So happy to report that I am officially halfway through this pregnancy, having hit the 20-week mark today!
Such a funny mix of feelings comes with hitting this point in the pregnancy.
On the one hand, I am thrilled and feel so relieved and in awe to have gotten to this point unscathed, and to have this pregnancy still healthy and intact after all we've been through to get here. And I am terribly excited that I only have 20 (well, actually, only 19) weeks left until I'm holding my baby girl!
WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
On the other hand, it hit me the other night that I'm staring down the barrel at a C-section in 19 weeks, which is a bit daunting considering I hate surgery and I'm starting to remember how long and unpleasant my recovery was after my C-section with Super Boy nearly 8 years ago.
EEEK!
I'm sure this one will be SOMEWHAT different and - hopefully - better, because I won't be in labor for 30 hours prior to having surgery this time, and I won't be starving, pumped full of fluids and drugs, and going on no sleep for the better part of a day and a half. There is a fair amount of consolation in all of that, believe me. But it's still a surgery, planned or not, and my worry-wart mind can't ignore all the implications of that. I realize that all I can do is prepare myself as best I can and pray that all goes as it's supposed to, and that is what I fully intend to do. Just know that as each week brings me closer to 5.11.11, I will be getting more and more anxious at the impending operation!
On the positive side, I've already decided that instead of having Super Man stay home with me the first week after the baby comes, as he did with Super Boy, I'm having my mom stay with me. There's a VERY GOOD REASON for this, my friends.
With Super Boy, Super Man wanted to be home with me the first week and for my mom to come the second week. I really didn't care at that point as long as SOMEONE was there, because I needed help with literally EVERYTHING -- getting in and out of bed, sitting up, getting the baby, doing laundry, showering, and so on. The nurses warned me ad nauseum about not overdoing it with any activity, only doing the stairs two times a day, not lifting anything heavier than the baby, etc., and I really wanted to be a good patient and heal properly (as I'd known a few people who did NOT take it easy enough and ended up with opened incisions, infections, and I did NOT want to follow in their footsteps!), so I was happy to comply. Super Man was there and heard all the instructions and limitations, and I thought we were on the same page and that he understood that being home with me meant that I needed him to pretty much be at my beck and call for the week, anticipating my and the baby's needs and doing whatever was needed to make it physically easier for me.
Yeah. WRONG!
See, the week BEFORE Super Boy was born, Super Man decided it was finally time to tear off our garage roof and get to work on replacing it. We own a 115-year-old house, and our garage used to house two horses back in the day. It's a big, stucco structure and had a very old and very bad roof on it that had pretty much caved in, rendering our garage unusable for the first two years we lived in our house. Why Super Man felt that RIGHT BEFORE THE BABY CAME was the time to dive into that project, I'll never know, but alas, that was how it went down. Now, to his credit, he got the old roof entirely torn off and the mess cleared out by the time I had Super Boy, but the new roof was not on. Knowing Super Man as I do, I figured that the urge to work on it would be OVERPOWERING to him while home with me that week, so I struck a deal with him: I didn't care if he did work on the garage AS LONG AS he kept his cell phone on him at all times so I could call him from the house phone and tell him when I needed him to come in to help me with something. He agreed to my condition.
He did well with our arrangement. For about three hours.
Next thing I know, I'm trying to call him to help me out of bed so I could pee, only to realize that I could hear his cell phone ringing downstairs on the kitchen table, despite the fact that he was outside in the garage.
Can you say "pissed off"? And even that was an understatement! That was pretty much how our week went. Every time I tried to call him, I could hear his phone ringing on the first floor while he was blissfully working in peace out in the garage.
Needless to say, by the time his week was up and my mom came, I was already more mobile than I had wanted to or planned to be, sheerly out of necessity. My mom was alarmed when she realized how much I was already doing and insisted I take it easy during her week. It was like heaven, having her around that week. She literally did EVERYTHING and let me rest. I didn't want her to go home. Ever.
