It was on a Monday (October 11, 2011 to be exact) that they fertilized a cute lil egg with a cute lil sperm (we’re just gonna assume they did indeed use MY eggs and Josh’s sperm…but neither of us cares all that much, to be honest!) and created a cute lil zygote that has grown now, 34 weeks later, into a cute lil fetus whose name upon his birth will be Logan Joshua Anderson. How COOL is -that-!
At any rate, what that means is that Mondays are my “change” days. Each Monday that passes brings me closer to my due date and Logan closer to being full term. I love Mondays. I love waking up and knowing that I’m another week pregnant, that after all the difficulties and hoping and dreaming and waiting and even some praying and DEFINITELY some financial output…we’re going to be PARENTS. Like honest-to-goodness, responsible-for-someone’s-life PARENTS. Now that’s some freaky stuff there.
There are moments when we both feel overwhelmed. There are moments when we feel terrified. There’s a lot of moments when we feel like we may not have thought this little endeavor through entirely. There’s never a moment when we regret our decisions, though, and -every- moment we are truly and awesomely thankful that Logan is on his way.
My husband is going to be an amazing father. Obviously I believed this to begin with, or I’d never even considered having a child with him, but it’s so amazingly reassuring and just makes me love him even more every time he does something to remind me just how wonderful he’s going to be. Sometimes he’ll pass by me and just touch my belly, sometimes he’ll stop and have a little chat with Logan, and he always asks how we’re both doing. He calls him by his name and he is genuinely and honestly interested in every part of his development. I just can’t believe how amazingly lucky I am to have him in my life. I’ve talked to many women whose husbands/significant others are just not as supportive and who don’t get attached to the child until well after delivery and I say a little thank you every time Josh proves to NOT be like that. He just rocks, on so many levels.
Annnnyway. I’m writing this 12 hours before the exact 34 week moment (fertilization was at 11:30pm on 10/11/11) and feeling awesomely loved and incredibly pregnant. I’m also feeling a strange sense of accomplishment combined with a weird sense of anxiety that is just creating an overly stressful type situation in my brain.
34 weeks…34 weeks is the “greater than 98%” survivability point according to the March of Dimes. 34 weeks is where they stop giving higher percentages. Not even a 40 week baby gets anything higher than “greater than 98%” because no baby has a 100% chance of survival. It all depends on so many factors that no one can possibly predict to 100% accuracy at which point a child is absolutely free from all dangers. We didn’t think we’d make it to 26 weeks. Then we didn’t feel like 28 would happen. 30, according to the doctors, was a “miracle”. 32? Wow. And now…34? Really?
I’m 3 centimeters dilated, 80% effaced, and Logan’s at -1 station. He can only get to -3 before he’s crowning and ready to greet the world. But that stubborn little boy has stayed in that position for a full 7 days now, despite horrendous contractions that push down on him almost all day every day. My cervix, bless its little self, has refused to dilate any further this week. By the hardest, by some weird chance, my body that everyone thought was going to fail miserably at carrying this baby to viability has done that and then some. I feel like Josh and I have won the lottery.
Now, lets see if we can make it to 36!