20 Weeks

Well, folks, we are halfway there. We have made it through 50% of this pregnancy. This was the time during the last pregnancy where it started to feel real; where I started realizing there were only 4.5 months left in the journey. But of course, that time, there were actually only two more weeks left in the journey...

I mentioned to my doctor at one of my past appointments that I had been feeling so depressed the weekend before that I couldn't even get out of bed. I asked if he thought it was just because we were getting closer to the doomed gestational age. He said yes, and that once we passed 20 weeks, we'd begin to feel better. Our last appointment showed that everything that came back abnormal on this round of tests during the last pregnancy, came back just fine on this one. He said, "I really think that's what the problem was last time. You guys can start to breathe a little now." He was wrong.

I am not breathing easier. I am terrified. Completely and legitimately terrified. And not just about losing the baby. I'm scared for my life. There was no warning last time. Nothing to clue me in that something was wrong with me. I could tell something was wrong with the baby - she wasn't moving. But, I, myself, felt totally fine. And then, I suddenly didn't, and it was a cascade of events from there. So, while I am hyper aware this time of every symptom, every cramp, every headache, and every little flutter from within, I'm still 100% terrified. I don't think there will be any getting around that. The wait between each appointment will continue to be agony until I get confirmation that everything is (still) fine. I have my little blood pressure monitor that I check every time I get a little nervous, but it doesn't help much. I'm not a doctor. It's a store-bought monitor, handed down to me by my mom. It could be inaccurate. Let's hope it's not, because so far, it's been pretty perfect.

Now that the baby is moving, it does feel more real. But, I also thought it would calm me down a bit once this point was reached. This time, I was wrong. Yes, there are times when those little kicks and flutters make me feel better and reassure me that everything is going as it should. But, then there are those times in between. Those times when I wonder if the baby's kicking enough. Is s/he kicking too much (because remember, our girl kicked A LOT the day before she passed. Something I now know is a sign of distress)? I will never fully enjoy this pregnancy. We have twenty more weeks of anxiety and stress and fear.

On top of all of that, I don't feel like we're mentally in the same place we were last time either, and that kills me. Yes, I was scared last time. Especially those first few days. But, I'd wanted this all my life. And it was finally happening for me. I was scared but excited to finally begin my journey to motherhood. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd be a good mother, a capable mother, a stable mother. And now. Now I don't know how I'll do it. I'm seeing a therapist and I like her a lot, but we haven't talked much about the pregnancy yet. There's too much other stuff going on. My job is in jeopardy. I haven't spoken to my father in months. We have a house now and a slew of financial responsibility that comes with that (plus the medical bills that WON'T STOP COMING). And on top of that, I was not healed enough before I got pregnant again. Because I believed another pregnancy would heal me. How stupid of me.

I see so many women posting things saying that their child saved their life, and I love that. That's wonderful. I'm happy for those women. But, I never wanted to be one. I don't want my baby to have to save me. I want to be emotionally well enough that I can provide what that baby needs, from all aspects. It's not the baby's job to fix whatever is broken in me. But, maybe I need to accept now that something will always be broken in me from now on. There's no amount of talking or writing or medication or crying that can make this better. This part of our story will always be the same, and it will always hurt. And yes, perhaps this new baby will fill some part of my shattered little heart, but I still want to feel emotionally capable of being a mother. Some days, I feel legitimately crazy; like I'm losing my mind, and that the smallest thing will push me over the edge. And it's a weird feeling for me, because I've always prided myself on my strength and my endurance, and my ability to "get shit done." And I'm just not that person anymore. Now that I need to be more than ever, I'm not.

Honestly, it's hard to tell how much of this is normal pregnancy hormones and how much of this is because of last year's trauma. I don't know. I've never had a "normal" pregnancy. And I never will. So, I blame it on the loss, and I blame it on the guilt, and I blame it on the heartbreak, but maybe I actually am normal after all. All I know at this point is that I still have a lot of healing to do, and a shit load of things to get together in the next four months, and I 100% lack the motivation to do it. But, as always, we'll get there. And we'll be fine. So, I tell myself.

Cheesing with my 20-week belly for the camera.
Somehow, I think I'm still hiding it at work?
Only one person has called me out so far, but they could all just be
afraid to ask. What do you think?

17 weeks, 2 days

Not much to update this week, which is a good thing. We are still on track, still measuring where we should. Everything is looking great. But, there's always that voice in the back of my head saying, "everything looked great last time too." As soon as I got comfortable was when everything started falling apart. So, I will never enjoy a pregnancy (not that I understand how anyone could, but you get my point). There will always be that nagging fear that it could all go south in a second.

That being said, I've had two appointments since my last update. One was scheduled, one was an "emergency." And by emergency, I mean, me being paranoid and needing some peace of mind. It ended up being nothing, but I'm glad I went anyway.