So, it was clearly an easy choice as to who to have stay with me for Week 1 this time around: MOM, hands down. That said, I'm hoping that with the whole shindig being planned this time around and me not being so physically battered by the time it's done, I will feel a lot better and able to do more sooner, which will be nice for my mom, too, considering that she is also 8 years older this time around than last. And then Super Man can have the "easier" Week 2, and hopefully it won't matter quite so much if he's oblivious to the fact that I need his help because his BlackBerry is indoors while he is outdoors. :)
But hey - I'm 20 weeks! I have been feeling some movements for the past couple of weeks, and they make my heart sing. I find myself eagerly awaiting the day when I feel regular movements all day long. I'd forgotten how much your brain monitors and waits on those movements once you begin to feel them, and how anxiety-inducing it can be when you realize you haven't felt anything in hours. And I really can't wait for the kicks to be tangible from the outside. Super Boy is going to LOVE feeling his little sister kick and tumble around in my belly, and I can't wait to see his face! He is constantly touching my belly, rubbing and patting it, and of course commenting on how enormous it is. I think he's afraid to see how much scarier my belly button is going to get in the NEXT 20 weeks, because it's already freaking us both out pretty good right now!
I have savored this experience, to the max. Even when I'm uncomfortable or constipated or just feeling physically exhausted and whale-like, I am so thankful to be in this moment. This is what I dreamed of and longed for all those years we tried for our second baby together, and to be living it at long last is just miraculous. I'm sure some of you are sick of me saying that by now, but truly, that's how I feel and I can't apologize for it. I know so many people who got pregnant without really having to put any effort into it, and I always wonder if they TRULY realize and appreciate just what a miracle it is when it happens and stays and results in a healthy baby being born at the end. I can't imagine not treating the experience as something sacred after all of this.
I hope everyone had a beautiful holiday season, and my very best wishes to all for a blessed Happy New Year!
With a grateful heart,
SW
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
18
Tomorrow I will be 18 weeks. :)
I definitely feel pregnant at this point.
My belly has burgeoned. Really. Super Boy tells me EVERY DAY that he cannot believe how HUGE my belly is. He rubs it, pats it, touches it, pokes it, and tells me how fat it is. :) He's getting a HUGE kick out of this, trust me! He still can't quite believe that he ever fit in there himself. Frankly, neither can I.
Due to the burgeoning belly, I can still wear some of my regular non-maternity shirts, sweatshirts and yoga/sweatpants, but otherwise it's all maternity wear at this point.
I have heartburn. Almost every night. And occasionally during the day, too. TUMS are my friends. And not the little piddly TUMS but the ultra-strength TUMS. Which is great because they have lots of calcium. And even greater because they bring me sweet relief.
And - best part - I can now feel the baby move! It's not a constant thing at this point, but I am starting to feel little rolls and nudges here and there. It is as amazing to me this time as it was with Super Boy all those years ago. I find myself eagerly anticipating the next nudge. And the next. And I can't wait until the rest of the family can feel them on the outside of my belly - I especially can't wait to see Super Boy's face the first time he feels his little sister kick.
Medically, things have been pretty quiet here. I haven't been to a doctor since my appointment with the genetic specialist for the ultrasound and CVS in November. I see my regular OB-GYN tomorrow afternoon for a regular check-up, but I don't think they will be doing anything else at that appointment, like other labs or anything. And then I'll be back to the genetic specialist on 12.30.10 at 20 weeks for the mid-pregnancy ultrasound, which they're doing primarily to check the brain & heart development to make sure things are still on track. That should be the last ultrasound, assuming everything checks out okay and I don't run into any other problems in the next 22 weeks. It will be weird not seeing her on ultrasond anymore after 20 weeks, given that I've seen her three times in just the past 18 weeks!
We're still talking about names. I won't share them here just yet, but I've had my favorite for years that I'm really pulling for, and then Super Boy has his favorite, and Super Man has one that he's partial to. Frankly, since Super Man has already gotten to name a girl once, I feel like this one ought to be my call, although of course I want him to like and agree with the name. He DOES like my favorite, but he's not 100% on it at this point. I really like the name Super Boy wants, too, so that's my #2 choice, and then the one Super Man likes is sort of my #3, although I'm really not as fond of that one as the other two. The middle name is still open, because it's largely dependent upon which first name we choose.
