C, meaning that not enough pregnant with a cough wanted to try out steroids in a clinical trial on their kid while they were pregnant so the safety of the drug for the baby is in question. (Strangely enough, penicillin is perfectly safe during pregnancy and they know this because they had to do studies on pregnant women during syphillis outbreaks... uhh, thanks for the trivia, doc..) It's probably wise to note here that I was an ashmatic as a child and so yes, anytime anything gets into my chest it normally requires antibiotics, nebulizer treatments around the clock and a lovely 14 day course of prednisone in order to get my inflamation under control. Anyway, the good old GP decides that since I'm far enough along, we should probably go ahead with the usual course of action and I, of course, freak out.
I get in touch with my super perinatalogist (who I haven't even met yet) on his take on the meds. He basically says that little Bertha is already formed and I'm not doing her much good if I can't breathe, now am I? He even chuckles about the prednisone (which the GP has reduced to a 5 day course) and says that "hey, you're close to viability anyway, so if something happened and you went into labor, she'd have an even better shot because her lungs are getting matured as we speak..." Umm. Thanks?!
Needless to say, I was told to spend the weekend in bed. And I pretty much did. Which left me a lot of time to think. Which is not good. Not to mention that prednisone makes me pretty much act like a crack head. Trying to stay in bed or on the couch while thinking about the million things I should be doing or the fact that I may or may not be bringing home a baby from the hosptial makes me a little bit.. oh, cranky. Weepy. PSYCHO. Seriously, the last time I was on prednisone, I remember being awake at 3AM making an apple crisp and cleaning the little crevices in my kitchen cabinets with a TOOTHBRUSH.
This possibly having a catastrophically ill kid thing is not going so well for me. Like most people, I do well when I'm busy- it's the late nights and quiet times (the shower always gets me) where I start to imagine the worst and start to fall apart. I was happy to get back to work today.
Except that by missing Friday, I missed the fact that someone high up got promoted to even higher up and there was a massive re-org in my branch that basically has completely and totally bummed me the heck out. While my boss is still my boss (Can we get a THANK GOD?), she will be filling in for the guy who got promoted until they can post his old position and get someone new in. I work for the Federal Government, so basically, I don't plan on seeing her until I get back from maternity leave in September. One of her minions is stepping up into her place for the time being, so he will essentially be my boss. Nice guy, but I get the feeling that he doesn't like me. I can't place it and it may just be the way he is, but I am not looking forward to working the next 3 months without my awesome boss around. AND, the higher up who got promoted is taking his right-hand woman, who I've been very close to and has basically been mentoring me in all ways to move up in the government world. So, to say I'm bummed is pretty much putting it lightly.
I don't know how many times in my life I've uttered the phrase, "I really need a vacation..." but I'm sure it's more than I'm entitled to. I've never actually meant it more than I do right now.
And there are a lot of things in life to bitch about obviously- and I have two major worries clearly- my sweet girl and what's going to happen long-term with my job, but damn- can't someone make a maternity bathing suit that doesn't make me look like I'm going to water aerobics with Grandma?! :)
Thursday, January 26, 2012
News.
So, basically, I've avoided posting on here for a while because I just couldn't bring myself to write about what's been going on. But I feel like at some point, I will need to look back on this and remember how horribly awful it was and hopefully see that everything turned out a-ok.
Last Thursday, M & I went in for our mid-pregnancy ultrasound. As a disclaimer, we didn't do any first trimester screening. This was for a few reasons. First of all, I'm not all pro-life or anything, but for the two of us, we don't view termination as an option. Second, the false positive rate for things like Down's and nerual tube defects are sky high and the only way to know for sure after getting results like that is to have an amnio. Amnio= risk of miscarriage, so we figured we'd wait until our mid-pregnancy ultrasound and sort anything out then. We spent about an hour in the ultrasound on Thursday and saw her kicking away, sucking her thumb and the tech printed us out a bunch of strips of adorable baby feet and profile photos. She asked us to wait while she showed the radiologist, and then a few minutes later dismissed us.
