Today is Thursday…and it’s exactly 29 weeks and 3 days since two adorable little zygotes were placed back into the freshly cleaned and restored and rejuvenated organ that is my uterus.
Exactly 27 weeks and 3 days ago we got the call from FPNC that our beta blood draw results were in. I know I was miserable with anxiety waiting on that phone call. Both Josh and I had been up most of the night before because we were both so anxious to find out the results.
I’d had so many symptoms in those two weeks of waiting that now I look back and think “How could you not have known it was positive?”, but I think at that point I was SO used to negative results that I just expected it to be again. I was so set for negative that when the nurse called and said “Congratulations!” I was seriously confused as to why she was congratulating me. It took a full minute for it to sink in and for me to be able to tell Josh. Even after that, even with every-other-day blood draws to make sure the hCG levels were increasing, and even with the home preggo tests that I took just to reassure myself that it was indeed true – I still didn’t feel pregnant and it still didn’t feel real.
Even later when the symptoms that I didn’t know were symptoms started to REALLY get me…it didn’t feel real. It just felt like I was dying from some exotic flu or something. At 5 weeks the complications began…the bleeding, the threatened miscarriage, the horrible pain, the “not right” feelings. I was put on bed rest off and on. Each time I had to rest until I’d been stable for 2 weeks, and each time just before the time was near to relax, it’d happen again. It was scary, traumatic, unfortunate, and just plain bad. I’d bonded with this little being from the moment I saw that little 8-celled zygote. The not-even-human-yet being that was waiting in a sterile petri dish to be placed inside of my body to grow. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how those little clumps of cells looked – it’s an image burned so vividly into my mind that I really believe it’ll just never fade. With each time we had to rush to the ER or each time we had to run to the clinic for an ultrasound it just got more and more stressful.
Logan started moving around 15-16 weeks. Everyone kept saying “oh, it’s just your stomach growling” or “oh, it’s just gas” or “it’s your imagination”. No…no, it was him. He was moving, he was most definitely alive and moving and THERE. A few days after I felt the first movement was when the worst of the bleeding happened. There was so much blood, I felt so awful, I was terrified, Josh was terrified, and the ER was so backed up – they wanted me to just sit in the wheelchair and WAIT! Wait while I possibly was losing my baby? I really loathe that place.
Luckily my Ob/Gyn just said to come right over and we’d check things out. Thankfully during that checkup, Logan was -fine-. He was alive and kicking and his little heartbeat was just what it needed to be. Also thankfully, that was the last episode of bleeding.
Obviously, as you folks know, it wasn’t the last of the ups and downs of this pregnancy. I only had a few weeks reprieve before we discovered that I have a shortened cervix which puts me at risk for preterm labor.
We’ve done the steroid shots to strengthen his lungs…and may have to do another set depending on how I hold out…and we’ve monitored him like crazy to make sure that none of this has affected his growth. So far, he’s ahead of the curve. He’s in the 51st percentile for weight and all his measurements are spot on for his gestational age.
My doctors at FPNC, my Ob/Gyn, and the Perinatologists who have been following my case for the last several months have all each made statements along the lines of Logan being one lucky baby. I’ve been asked by friends/family how the heck I’m still pregnant after all this, how in the world I’ve managed to stave off labor so long, and how we’ve managed to, through everything, keep all the negatives from affecting the baby…
Well, we got lucky. And we chose some of the best doctors in the state (& country) to handle our care. The fertility clinic is ranked as one of the highest in the United States and their success rates are substantially higher than most others. My Ob/Gyn, while young and fairly inexperienced in high risk pregnancies, is not afraid to get 2nd or 3rd opinions and she’s been SUPER proactive through all this. The perinatologists are remarkable, fantastic, wonderful people. I’ve literally been monitored once a week or every other week since I was 5 weeks pregnant. My medications have been adjusted as they needed to be, my level of activity has been adjusted, no one’s been afraid to stick me in a hospital and tell me to put my feet up for a few weeks…and at every turn Logan has been watched.
So, you darling darling people who have asked me “how”….that’s how. The team of doctors, their nurses, the office staff, heck even the cleaning crews…they are the ones who have made this happen. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have gotten pregnant in the first place. If it wasn’t for them, I’d have miscarried at 6 weeks and that would have been the end of it. If it wasn’t for them, I’d have gone into labor before 25 weeks and we would have most likely lost Logan, or he would have been severely handicapped for his entire life. If it wasn’t for these beautiful people, Josh and I would not be where we are now…29 weeks and 3 days pregnant with a healthy little boy and eagerly anticipating his birth.
I can’t wait until Logan’s born (hopefully still many weeks from now!) and I can snuggle him up warmly and take him to meet the people who have helped us, and him, through all of this. They are most definitely my heroes.