It's funny because I remember feeling like choosing a name for Super Boy was HUGE, and a huge responsibility for us to get right. We went into the hospital knowing his middle name for sure (my paternal grandfather's name), but we had four first names that we liked, and we decided to see what Super Boy looked like and which one seemed to suit his personality best before settling on one. Incidentally, the one we chose wasn't my first choice going in, but it is literally the perfect name for him -- he fits it to a T, and there's no way I could imagine him being anything other than that. I hope that we choose as well for our daughter.
I love being pregnant at the holidays. I loved it with Super Boy, and I love it now. There's something very special about this time of year under any circumstances, but experiencing it while carrying this long awaited child is something particularly magical. Just like the conception of baby Jesus was a miracle, so was our conception of this little girl, at least to us.
Best wishes for safe and blessed holidays to all!
SW
I definitely feel pregnant at this point.
My belly has burgeoned. Really. Super Boy tells me EVERY DAY that he cannot believe how HUGE my belly is. He rubs it, pats it, touches it, pokes it, and tells me how fat it is. :) He's getting a HUGE kick out of this, trust me! He still can't quite believe that he ever fit in there himself. Frankly, neither can I.
Due to the burgeoning belly, I can still wear some of my regular non-maternity shirts, sweatshirts and yoga/sweatpants, but otherwise it's all maternity wear at this point.
I have heartburn. Almost every night. And occasionally during the day, too. TUMS are my friends. And not the little piddly TUMS but the ultra-strength TUMS. Which is great because they have lots of calcium. And even greater because they bring me sweet relief.
And - best part - I can now feel the baby move! It's not a constant thing at this point, but I am starting to feel little rolls and nudges here and there. It is as amazing to me this time as it was with Super Boy all those years ago. I find myself eagerly anticipating the next nudge. And the next. And I can't wait until the rest of the family can feel them on the outside of my belly - I especially can't wait to see Super Boy's face the first time he feels his little sister kick.
Medically, things have been pretty quiet here. I haven't been to a doctor since my appointment with the genetic specialist for the ultrasound and CVS in November. I see my regular OB-GYN tomorrow afternoon for a regular check-up, but I don't think they will be doing anything else at that appointment, like other labs or anything. And then I'll be back to the genetic specialist on 12.30.10 at 20 weeks for the mid-pregnancy ultrasound, which they're doing primarily to check the brain & heart development to make sure things are still on track. That should be the last ultrasound, assuming everything checks out okay and I don't run into any other problems in the next 22 weeks. It will be weird not seeing her on ultrasond anymore after 20 weeks, given that I've seen her three times in just the past 18 weeks!
We're still talking about names. I won't share them here just yet, but I've had my favorite for years that I'm really pulling for, and then Super Boy has his favorite, and Super Man has one that he's partial to. Frankly, since Super Man has already gotten to name a girl once, I feel like this one ought to be my call, although of course I want him to like and agree with the name. He DOES like my favorite, but he's not 100% on it at this point. I really like the name Super Boy wants, too, so that's my #2 choice, and then the one Super Man likes is sort of my #3, although I'm really not as fond of that one as the other two. The middle name is still open, because it's largely dependent upon which first name we choose.
It's funny because I remember feeling like choosing a name for Super Boy was HUGE, and a huge responsibility for us to get right. We went into the hospital knowing his middle name for sure (my paternal grandfather's name), but we had four first names that we liked, and we decided to see what Super Boy looked like and which one seemed to suit his personality best before settling on one. Incidentally, the one we chose wasn't my first choice going in, but it is literally the perfect name for him -- he fits it to a T, and there's no way I could imagine him being anything other than that. I hope that we choose as well for our daughter.
I love being pregnant at the holidays. I loved it with Super Boy, and I love it now. There's something very special about this time of year under any circumstances, but experiencing it while carrying this long awaited child is something particularly magical. Just like the conception of baby Jesus was a miracle, so was our conception of this little girl, at least to us.
Best wishes for safe and blessed holidays to all!
SW
Thursday, December 2, 2010
16
We've made it to 16 weeks, hallelujah!
Can I just tell you how relieved and thrilled I am to be here? It's such a surreal thing, being pregnant again. I'm marveling in every single day of it, because I know this is the last time I'll experience it and I want to relish every single moment. I cherished the experience of being pregnant with Super Boy, too, but knowing this is the last time I will be here, after all we went through to get here, I want to burn every second of it deep into my soul. It is truly surreal.