We had a doctor's appointment right after the ultrasound and the doctor asked how it went. We said we didn't have any indication either way, and she said that if the radiologist didn't ask to speak with us that we were probably in the clear.
We weren't. I got the phone call Monday morning while my doctor was at the hospital performing a C-section. I just missed her call informing me there are some abnormalities she'd like to discuss. Waiting for her to call back was an eternity. You know, that pit in your stomach.
2 hours later, she revealed that there are two possible problems with our sweetie. First, they couldn't see the right ventricle in her heart. Second, there was a bright spot near her stomach that was abnormal. Her initial take was: the baby was in a bad spot and her ventricle couldn't be seen and that will change with a repeat U/S. The spot on the stomach could be an artifact of the machine, it could be something that goes away, it could be something like a mild hernia.
Then came the sucker punch: or... it could be markers of a trisomy... Down's, or worse- a lethal defect. We won't know until we do another scan, but we need to wait for her to get bigger... about a month. There was no way to process this information. I hung up the phone, called M, cried my eyes out in the work bathroom and somehow got through the day. I spent all of Monday night sobbing- you know the kind, 8 hours straight and can hardly open the little slits your eyes have become.
Tuesday I started becoming my own Dr. Google. This is NOT a recommended course of action because basically everything that goes wrong is written about by someone on the internet. I came up with a list of questions and e-mailed my doctor (our lovely HMO doesn't have phone numbers direct into offices). She told me again that I'd have to wait for my ultrasound.
Yesterday, I got pissed. Like, mama bear wants to know why the hell you are not listening to me. So, I got back on the email with her and she finally called. She referred us to an excellent perinatologist who looked at my scans. He agreed that we need to wait for her to get bigger to see everything better but allowed us to move the scans up to February 10th. In his experience, this could be nothing more than a (literal) blip on the ultrasound that resolves itself by then. It could be a trisomy, something he couldn't discount, but said that he was leaning towards her being chromosonally normal. His thoughts were that if the heart continued to be an issue, it was probably NOT a missing ventricle, but instead a tiny one that would require surgical intervention at birth. The spot in her tummy? It could be a bowel blockage, a hernia, something that would be a pretty easy fix. He seems to think that at least one of the problems will have resolved itself on our next scan and doesn't believe that they are connected.
The game plan is now for a duplicate ultrasound... depending on the results (which will be read by a radiologist, my OB and the high-risk doc) will show our next steps. If everything is fine, I will continue on with my regular OB. If there are issues, I will immediately be transferred to the perinatologist at Children's Hospital here in town and they will monitor me in every way possible. The cardio-thoracic surgeon at Children's is one of the best on the East Coast.
It's a waiting game. God forbid it's a trisomy- there's nothing we would do differently except carry her to term and love her for as long as she's with us. If it's a hernia or bowel issue or a heart issue, they wouldn't do corrective surgery until she's born. I get that. But the fear of the unknown is killing me.
I'm glad I waited to blog until I could get my thoughts straightened out a bit. I am VERY lucky to have a friend who went through an incredibly difficult pregnancy and ended up with a son who needs extra help. She subsequently had a healthy second pregnancy and has been able to shed SO MUCH light on things for me. The last 72 hours have been a bit of a blur and I'm still not there.
So, prayers/good thoughts/candles lit/rain dances... whatever floats your boat for happy, positive thoughts for our little girl are appreciated. Our long-weekend getaway to Key West next week is probably more needed that any vacation we've ever been on and I look forward to sticking my toes in the sand, drinking a virgin daquiri and catching some rays.
Hopefully happier news will be just around the bend.
