Friday, May 15, 2009
It's a GIRL!!
A beautiful, little girl. We got our ultrasound done a few days ago at the Prenatal Experience ( theprenatalexperience.com). My friend Sabrina owns the place and we had such a great time. She has a huge leather sectional couch that my entourage was able to lounge on, get comfortable and watch our baby on the big projection screen. Peter and I have no family in town, but we brought some friends. My best friend Molly, my god daughter Ella, her sister Ava, their cousin Mackensie and Ava and Ella’s mom, Christina all came with us to find out the sex. Ella is 2 ½ and Ava and Mackensie are 3 and ½; it was so fun having them there and seeing their reactions. Sabrina had me lie on the table and pull my shirt up. She told me that she confirms the sex to herself three times before announcing it to the room. Finally, the picture of our baby came up on the screen! It was such an awesome moment. Peter told me later that he teared up when she first appeared (he also said; thankfully nobody noticed-such a guy). I watched with half dazed smile, it was so neat to be able to look at my baby and see what she is doing inside. After just a few minutes, Sabrina was able to announce that it was in fact a she! Everyone clapped and Peter gave me a big kiss. I was so happy; I really wanted a girl first! Peter had mentally prepared himself for a boy, so it took him a moment to wrap his head around being a father to a little girl, and he is very excited now-once he realized that little girls can fish too. We continued to watch her for several more minutes and it was just so cool. She was sucking her thumb, playing with her umbilical cord, kicking and stretching all over the place. I kept saying “look, how cute she is!” It was such a relief to know that I am having a girl and to see her sweet face. And now I can finally start planning and decorating!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
1 in 4
I thought I was done with the throwing up part. I mean, I am in my second trimester now all the books and online resources say that “most women start feel better around the 10-12 week.” Usually there is always the pre-cautionary disclaimer of “but some unlucky women feel sick their entire pregnancy.” Awesome. I am actually feeling a lot better. I no longer feel like I want to die or think that I am about to die. I am still tired but it’s now safe for me to drive without fear of falling asleep at the wheel because I just can’t seem to manage to keep my eyes open. So my throwing up took me by surprise. I honestly think it was mostly due to the awful day I had. Early in the day I found out that a friend of mine that I have known since middle school, who was exactly one week ahead of me in her pregnancy, lost her baby.
It happened last week, when she was 15 weeks, just where I am. Two other of our friends from middle and high school are also pregnant, all of us due within a week of each other. We were so excited to be pregnant together, we had already planned a Fall prego girls weekend, where we would do belly casts together and take lots of pictures. When I first found out we were all pregnant, the statistic of 1 in 4 women suffering a miscarriage flashed through my mind. I cried to Peter that night, saying one of us is not going to make it if that statistic is true. He went on to try and explain a complicated statistical formula of why it wouldn’t apply to us (he’s an engineer). But I had a bad feeling. When we all heard heartbeats and got to 12 weeks, we celebrated and I thought all was well. And then we heard from Kelly. Of course I cried, and all day I was upset and finally at the end of the day my body was so stressed from being upset and crying that I threw up. Immediately after I found out about Kelly, I called the Birth Cottage and asked if they could fit me in to hear my baby’s heartbeat. I wanted reassurance that my baby was ok and I could not wait till my next week’s appointment. When I heard my baby’s heartbeat it made me cry again. Diana, the other midwife I see at the Birth Cottage, said the heartbeat was perfect and strong. When I finally got the courage to call Kelly and send my love, she was doing fine. She and her husband have a strong faith and know that everything happens on God’s timing.
It happened last week, when she was 15 weeks, just where I am. Two other of our friends from middle and high school are also pregnant, all of us due within a week of each other. We were so excited to be pregnant together, we had already planned a Fall prego girls weekend, where we would do belly casts together and take lots of pictures. When I first found out we were all pregnant, the statistic of 1 in 4 women suffering a miscarriage flashed through my mind. I cried to Peter that night, saying one of us is not going to make it if that statistic is true. He went on to try and explain a complicated statistical formula of why it wouldn’t apply to us (he’s an engineer). But I had a bad feeling. When we all heard heartbeats and got to 12 weeks, we celebrated and I thought all was well. And then we heard from Kelly. Of course I cried, and all day I was upset and finally at the end of the day my body was so stressed from being upset and crying that I threw up. Immediately after I found out about Kelly, I called the Birth Cottage and asked if they could fit me in to hear my baby’s heartbeat. I wanted reassurance that my baby was ok and I could not wait till my next week’s appointment. When I heard my baby’s heartbeat it made me cry again. Diana, the other midwife I see at the Birth Cottage, said the heartbeat was perfect and strong. When I finally got the courage to call Kelly and send my love, she was doing fine. She and her husband have a strong faith and know that everything happens on God’s timing.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
First Appointment-11 weeks
Peter and I went to our first prenatal visit the other week. I had been excited about it all week -- My first official prenatal visit as an actual pregnant woman! The morning of, I woke up full of jitters and as the morning wore on I just couldn’t wait to get to my appointment. Even though I have taken, oh, 35 pregnancy tests in the past weeks, I really, really wanted to hear the heartbeat.