After all the years of trying and failing to conceive, after the two failed IUI attempts and then the miscarriage, as the clock continued to tick and I continued to get older...
I've mentioned before that the only thing that kept me going through all of it was the gut-level belief that there WAS another child for us, somewhere, waiting. Still, as we went into our fourth IUI, I was forced to think about what I would do if, God forbid, we got to the end of our sixth IUI and I still wasn't pregnant. For the first time in years, I had started picturing our life without that final family member. It was like looking through a very cloudy, blurry window, picturing that outcome, and it hurt my heart to envision it, but I had to at least try to prepare myself for what I dreaded. Which isn't to say that our family as it is was inadequate or somehow unsatisfactory, because it wasn't and isn't. But it was the thought of giving up the family I always envisioned us having that made it hurt. To me, not having that last child join us would always be a loss, a dream that didn't come true.
Knowing that our dream IS coming true, that my last sweet baby is growing and thriving, getting ready to join us in May, makes me smile from the inside out. I am so unbelievably, inconceivably grateful, I can't even properly express it.
And there is nothing sweeter than when Super Boy puts his hands on my belly and rubs it, saying he can't believe his little sister is in there, that "we're" finally getting a baby. I dreamed of this for him as much as for us. He has wanted to be a big brother forever, and knowing that he will get his wish is incredible. My heart feels fuller than ever!
My hope for all who have struggled to have a baby is that your dreams will come true very soon, too. If I could wave a wand and make it happen for you, I would, in a heartbeat. All I can do is encourage you to keep believing it will happen, to envision your life with that baby, to paint a mental picture of it so vividly that it is impossible for it NOT to become reality. I am fervently praying for all of you that your miracle is just around the corner.
Until next time,
SW
Can I just tell you how relieved and thrilled I am to be here? It's such a surreal thing, being pregnant again. I'm marveling in every single day of it, because I know this is the last time I'll experience it and I want to relish every single moment. I cherished the experience of being pregnant with Super Boy, too, but knowing this is the last time I will be here, after all we went through to get here, I want to burn every second of it deep into my soul. It is truly surreal.
After all the years of trying and failing to conceive, after the two failed IUI attempts and then the miscarriage, as the clock continued to tick and I continued to get older...
I've mentioned before that the only thing that kept me going through all of it was the gut-level belief that there WAS another child for us, somewhere, waiting. Still, as we went into our fourth IUI, I was forced to think about what I would do if, God forbid, we got to the end of our sixth IUI and I still wasn't pregnant. For the first time in years, I had started picturing our life without that final family member. It was like looking through a very cloudy, blurry window, picturing that outcome, and it hurt my heart to envision it, but I had to at least try to prepare myself for what I dreaded. Which isn't to say that our family as it is was inadequate or somehow unsatisfactory, because it wasn't and isn't. But it was the thought of giving up the family I always envisioned us having that made it hurt. To me, not having that last child join us would always be a loss, a dream that didn't come true.
Knowing that our dream IS coming true, that my last sweet baby is growing and thriving, getting ready to join us in May, makes me smile from the inside out. I am so unbelievably, inconceivably grateful, I can't even properly express it.
And there is nothing sweeter than when Super Boy puts his hands on my belly and rubs it, saying he can't believe his little sister is in there, that "we're" finally getting a baby. I dreamed of this for him as much as for us. He has wanted to be a big brother forever, and knowing that he will get his wish is incredible. My heart feels fuller than ever!
My hope for all who have struggled to have a baby is that your dreams will come true very soon, too. If I could wave a wand and make it happen for you, I would, in a heartbeat. All I can do is encourage you to keep believing it will happen, to envision your life with that baby, to paint a mental picture of it so vividly that it is impossible for it NOT to become reality. I am fervently praying for all of you that your miracle is just around the corner.
Until next time,
SW
Sunday, November 21, 2010
a crazy week that ended well
We are at 14 weeks and 4 days - amen!
We had a bit of a rollercoaster week, though, and when I say that I'm not exaggerating it ONE BIT.