Last Thursday, M & I went in for our mid-pregnancy ultrasound. As a disclaimer, we didn't do any first trimester screening. This was for a few reasons. First of all, I'm not all pro-life or anything, but for the two of us, we don't view termination as an option. Second, the false positive rate for things like Down's and nerual tube defects are sky high and the only way to know for sure after getting results like that is to have an amnio. Amnio= risk of miscarriage, so we figured we'd wait until our mid-pregnancy ultrasound and sort anything out then. We spent about an hour in the ultrasound on Thursday and saw her kicking away, sucking her thumb and the tech printed us out a bunch of strips of adorable baby feet and profile photos. She asked us to wait while she showed the radiologist, and then a few minutes later dismissed us.
We had a doctor's appointment right after the ultrasound and the doctor asked how it went. We said we didn't have any indication either way, and she said that if the radiologist didn't ask to speak with us that we were probably in the clear.
We weren't. I got the phone call Monday morning while my doctor was at the hospital performing a C-section. I just missed her call informing me there are some abnormalities she'd like to discuss. Waiting for her to call back was an eternity. You know, that pit in your stomach.
2 hours later, she revealed that there are two possible problems with our sweetie. First, they couldn't see the right ventricle in her heart. Second, there was a bright spot near her stomach that was abnormal. Her initial take was: the baby was in a bad spot and her ventricle couldn't be seen and that will change with a repeat U/S. The spot on the stomach could be an artifact of the machine, it could be something that goes away, it could be something like a mild hernia.
Then came the sucker punch: or... it could be markers of a trisomy... Down's, or worse- a lethal defect. We won't know until we do another scan, but we need to wait for her to get bigger... about a month. There was no way to process this information. I hung up the phone, called M, cried my eyes out in the work bathroom and somehow got through the day. I spent all of Monday night sobbing- you know the kind, 8 hours straight and can hardly open the little slits your eyes have become.
Tuesday I started becoming my own Dr. Google. This is NOT a recommended course of action because basically everything that goes wrong is written about by someone on the internet. I came up with a list of questions and e-mailed my doctor (our lovely HMO doesn't have phone numbers direct into offices). She told me again that I'd have to wait for my ultrasound.
Yesterday, I got pissed. Like, mama bear wants to know why the hell you are not listening to me. So, I got back on the email with her and she finally called. She referred us to an excellent perinatologist who looked at my scans. He agreed that we need to wait for her to get bigger to see everything better but allowed us to move the scans up to February 10th. In his experience, this could be nothing more than a (literal) blip on the ultrasound that resolves itself by then. It could be a trisomy, something he couldn't discount, but said that he was leaning towards her being chromosonally normal. His thoughts were that if the heart continued to be an issue, it was probably NOT a missing ventricle, but instead a tiny one that would require surgical intervention at birth. The spot in her tummy? It could be a bowel blockage, a hernia, something that would be a pretty easy fix. He seems to think that at least one of the problems will have resolved itself on our next scan and doesn't believe that they are connected.
The game plan is now for a duplicate ultrasound... depending on the results (which will be read by a radiologist, my OB and the high-risk doc) will show our next steps. If everything is fine, I will continue on with my regular OB. If there are issues, I will immediately be transferred to the perinatologist at Children's Hospital here in town and they will monitor me in every way possible. The cardio-thoracic surgeon at Children's is one of the best on the East Coast.
It's a waiting game. God forbid it's a trisomy- there's nothing we would do differently except carry her to term and love her for as long as she's with us. If it's a hernia or bowel issue or a heart issue, they wouldn't do corrective surgery until she's born. I get that. But the fear of the unknown is killing me.
I'm glad I waited to blog until I could get my thoughts straightened out a bit. I am VERY lucky to have a friend who went through an incredibly difficult pregnancy and ended up with a son who needs extra help. She subsequently had a healthy second pregnancy and has been able to shed SO MUCH light on things for me. The last 72 hours have been a bit of a blur and I'm still not there.
So, prayers/good thoughts/candles lit/rain dances... whatever floats your boat for happy, positive thoughts for our little girl are appreciated. Our long-weekend getaway to Key West next week is probably more needed that any vacation we've ever been on and I look forward to sticking my toes in the sand, drinking a virgin daquiri and catching some rays.
Hopefully happier news will be just around the bend.
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