By the time I actually showed up to the Birth Cottage (www.thebirthcottage.com) -- 15 minutes early, of course -- I was a nervous wreck, sweating heavily and pacing like an idiot. When Peter finally arrived -- 15 minutes late, of course -- we were seated in our room the midwife, Layla, we had tons of paperwork and questions to go over. I impatiently answered the questions, thinking only of the doppler and wondering when the heck she was going to ask me to sit on the table!
Finally it was time. I sat on the table and leaned back; she pulled up my dress and pushed down my panties a bit. She was just about to put the gel on my belly when I hollered “Wait! We need to pray first!!” Layla obliged and stepped outside for a minute so we could pray. I called down Mother Mary, Jesus and every other saint I could think of that would protect the room and help make sure the doppler was working properly and it was a clear channel to hear our baby. I prayed that baby would move into whatever position she needed to be in so we could hear the heartbeat well. And I prayed please dear God let there be a heartbeat, please dear God let everything be OK.
A knock at the door and Layla was ready to come back in. I was ready now. The gel went on cold and then the doppler touched my belly. She warned the baby is only about two inches big with a heart about the size of the tip of your pinky, so it could take a little bit to find it. I am not sure how many seconds passed or how hard I was squeezing Peter’s hand when she found it. I froze. Was that really it? Or was it just my heartbeat she found? I was afraid to look at her face at first; worried it would give me some sort of signal that she was worrying about something. But I peered up and caught her eye, and she nodded and smiled.
Then I unraveled. I sobbed and sobbed. I sobbed so hard she had to remove the doppler because my belly was moving so much from me crying. I kept saying thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus. Then I looked up at Peter. He had just a little tear in his eye and he looked happy. I was surprised to see him look so relieved, too. He has been calm and cool this whole time, always responding to my worries and fears by saying this is our baby; I know it is going to stick but he needed to hear the heartbeat, too.
Once I calmed down and stopped crying she put the doppler back on to see how fast the heartbeat was. It was 160; apparently that is a girl heartbeat! I had an overwhelming feeling it was a girl before this appointment and that just sealed the deal for me. Poor Peter is still holding out for a boy. I left that appointment on cloud nine. It was the feeling I had been waiting for, for the last 8 weeks. I felt euphoric the day I found out I was pregnant and then for the next 8 weeks I worried. Because I worried so much that this baby was going to leave me I did not allow myself to get too excited or be too happy. But not now. Now I am over the moon. I am really pregnant now.
By the time I actually showed up to the Birth Cottage (www.thebirthcottage.com) -- 15 minutes early, of course -- I was a nervous wreck, sweating heavily and pacing like an idiot. When Peter finally arrived -- 15 minutes late, of course -- we were seated in our room the midwife, Layla, we had tons of paperwork and questions to go over. I impatiently answered the questions, thinking only of the doppler and wondering when the heck she was going to ask me to sit on the table!
Finally it was time. I sat on the table and leaned back; she pulled up my dress and pushed down my panties a bit. She was just about to put the gel on my belly when I hollered “Wait! We need to pray first!!” Layla obliged and stepped outside for a minute so we could pray. I called down Mother Mary, Jesus and every other saint I could think of that would protect the room and help make sure the doppler was working properly and it was a clear channel to hear our baby. I prayed that baby would move into whatever position she needed to be in so we could hear the heartbeat well. And I prayed please dear God let there be a heartbeat, please dear God let everything be OK.
A knock at the door and Layla was ready to come back in. I was ready now. The gel went on cold and then the doppler touched my belly. She warned the baby is only about two inches big with a heart about the size of the tip of your pinky, so it could take a little bit to find it. I am not sure how many seconds passed or how hard I was squeezing Peter’s hand when she found it. I froze. Was that really it? Or was it just my heartbeat she found? I was afraid to look at her face at first; worried it would give me some sort of signal that she was worrying about something. But I peered up and caught her eye, and she nodded and smiled.
