Friday May 13, 2022
TBD how far along....
“I think I’m pregnant” – me to Jamie, ever so dainty-like as I came out of the Starbucks bathroom for the 1,800th time.
I was cramping and going to the bathroom every 20 minutes.
I could blame the free green tea refills but I think my body has adapted enough to not cramp from them….though that would have made this a much different story.
It also be nothing, but I’ve only felt this way once before.
When I was pregnant with Raya.
But I couldn’t test until Monday.
Sunday May 15, 2022
3w4d
It will be two weeks post-trigger shot tomorrow, and two-weeks post…..potential conception (hashtag sex)….on Tuesday.
So naturally, I cheated and took a pregnancy test tonight.
It was positive.
I took the test and then had a very subdued panic attack (it’s like a regular panic attack but you try not to have it so you don’t lose your child before you can even tell your husband you’re pregnant again).
I was in the middle of showering and talking to God when I peeked at the test and saw the results. Immediately, I downplayed the one thing I swore I’ve been wanting for the past 18 months.
“I know things can still go wrong, and it’s super early and I don’t even know if this pregnancy will stick. I’m not sure if it’s too early to even pray about this or ask for a healthy child or plead to not have a repeat of last time”
Suddenly, I was petrified.
In case you’re wondering what goes through a woman’s mind when she tests positive almost 2 years after she tested positive with her first child that she then lost 22.5 weeks later, please see below.
- It could be too soon to test. I could test again tomorrow and/or Tuesday and it could be negative because the hcG from the trigger shot finally left my system
- It could be a chemical pregnancy
- PCOS patients have a higher likelyhood of pregnancies ending in miscarriage, meaning I could lose this one before 12 weeks and have to start all over.
- I could tell Gregg and then lose the baby, hurting him all over again
- The child could test for genetic abnormalities at the 10-week blood test and not make it
- I could suffer from gestational diabetes or high blood pressure or other pregnancy complications
- I could have a stillborn
- This child could be born with severe medical disabilities and only live a few days
- This child could be diagnosed with Dandy Walker Syndrome at my 20-week anatomy scan, and I could have a repeat of October 2020 exactly 2 years later – in October 2022.
That’s right. Should this pregnancy stick, I will follow almost the exact same timeline as before – only 4 weeks earlier.
At this moment, I am the only person in the world (besides God) that knows I am pregnant.
And I think I will keep it that way for a little while longer.
Just me and the Lord, creating a game plan before I go to bed and bury myself under blankets & potential complications until they smother me to sleep.
Covered & topped with the crazy idea that this pregnancy might just work out.
And that this time next year, Gregg and I could be raising a 4-month old; Raya’s sibling.
And they will be the greatest display of her.
Monday May 16, 2022
3w5d
I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but I also knew if something did happen, that I would need my family just as much as before. So, it was kept between Gregg and I for about 6 hours….
Sunday May 22, 2022
4w4d
Just had to make sure this was still a thing….will I continue to test at 32 weeks if I make this there?
Probably.
Friday June 3, 2022
6w2d
Welp, I am officially nauseous.
Not as terrible as the first time around; I am able to function without Unisom & B6 (although I did stock up in preparation) and can usually soothe it with water and Ritz crackers.
Also last night I laid in bed and ate BBQ potato chips because Gregg was out of town and I am who I am.
I keep running through the full array of emotions that come with pregnancy after loss, to the point where I can’t tell if the fatigue is from growing a child or from going from feeling happy to sad to scared to hungry to confused and back 8,000 times a day.
I can sense it from the others too, as though there just isn’t as much excitement this time around, and I know it’s because I keep answering every pregnancy-related question with “Well, we will see” and starting each child story with “if this goes well”.
But I can’t help it.
Because the more you commit to being happy, the more it’s going to hurt if it all comes crashing down around us.
Someone asks about the pregnancy and I stare at them through a blur of “what ifs” and images of myself praying to God about not being able to survive a loss a second time.
I haven’t even had my first appointment yet – with Raya, my first appointment was at 6 weeks and with this one, I will be 1 day shy of 8 weeks when I receive my first ultrasound. So at this point, I don’t even have concrete evidence that there is a healthy baby growing inside me. And even once I attend that appointment, there are all the tests.
- The urine tests every. single. OB. visit.
- Initial blood workup
- Rh factor testing
- NIPT (non-invasive prenatal testing)
- NT (nuchal translucency)
All the doctor visits that went so well last time that didn’t matter in the end.
The rational side of me (I know, I didn’t know I had one either) understands that things happen for a reason, and that we have found a way to get pregnant. If this one doesn’t work, we can try again – I know that.
I know that some things you just can’t control (I don’t LIKE that, just ask Gregg next time we have to fly somewhere) but I know there are some things that just happen, regardless of what you do to combat them.
