Kicks and Clouds
Baby kicks and movement have continued at quite the rate. I feel like she's more active than your average baby, based on books and others' experiences. I hear often that at first, you'll feel your baby a lot one day and might not feel him/her again for 3 or 4 days. Not this chick. She's kicking, rolling around, and punching quite often. I feel her multiple times a day, particularly after I've eaten. I take that as a good sign.
Of course, it could also mean she'll give us a run for our money once she's actually here. I'm hoping she'll just be so active during the day that she'll exhaust herself and sleep well. Probably wishful thinking, but I might as well think wishfully. (And take liberties with the English language.)
On Saturday afternoon, she was being especially bloopy (our word for lots of movement; I'll often just call out, "Bloop!" when I've felt her move). I've been trying to get Jon to feel her for a week or two to no avail. But it happened on Saturday! It was great to get to share the feeling with him.
Because feeling her move is the most wonderful, awesome feeling. It makes the pregnancy so much more real and fun. It lets me know she's doing well (or at least lets me think that). I can imagine once it's over, I'll miss that, even though I'll have her. I'll get so used to feeling this every day, and then it'll stop. I can imagine the withdrawal that comes with the end of pregnancy will be kind of a bitch.
I'm glad I've gotten to the fun part, though. Not quite as tired as I was the last few weeks; not quite as energetic as I was prepregnancy, but better.
Our 20 week ultrasound was this week, an experience that has been described as absolutely amazing by many. We were really looking forward to it. In fact, as we walked through the halls of the hospital to the ultrasound room, we reminisced on how nervous we were for the last ultrasound 9 weeks ago. This time there was none of that. We're so much less worried.
The 20 week ultrasound takes about an hour. It's a lot of laying around while a technician pokes at your stomach. We watched the whole thing on a monitor, which was definitely rewarding. Little girl did move around a lot, which made me relived to know I'm not imagining things. I was surprised, though, at how quiet the technician was as we went along. Occasionally she would confirm that we were seeing what we thought we were if we made a remark, but she didn't always tell us what was on the screen. I was also a little surprised at how similar this ultrasound looked to the last. Someone at work recently showed me their 20 week pictures, and there was one of a very clear face. We didn't really get that on ours. Some of my favorite poses:
A thumbs up! See parents? Everything's okay in here!
This looks like a clear smile. "I know they can't actually do that," Jon said when we saw it.
"I believe they can," the technician told us. "I think she can hear us."
I guess all the necessary measurements, etc, were obtained. She told us the doctor would be in to see us shortly and left. In that time, Jon noticed a sign on the wall that said technicians aren't allowed to give any results. That's probably why she didn't say anything throughout. Although I don't think a constant flow of, "This is the spine. We're looking for x," is a result of anything.
Once the doctor came in, he wanted to look at a few things via ultrasound again. He explained that in some hospitals, they actually broadcast an ultrasound to another room so a doctor can watch it live; however, at the hospital we're using, they don't have that kind of technology.
Right away, that's not the greatest opening line. As it is, I have minor doubts about this hospital. There's another one in the area, the one I was born in, that has an amazing reputation for having children. I don't exactly doubt this one will do a good job with the birth, but it's not as well respected, so having this comment piled on didn't exactly put my mind at ease.
He went on to say he likes to look at babies' hearts live to see if they can give him more information, though looking at ours wasn't going to tell him anything the pictures and technician didn't already tell him. (Um, okay. So why even comment on that? Why not just say you're looking? It made us wonder if there was anything the pictures made him question about her heart, though he never expressed that.)
After that, things got more unsettling. The tech had had trouble locating where baby is attached to the placenta, and the doctor was pretty sure he located it. She's attached on the edge of it. That in itself isn't an inherent problem; however, often when babies don't develop well in the second half of pregnancy, it's found they were attached to the edge of the placenta. I guess they could possibly not get all the necessary nutrients.