Two weekends ago, I remember feeling "weird." I didn't know how else to explain it, and that's exactly what I said to the nurse when I called. I would have chalked it up to normal pregnancy weirdness, but I remember saying the exact same thing to my mom during my last pregnancy: "I just feel weird. I can't describe it." And, maybe that one was normal pregnancy weirdness too, but it was familiar enough for me to take notice this time. Coupled with me waking myself up snoring the next day, a headache I couldn't shake all day, and the fact that I was too depressed to get out of bed a few days prior (all signs of pre-eclampsia), I was worried. I immediately checked my blood pressure when I woke up, and it was perfect. I checked it again after getting out of the shower, and it was still perfect. But, again, it was perfect last time too -- until it really, really wasn't.

I am lucky enough to have a doctor who has evening hours once a week. And I was even luckier to land one that very night. I love my doctor. He saw on my file that I'd had a headache all day and immediately started asking questions. I told him timidly, "I know it's probably too early to be something, but I just felt weird." He said, "I hear you. I understand. Not a problem." Those words "I hear you" mean more than anything when you're a high risk loss mama. They validate your feelings and make you feel less crazy for being worried. He asked if I'd had any swelling: no. He asked where the headache was: front of my head, "maybe a sinus headache?" He asked if there were any vision changes: no. All the check boxes were no. He then checked the baby's heartbeat and it was nice and strong. What a lovely sound. I'm not the type of person who cries at her OB appointments, but that one was a good sound. That one made me smile and breathe a little better.

After checking the heartbeat, he checked my sinuses. The headache wasn't that. "So, you think it's just a normal pregnancy headache?" Probably. It's been so friggin' hot here, and I was probably just dehydrated; I had considered that as well. I then asked him some other questions, letting him know that I was well aware they were probably nothing, but I wanted to tell him in case they were something. Again, he was all about it. I asked about my back pain. Obviously, back pain is normal in pregnancy, but this was very specific pain, and the exact same pain I felt during my last pregnancy. I know every pregnancy is different, but how do you not compare? He asked if it was in the middle of my lower back. I said no. The lower right side, and sometimes shoots down my hip and upper thigh. Sciatica. Ugh. I remember feeling like an old lady at like 8 weeks during my first pregnancy because of this pain. Thankfully, I was given several more weeks before it kicked in this time, but how annoying. It makes me feel like I waddle already when I'm barely even showing yet. It's gonna be a long five months.

I then asked him about the depression that kept me in bed all day the weekend before. One of the signs of pre-eclampsia is a sense of impending doom, which I thought was interesting, because I had that my entire first pregnancy. Like, the whole time. Not kidding. This time, it wasn't so much impending doom as it was just a deep depression. I didn't want to get out of bed. I tried. I had a laundry list of things I wanted to accomplish that day. I even kicked Ben out of the house so he wouldn't distract me. I got exactly one thing done, and went back to sleep. It's been a long time since I've been in such a dark place. I chalked it up to Ben having people over twice in three weeks and being exhausted from that. But, the doctor agreed that it's probably because we're getting closer to the gestational age that we lost our first baby. He said once we get past 20 weeks, I'll probably start to breathe a little easier (I kindly reminded him, I was at 22 weeks last time, so it'll probably take a little longer).

After that, he told me we were doing a blood test. I always forget the names of these tests, but it's one that tests the baby for spina bifida and other things. This is the test that showed something was wrong last time. This was the one that changed the entire course of my pregnancy. My MFM had suggested that it was not needed, because regardless of the results, we were going to continue treating me the same way. When my OB originally saw that on the write-up, he said "well, I disagree, but okay." I think since I was in there so worried this time, he decided we needed to do it. I asked if this was the same test, and he said yes. He said, "I'm really surprised he put that on there, especially because this was the same one from last time. I want to know. And if you're okay with it, then we're doing it." I love a doctor who tells me what I need, instead of one who leaves it up to me. Because, look, I'm tired of needles. If you leave it up to me, I'll tell you no. Leave my blood where it is. Please stop hurting me. But, he was right. This was an important one. And regardless of whether or not my treatment would change, it's still good to know.

The results came back clear. Again, breathing gets a little easier.

Yesterday, we had another ultrasound. They are every four weeks, since I'm high risk, and I could not be more grateful for that. That was one of my biggest complaints in my last pregnancy. I wanted more ultrasounds. I hated that something could be wrong and I wouldn't know for weeks or months. So, while the circumstances suck, I am very, very grateful for the extra ultrasounds. We got to see our little munchkin moving around. The ultrasound tech confirmed gender, we watched baby kick their legs and punch their arms, move their fingers. We saw the chambers of the heart and the brain. What a beautiful sight. They then measured my cervix, which wasn't done the last time. This is done now to check to make sure there were no lasting effects from the D&E. Everything looks great. Everything is measuring on track. We are closer to bringing this baby home, and I'm getting more comfortable with the idea that we'll actually get to.

Next OB appointment is Monday. I don't expect anything to change, but it's always good to have the reassurance. What a crazy process.