Then I unraveled. I sobbed and sobbed. I sobbed so hard she had to remove the doppler because my belly was moving so much from me crying. I kept saying thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus. Then I looked up at Peter. He had just a little tear in his eye and he looked happy. I was surprised to see him look so relieved, too. He has been calm and cool this whole time, always responding to my worries and fears by saying this is our baby; I know it is going to stick but he needed to hear the heartbeat, too.
Once I calmed down and stopped crying she put the doppler back on to see how fast the heartbeat was. It was 160; apparently that is a girl heartbeat! I had an overwhelming feeling it was a girl before this appointment and that just sealed the deal for me. Poor Peter is still holding out for a boy. I left that appointment on cloud nine. It was the feeling I had been waiting for, for the last 8 weeks. I felt euphoric the day I found out I was pregnant and then for the next 8 weeks I worried. Because I worried so much that this baby was going to leave me I did not allow myself to get too excited or be too happy. But not now. Now I am over the moon. I am really pregnant now.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Two Pink Lines!
What a freaking roller coaster the first trimester has been. I saw the two pink lines early, at four and half weeks pregnant. The two pink lines were clear as day! No wondering if a faint pink line was a positive or negative. The pee stick screamed pregnant. I literally collapsed onto the floor -- mind you it was the dirty, nasty CVS bathroom floor-- and started crying tears of joy.
At that ecstatic moment the end of my first trimester felt so far way but now it’s actually here. I am still in shock that I have made it this far. Having a previous early miscarriage had turned me a little neurotic. I have taken at least 35 pregnancy tests. I analyze my pee and toilet paper for anything out of the norm. I have become an internet junkie - searching for hours on end for one thing or another trying to put my mind at ease and convincing myself that everything is going to be ok. I even got an ultrasound at six weeks – you won’t believe it if I tell you that I previously came from the camp of women who aren’t too sure if ultrasounds are safe and its best to only get one or two at most. That all got thrown out the window because I wanted one and I wanted one NOW!
Our ultrasound found a perfect-sized sac and a little shady blob of a baby with a perfect, fast little heartbeat. BUT (and there had to be a but) we couldn’t see the yolk sac really at all. So this ultrasound that I thought was going to take all my worries away so I could blissfully breeze through the rest of my first trimester made me stress out even more. Where was the yolk sac? Why couldn’t we see the yolk sac? What does it mean if you can’t see the yolk sac? And thus the internet searching began. Some of what I found actually did calm me down a bit. I called my midwife and explained what we saw and she said this to me: “All we can do is wait and see what happens. Even if you get a perfect ultrasound at six weeks your baby could still be dead in a week. Nothing you can do about it”.
As harsh as it was to hear the words “your baby could still be dead in a week,” it did help me release some fear. I know that women have to give up control in labor to birth their babies, but I was not prepared to give up control a week and half into my pregnancy. So for the next 8 weeks I tried to give up control and give over to God what was best. Whatever happens will be for my highest good. I didn’t go a very good job but at least I tried.
At that ecstatic moment the end of my first trimester felt so far way but now it’s actually here. I am still in shock that I have made it this far. Having a previous early miscarriage had turned me a little neurotic. I have taken at least 35 pregnancy tests. I analyze my pee and toilet paper for anything out of the norm. I have become an internet junkie - searching for hours on end for one thing or another trying to put my mind at ease and convincing myself that everything is going to be ok. I even got an ultrasound at six weeks – you won’t believe it if I tell you that I previously came from the camp of women who aren’t too sure if ultrasounds are safe and its best to only get one or two at most. That all got thrown out the window because I wanted one and I wanted one NOW!
Our ultrasound found a perfect-sized sac and a little shady blob of a baby with a perfect, fast little heartbeat. BUT (and there had to be a but) we couldn’t see the yolk sac really at all. So this ultrasound that I thought was going to take all my worries away so I could blissfully breeze through the rest of my first trimester made me stress out even more. Where was the yolk sac? Why couldn’t we see the yolk sac? What does it mean if you can’t see the yolk sac? And thus the internet searching began. Some of what I found actually did calm me down a bit. I called my midwife and explained what we saw and she said this to me: “All we can do is wait and see what happens. Even if you get a perfect ultrasound at six weeks your baby could still be dead in a week. Nothing you can do about it”.
As harsh as it was to hear the words “your baby could still be dead in a week,” it did help me release some fear. I know that women have to give up control in labor to birth their babies, but I was not prepared to give up control a week and half into my pregnancy. So for the next 8 weeks I tried to give up control and give over to God what was best. Whatever happens will be for my highest good. I didn’t go a very good job but at least I tried.
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