So what does that mean? Do we have an increased chance of her being underdeveloped? Is there a percentage we can know? What would being underdeveloped even look like? Would she be able to be born and incubated and monitored until she grew, or would we completely lose her at this late point? I'm sure that's not a question that can be answered immediately, but it's lingered in my mind ever since.
Hospital doc doesn't know what my actual doctor will advise at this point. I might have to have amniocentesis, although I don't know what good that would do for this possible problem. It's not a process I'm eager to go through. I thought it was designed more for identifying genetic defects, and we've gone through several rounds of testing to ensure that wasn't a possibility. Another possibility is more ultrasounds, I guess to keep an eye on development. I wouldn't mind seeing her a few more times, but if she isn't doing well, will an ultrasound help or add more stress? I just don't know.
Further frustrating, we were told that it wasn't a big deal, but that baby girl is about five days behind development according to her due date. But five days isn't major. (Of course, when you've just told me that she may begin to have developmental problems from this point forward, it sounds major.) As the doctor was talking, I looked at the screen with my information on it. The hospital had my due date down as September 12, with BG's (baby girl) development matching up with a September 17 due date. But guess what? Her due date IS September 17!
I brought this to the doctor's attention. This was already frustrating because whenever I call the hospital to make an ultrasound appointment, I have to give them my due date. The doctor was also looking at whatever is in my folder of information; wouldn't you think my due date would be there? Doc said they're basing my due date on the date of my last period, which is absolutely absurd and inaccurate for an IVF pregnancy. That's not how IVF works. In fact, I had to take birth control, if we'll all remember, for about a week to sync my cycle up with when I was having the embryo transfer. I was asked at least three separate times that day to confirm this was an IVF pregnancy. So why did they have this information wrong? The doctor was unphased and unapologetic when I pointed this out.
I'm tired of medical professionals regularly getting me wrong. It feels like at least one piece of information per visit with any given doctor isn't right. While we're all human and all make mistakes, health is kind of an important component, and this much incompetency is disconcerting. Sorry, doctors, but it's tainted my view of you at this point. I was lucky to have a doctor for most of my life who was close with our family. He was extremely personable, and every visit was comforting as well as accurate. Since he retired, my replacements have been rather less than lackluster.
But going back to the placenta issue. We left the hospital feeling relatively fine about things, especially knowing it's going well thus far. I convinced myself it wouldn't actually end up being an issue - at least for a good hour or so. The longer that cloud was left hanging over my head, though, the darker the day got. The uncertainty is plaguing. How can we have made it this far perfectly only to be hit over the head with something that could potentially rip it all away?
I don't want to think negatively, and I keep reminding myself that everything else is fine. There really isn't a major reason to worry at this point. Send her positive energy, send her loving vibes, keep talking to her to tell her how much we love and can't wait to meet her, keep marveling at each bloop in my stomach.
But when someone new congratulates me or asks me how it's going, even though it is going well, there's a twinge of fear that rains on me. I've explained the situation to several people in person, and about 99% of them immediately exclaimed, "Why would they even tell you that?!" I can't decide if I agree, if it would be better not to know until I saw my own OB who could give me his professional opinion on it and explain accurately where we are with this. I think that might be a better option. It's ridiculous that we live in a society where the hospital assumes I'm going to sue them if something goes wrong and they didn't warn me there might be an issue immediately. Call me crazy, but that's not where I want to put my energy or time or money.
People I've told in person have been supportive. They've said doctors always tell you worst case scenarios because they have to, but it's likely everything will be fine. They've told me stories of family members who were told worse things about their pregnancies, and everything turned out perfectly.
But I made the mistake of turning to an online infertility support group last night. I know better than to alert the internet to all my problems (she said, typing away for the entire internet to see), but the group had been immensely supportive when I had the bleeding issue at six weeks. I thought I would get the same kind of encouragement or stories of experience this time. Well, not quite.