I thought about going to therapy, but then I brushed that off as well – I know what I need to do (I saw a Therapist for a billion years when I was younger; I know the game).
And that is learning to accept things as they happen, and deal with events you have a say in.
Things could go wrong.
I could go to my first ultrasound and they won’t find a heartbeat.
I could fail the bloodwork or have to get an amnio again.
I could go through another surgery at 22.5 weeks and have another Nordby baby name engraved next to Raya’s.
But everything could also go well and on/near January 25th, we could be having a baby.
It’s strange that that is never the part that my brain focuses on.
It’s either what could go wrong, or how I would look sitting at Chili’s eating their bottomless chips and salsa by myself.
There is no in-between right now.
Tuesday June 14, 2022
7w6d
“There’s the heartbeat”.
Funny how the second she found the baby’s heartbeat, mine all but stopped.
I didn’t sleep at all last night – I woke up not nauseous and I swear my boobs were no longer sore.
I spent all day thinking I was no longer pregnant, just in time for my first appointment.
The Ultrasound Tech asked how I was feeling and I bawled.
Then she found the heartbeat and I bawled again.
My Doctor came in & I cried once more.
He walked through everything I knew by heart from Raya – what to eat, what not to eat (gosh I want a tuna avocado roll like you wouldn’t believe right now).
It was when we were reviewing all the optional testing that it came up.
“None of these tests check for Dandy Walker Syndrome Jamie, they can’t”.
Oh believe me, I know
“But your ultrasound looks great, and you’re still considered a low-risk pregnancy.”
“It was an anomaly, Jamie – and it shouldn’t happen again”.
“This time around is going to be great, I just know it”.
I could actually picture him eating those words.
It’s a strange sort of terrified to be pregnant after such a traumatic loss.
It’s a mundane, just under the surface kind of fear that’s constantly simmering, just in case it’s called to battle.
Yet the world keeps turning and you keep moving & working & planning.
Because it’s not possible to look through your belly button to confirm your baby’s brain is developing correctly.
It’s not possible to place your hand on your stomach and feel their kidneys functioning or their limbs sprouting.
You have no control over any of it.
It just is what it is.
I booked my next appointment for all the blood work and gender testing and went and walked around Target in a haze (with water, because coffee and tea now make me nauseous which is just the greatest).
There’s no way to know or plan for how a pregnancy will go.
But for now I’m pregnant and healthy and the baby is growing on schedule.
Outside of that, I am fairly helpless.
Friday July 8, 2022
11w2d
“You’re having a – “
I swear the entire world paused between “you’re having a” and “girl”.
I wasn’t even positive afterward that Dr. Clay discussed my blood test results until I vaguely recalled him saying things looked normal.
Oh, and that we would be having another girl.
Which is exciting – and terrifying.
I thought long and hard about how to tell Gregg.
With Raya, Dr. Clay told me as I was standing in the middle of the cheese aisle at Cub, and I drove all the way to the Monticello Fleet Farm (because 2020; everything was closed) to buy a pair of pink Carhartt overalls that I wrapped and gave to Gregg.
When I got home, I dug out those same overalls to give him.
This time, they came from Raya.
Friday July 15, 2022
12w2d
Maternal Fetal Medicine (where we received our confirmatory ultrasound with Raya, officially diagnosing her) offered to do a 12-week ultrasound for “peace of mind”
Newsflash: The peace of mind comes AFTER the appointment, definitely not any sooner.
Gregg stayed up to come with me; which was great because putting me behind the wheel of a car without someone following me would not have ended well with my inability to see straight.
If you’ve never had a 12-week ultrasound, it goes like this:
- They make you walk through your family tree as far back as you can, detailing any illnesses or abnormalities
- “So and so doesn’t always make great decisions” is NOT an abnormality, we were told.
- They have your husband do the same thing, and try to find any similarities
- The ultrasound is performed
- Right away Gregg pointed out the difference between this baby’s brain and Raya’s. Namely, that there wasn’t a giant empty spot on the screen this time.
- By minute 16 of the ultrasound I was done and couldn’t be part of it anymore – I covered my eyes and focused on breathing, trying to drown out as much as possible
- The Ultrasound Tech leaves and you wait for the Doctor
It wasn’t until the Doctor came in and said she had no concerns, that I burst into tears as Gregg stared at me, confused as to why I was crying.
It was one hurdle we made it through, but it wasn’t the last.
Gregg left to go to bed and I stayed so they could draw more blood and test for 300 other frustrating possibilities.
Fun fact: insurance doesn’t pay for any of this.
But we did get a cute pic of baby….you know, for $2,200.
#worthit
to be continued….
