Ok, so as soon as I thought I was in the safezone and finally let down the guard I'd been holding on to since my first pregnancy ended in heartache, my fears revisited me and reminded me that nothing is guaranteed.
During week 19, I started feeling more legitimate kicks, which was fantastic. However, I then started feeling some pain and a heaviness with tightening in my abdomen. This would happen off and on throughout the evening, but it would always stop, so I wasn't too worried. It continued to follow this pattern for a few days, so when my next perinatologist appointment came up a few days later, I mentioned it. Dr. Adam did the ultrasound, and she said all my testing from my last ultrasound came back totally normal. Then she dropped a couple of bombs. She told us I was having contractions, which explained the discomfort of late, and that they were progressing me. I was effacing, which isn't ideal at that stage of pregnancy. She gave me some advice about keeping super hydrated, lying on my left side as much as possible, taking frequent breaks during everyday activities (just being on my feet in general), destressing, etc. She told me if I started having menstrual-syndrome-like symptoms to call my OB immediately. So, that was shock number one.
But a solo shock is boring, right? So then she tells us our baby has a cyst in its brain. WHAT?! Seriously, folks. That just sounds frightening, doesn't it? She then proceeded to point out a giant black spot taking up a chunk of our baby's precious little brain. For Heaven's sake! She said it's not very rare, and they will monitor it, and hopefully it will resolve itself within the next 10 weeks or so, as they often do. If not, however, we'll talk about it then. She informed us that a lot of people actually have these cysts and lead normal lives, and the cysts are not associated with mental or psychological problems in themselves, but there does appear to be a correlation between Down Syndrome and the presence of such cysts. So, she wanted another test done just to make sure my original normal genetic-testing results still stood. Basically we left the ultrasound feeling emotionally exhausted and a little freaked out.
But we also left with pictures! Unfortunately, though, they were a little disappointing. This is largely because of our choice to keep the sex a mystery. The tech was super paranoid about getting anything in the pic that might clue us in to the baby's girl or boy parts. You'd think a head shot would suffice, but perhaps she didn't want us to be reminded of the black-hole-looking spot in our little one's head. I dunno. In the end, we got toes and a heartbeat shot with the readout. We'll take what we can get!
Toes:
Heartbeat:
So, I decided to take a break from exercising for a little while and do as much resting as possible. But since Jon is still able bodied, there's no reason he can't do a few things around here. And so he did. Thanks, sweetie!
Nestle helping assemble the crib:
So Jon didn't get his original way about finding out the sex, but he'll still find any way he can to plan and prepare (classic engineer behavior)! As evidence, I submit this pic of him putting together the baby's crib, which he made sure we ordered way ahead of schedule, earlier than most couples would:
My belly and me with the finished crib (in the not-so-finished nursery) week 19:
The day of crib completion, Jon also felt a little kick for the first time. Neat-o! See, Jon? I'm not just fat, and the doctors aren't just part of a conspiracy to excuse my expanding waistline! Of course, I could have used the past few months to train my muscles to spasm in a kick-like manner. But I didn't. Promise. Anyway, I'm glad he has another way to participate in the fun. It really does feel from the inside what it feels like from the outside -- a little person kicking!
At the end of week 19, I did have a giant contraction; we could actually see my muscles harden against the baby ... oh brother. The next week, I started feeling serious kicks, which Jon got his own kick out of (hardy har har). Unfortunately, the end of week 20 brought some scary uterine activity, too. Jon was out bayfishing, and I started having significant-feeling contractions, with radiating tightening and pressure and some pain. I had five in 45 minutes, and I called my OB. She was out of town, so another doc called me back. Though she meant well in her brutal honesty, she completely crushed me with her words. She told me that there wasn't much to be done other than drink water and lie down, and that at this gestation, my baby wasn't viable. She said if labor ensued, the best they could do was get me to the hospital and give me meds to ease my pain, but since I was not far enough along, it would just be considered a late miscarriage. She said to call back if the contractions got closer.
So, in a panic, I called Jon. He was on his way home and did his best to calmly comfort me. Then I called my mom, who prayed with me as I cried on my bathroom floor. I talked to the baby and tried to calm down while my mom then called my grandma to have her pray for us, as well (my mom's mom is a superprayer, by the way!). After that, I focused on mellowing out, and by the end of that night, our prayers were answered, and my body stilled.
Belly week 20:
Ok, so among all the mess, let's not forget Jon's bayfishing ... nice fish!
But I didn't imagine my body could still too much! Week 21, I had an appointment with my OB (who said she's sorry she wasn't the one to talk to me during my scare), and she told me to call if my contractions got harder, longer, closer and if they didn't stop. She also told me to call if the baby wasn't moving as much. She knew I'm one of those people who doesn't like to freak out over everything and call and call. I understand why people do that completely, but I just didn't want to spend my pregnancy, which had been so great, that way.
However, a few days later, I woke up after not feeling the baby move all night. Then the baby didn't move all day. At 4:30 p.m., I finally called, and the nurse I spoke with told me to go to the hospital immediately, that she was calling ahead, and this was not good. More panic! Too freaked out to drive myself downtown to the med center in rain and traffic, my dear friend Sabrina drove me there, prayed with me and stayed with me during the appointment for better or worse. Thankfully, it was better. After much searching, the nurse found the heartbeat -- the baby had turned in a way that made for a real game of hide and seek. Whew! I need a break from this drama!
Belly week 21:
Week 22, we went to Lake Fork, but I just relaxed instead of doing the usual fishing. This time, obviously, my time in the RV with Jon's parents was much lighter of spirit! I'm not sure why I can't find Lake Fork pics, but let's take advantage of that and say Jon caught massive, massive bass. Just too bad I can't prove it with the pics. Better luck next time. At least I have belly pics!
Toe check week 22 (still there!):
Toe check week 21:
So contractions became a way of life, but I learned how to handle them, and they never turned into spontaneous labor. I also never had another no-movement scare. This baby likes to boogie!
Week 22, we went to Lake Fork, but I just relaxed instead of doing the usual fishing. This time, obviously, my time in the RV with Jon's parents was much lighter of spirit! I'm not sure why I can't find Lake Fork pics, but let's take advantage of that and say Jon caught massive, massive bass. Just too bad I can't prove it with the pics. Better luck next time. At least I have belly pics!
Belly week 22:
Toe check week 22 (still there!):
Ok, so I think I can say I'm ready to move on to calmer waters! I'm optimistic for next month -- bring it!