Some people told me I'd be fine. One told me the same had happened to her; she had to have weekly monitoring, but everything turned out okay in the end. One said she had the same thing happen to her recently; when she spoke to her OB, the doctor said there's not much they can do right now; they'll keep an eye on it and make decisions as they move along. That makes sense. No developmental problems yet; give it a week or two (or, I think in her case, eight) and see where things end up.
Other people, though, went into full on panic mode. You can never be too cautious. You should get another opinion. Don't wait to see your OB! Call him immediately! See an MFM (maternal-fetal medicine specialist). Did you see an MFM yet? I've had friends who've had heartbreaking results with such news. Where did you have your ultrasound? Get a new doctor if you don't trust your own!
Um, whoa there ladies. I don't even really have a first opinion yet - I just have facts. I'll try to call my OB when I can, but I don't have a job conducive to making calls to people with business hours. Honestly, I think I'm going to be told to wait, like the woman who had actual experience with the same problem. I never said I didn't trust me own doctor. I don't think you can just call a specialist one night and get an appointment for the next day. And even if you can, I don't have unlimited sick time to flit off to specialists on a whim. (Although that in itself makes me feel a different brand of anxiety; I should put BG's health first, my family is more important than my job, we can afford life if there's one day I miss of getting paid, but her life is worth more than that money I'd lose. Still, I can't deny the concerns of taking another day off.)
I know these women just want what's best for me and are looking out for me in their way. But there's a lot of gun jumping and over worrying. (Funny enough, when I typed that the first time it came out "overy worrying." I know that's not exactly how to spell it, but still. Freudian slip?) When others are worried, I feel like making them worry more isn't helpful. Honesty is admirable, but perhaps temper it with some honey. If you don't know what the situation is, don't play doctor. A gentle coaxing to see a doctor might be fine, but a paranoid insistence doesn't help anyone.
I became incredibly nervous and upset about it last night. Today I'm feeling a bit more level headed. I'm not taking the unnecessary advice to heart. I'm going to try to call my OB later.
I'm going to try to focus on the kicks more than the clouds. Put up an umbrella to keep the rain at bay. Do what I can and try not to worry about the rest.
And if I need to, I'll keep looking at that picture of her giving us a thumbs up.
Thumbs up. Everything's fine.
Of course, it could also mean she'll give us a run for our money once she's actually here. I'm hoping she'll just be so active during the day that she'll exhaust herself and sleep well. Probably wishful thinking, but I might as well think wishfully. (And take liberties with the English language.)
On Saturday afternoon, she was being especially bloopy (our word for lots of movement; I'll often just call out, "Bloop!" when I've felt her move). I've been trying to get Jon to feel her for a week or two to no avail. But it happened on Saturday! It was great to get to share the feeling with him.
Because feeling her move is the most wonderful, awesome feeling. It makes the pregnancy so much more real and fun. It lets me know she's doing well (or at least lets me think that). I can imagine once it's over, I'll miss that, even though I'll have her. I'll get so used to feeling this every day, and then it'll stop. I can imagine the withdrawal that comes with the end of pregnancy will be kind of a bitch.
I'm glad I've gotten to the fun part, though. Not quite as tired as I was the last few weeks; not quite as energetic as I was prepregnancy, but better.
Our 20 week ultrasound was this week, an experience that has been described as absolutely amazing by many. We were really looking forward to it. In fact, as we walked through the halls of the hospital to the ultrasound room, we reminisced on how nervous we were for the last ultrasound 9 weeks ago. This time there was none of that. We're so much less worried.
The 20 week ultrasound takes about an hour. It's a lot of laying around while a technician pokes at your stomach. We watched the whole thing on a monitor, which was definitely rewarding. Little girl did move around a lot, which made me relived to know I'm not imagining things. I was surprised, though, at how quiet the technician was as we went along. Occasionally she would confirm that we were seeing what we thought we were if we made a remark, but she didn't always tell us what was on the screen. I was also a little surprised at how similar this ultrasound looked to the last. Someone at work recently showed me their 20 week pictures, and there was one of a very clear face. We didn't really get that on ours. Some of my favorite poses:
A thumbs up! See parents? Everything's okay in here!
This looks like a clear smile. "I know they can't actually do that," Jon said when we saw it.
"I believe they can," the technician told us. "I think she can hear us."
I guess all the necessary measurements, etc, were obtained. She told us the doctor would be in to see us shortly and left. In that time, Jon noticed a sign on the wall that said technicians aren't allowed to give any results. That's probably why she didn't say anything throughout. Although I don't think a constant flow of, "This is the spine. We're looking for x," is a result of anything.
Once the doctor came in, he wanted to look at a few things via ultrasound again. He explained that in some hospitals, they actually broadcast an ultrasound to another room so a doctor can watch it live; however, at the hospital we're using, they don't have that kind of technology.
Right away, that's not the greatest opening line. As it is, I have minor doubts about this hospital. There's another one in the area, the one I was born in, that has an amazing reputation for having children. I don't exactly doubt this one will do a good job with the birth, but it's not as well respected, so having this comment piled on didn't exactly put my mind at ease.
He went on to say he likes to look at babies' hearts live to see if they can give him more information, though looking at ours wasn't going to tell him anything the pictures and technician didn't already tell him. (Um, okay. So why even comment on that? Why not just say you're looking? It made us wonder if there was anything the pictures made him question about her heart, though he never expressed that.)
After that, things got more unsettling. The tech had had trouble locating where baby is attached to the placenta, and the doctor was pretty sure he located it. She's attached on the edge of it. That in itself isn't an inherent problem; however, often when babies don't develop well in the second half of pregnancy, it's found they were attached to the edge of the placenta. I guess they could possibly not get all the necessary nutrients.
So what does that mean? Do we have an increased chance of her being underdeveloped? Is there a percentage we can know? What would being underdeveloped even look like? Would she be able to be born and incubated and monitored until she grew, or would we completely lose her at this late point? I'm sure that's not a question that can be answered immediately, but it's lingered in my mind ever since.
Hospital doc doesn't know what my actual doctor will advise at this point. I might have to have amniocentesis, although I don't know what good that would do for this possible problem. It's not a process I'm eager to go through. I thought it was designed more for identifying genetic defects, and we've gone through several rounds of testing to ensure that wasn't a possibility. Another possibility is more ultrasounds, I guess to keep an eye on development. I wouldn't mind seeing her a few more times, but if she isn't doing well, will an ultrasound help or add more stress? I just don't know.
Further frustrating, we were told that it wasn't a big deal, but that baby girl is about five days behind development according to her due date. But five days isn't major. (Of course, when you've just told me that she may begin to have developmental problems from this point forward, it sounds major.) As the doctor was talking, I looked at the screen with my information on it. The hospital had my due date down as September 12, with BG's (baby girl) development matching up with a September 17 due date. But guess what? Her due date IS September 17!
I brought this to the doctor's attention. This was already frustrating because whenever I call the hospital to make an ultrasound appointment, I have to give them my due date. The doctor was also looking at whatever is in my folder of information; wouldn't you think my due date would be there? Doc said they're basing my due date on the date of my last period, which is absolutely absurd and inaccurate for an IVF pregnancy. That's not how IVF works. In fact, I had to take birth control, if we'll all remember, for about a week to sync my cycle up with when I was having the embryo transfer. I was asked at least three separate times that day to confirm this was an IVF pregnancy. So why did they have this information wrong? The doctor was unphased and unapologetic when I pointed this out.
I'm tired of medical professionals regularly getting me wrong. It feels like at least one piece of information per visit with any given doctor isn't right. While we're all human and all make mistakes, health is kind of an important component, and this much incompetency is disconcerting. Sorry, doctors, but it's tainted my view of you at this point. I was lucky to have a doctor for most of my life who was close with our family. He was extremely personable, and every visit was comforting as well as accurate. Since he retired, my replacements have been rather less than lackluster.
But going back to the placenta issue. We left the hospital feeling relatively fine about things, especially knowing it's going well thus far. I convinced myself it wouldn't actually end up being an issue - at least for a good hour or so. The longer that cloud was left hanging over my head, though, the darker the day got. The uncertainty is plaguing. How can we have made it this far perfectly only to be hit over the head with something that could potentially rip it all away?
I don't want to think negatively, and I keep reminding myself that everything else is fine. There really isn't a major reason to worry at this point. Send her positive energy, send her loving vibes, keep talking to her to tell her how much we love and can't wait to meet her, keep marveling at each bloop in my stomach.
But when someone new congratulates me or asks me how it's going, even though it is going well, there's a twinge of fear that rains on me. I've explained the situation to several people in person, and about 99% of them immediately exclaimed, "Why would they even tell you that?!" I can't decide if I agree, if it would be better not to know until I saw my own OB who could give me his professional opinion on it and explain accurately where we are with this. I think that might be a better option. It's ridiculous that we live in a society where the hospital assumes I'm going to sue them if something goes wrong and they didn't warn me there might be an issue immediately. Call me crazy, but that's not where I want to put my energy or time or money.
People I've told in person have been supportive. They've said doctors always tell you worst case scenarios because they have to, but it's likely everything will be fine. They've told me stories of family members who were told worse things about their pregnancies, and everything turned out perfectly.
But I made the mistake of turning to an online infertility support group last night. I know better than to alert the internet to all my problems (she said, typing away for the entire internet to see), but the group had been immensely supportive when I had the bleeding issue at six weeks. I thought I would get the same kind of encouragement or stories of experience this time. Well, not quite.
Some people told me I'd be fine. One told me the same had happened to her; she had to have weekly monitoring, but everything turned out okay in the end. One said she had the same thing happen to her recently; when she spoke to her OB, the doctor said there's not much they can do right now; they'll keep an eye on it and make decisions as they move along. That makes sense. No developmental problems yet; give it a week or two (or, I think in her case, eight) and see where things end up.
Other people, though, went into full on panic mode. You can never be too cautious. You should get another opinion. Don't wait to see your OB! Call him immediately! See an MFM (maternal-fetal medicine specialist). Did you see an MFM yet? I've had friends who've had heartbreaking results with such news. Where did you have your ultrasound? Get a new doctor if you don't trust your own!
Um, whoa there ladies. I don't even really have a first opinion yet - I just have facts. I'll try to call my OB when I can, but I don't have a job conducive to making calls to people with business hours. Honestly, I think I'm going to be told to wait, like the woman who had actual experience with the same problem. I never said I didn't trust me own doctor. I don't think you can just call a specialist one night and get an appointment for the next day. And even if you can, I don't have unlimited sick time to flit off to specialists on a whim. (Although that in itself makes me feel a different brand of anxiety; I should put BG's health first, my family is more important than my job, we can afford life if there's one day I miss of getting paid, but her life is worth more than that money I'd lose. Still, I can't deny the concerns of taking another day off.)
I know these women just want what's best for me and are looking out for me in their way. But there's a lot of gun jumping and over worrying. (Funny enough, when I typed that the first time it came out "overy worrying." I know that's not exactly how to spell it, but still. Freudian slip?) When others are worried, I feel like making them worry more isn't helpful. Honesty is admirable, but perhaps temper it with some honey. If you don't know what the situation is, don't play doctor. A gentle coaxing to see a doctor might be fine, but a paranoid insistence doesn't help anyone.
I became incredibly nervous and upset about it last night. Today I'm feeling a bit more level headed. I'm not taking the unnecessary advice to heart. I'm going to try to call my OB later.
I'm going to try to focus on the kicks more than the clouds. Put up an umbrella to keep the rain at bay. Do what I can and try not to worry about the rest.
And if I need to, I'll keep looking at that picture of her giving us a thumbs up.
Thumbs up. Everything's fine.
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