I wrote last time (at 13 weeks) about how we were anxiously anticipating our nuchal translucency screening ultrasound and blood test on Friday 11/12, which are used to check for obvious genetic/chromosomal problems and identify potential risks for those problems. As I mentioned in my last post, I had never had this particular combined test when I was pregnant with Super Boy. It was available then, but it was never offered to me, probably in part because I was only 28 at the time and my levels of risk were relatively low.
Now, back when I was expecting Super Boy, the only similar screening tests I had were the triple screen (now called the quad screen, as another protein was added for screening) and the alpha feto-protein (AFP) test, which are both used to screen for possible neural tube defects, Down syndrome and Trisomy 13 and 18. I remember my doctor warning me that the triple screen had a high false-positive rate, and to take whatever results came back with a grain of salt as a result. She assured me that IF there were any indication of a problem on that test result, she would do further testing (likely amniocentesis) to drill down to more solid evidence one way or the other. Fortunately, in that pregnancy, it was never an issue and my results were fine and I ended up giving birth to a healthy baby boy.
Apparently, however, the nuchal translucency ultrasound combined with the special blood test has only a 5% false positive rate, so any red flags raised by those tests are taken a bit more seriously by doctors, as I was soon to find out.
The day of the ultrasound, on 11/12, we were nervous but also excited to get another look at our baby. The ultrasound tech warned us in advance that a nuchal ultrasound tends to take longer because they have to get a really optimal view of the neck folds on the baby, which can take awhile because babies move so much at that point. She was right in our case! Our baby was all over the place, waving its arms & legs, rolling over and turning around. It was WONDERFUL to see, and was awesome for us to get so much time to watch him or her, but frustrating for the tech to say the least! Ultimately, she was able to see everything she needed to see, and according to her, all the measurements of the baby were right on for the gestational age, and she saw nothing of concern. We met with my doctor right afterward and she, too, said things looked great. We made the mistake of prematurely breathing a sigh of relief and assuming all was well, despite the fact that our blood test would not be back for a week.
Big mistake.
We were going about our lives, not thinking too much about the blood test results, thinking in our minds that our baby was just fine, that everything was going beautifully. On Wednesday 11/17, around lunchtime, I was in the midst of talking to my mom on the phone about how we'd had to have an electrician out that morning and were looking at having to do some MAJOR electrical work on our house when, out of the blue, my cell phone started ringing. I told my mom to hold on a second while I checked to see who it was. It was my doctor's office. Only it wasn't just the doctor's office calling -- it was the doctor herself.
As soon as I heard my doctor's voice, my intestines clenched and my heart stopped. I knew it couldn't be a good sign that she herself was calling me to discuss my results. I could hardly breathe as she said that my test results had come back. My risk for Trisomy 13 and 18 were normal, 1 in around 7,000, so that was good. But the test showed an elevated risk of Down syndrome. Normal for my age (36) is around 1 in 375; my results came back putting the risk at 1 in 49, which is only "normal" for a woman of 43-years-old.
I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I didn't even know what to say. My doctor said it was "probably nothing to be concerned about, but" she wanted me to see a genetic specialist as soon as possible for a genetic ultrasound and possibly amnio or CVS (chorionic villus sampling). I was numb as she gave me the names and phone numbers of the specialists she recommended contacting. I thanked her for calling, somehow still managing to hold my shit together, and then she said, "Super Woman, like I said, it's PROBABLY nothing to worry about, so try to stay calm and relax, and let's just see what the genetic specialist finds. One in 49 means that 48 babies will be just fine - the odds are in your favor."
And, just like that, I started bawling.
My doctor kept talking to me while I calmed down, and then when I had a grip on myself again, she told me to call her back if I had any questions and to let her know who I was going to see for the ultrasound.
Long story short, we thankfully ended up getting in with one of her recommended specialists the very next day. I was beyond relieved -- the thought of facing several days or even a week of waiting for answers was simply intolerable. Still, not knowing what lay ahead of us the following day meant very little sleep that night, for me or Super Man. Thankfully, my mom came to be with us, knowing it would help calm me down and keep me from obsessing over the worst case scenario. And while I can't say it totally worked, I will admit that it helped.
Our appointment was on Thursday 11/18 at 12:30pm. We had been told it would be at least a 1.5 hour appointment, possibly longer, depending on whether we needed to have amnio or CVS. When the time came to drive to the specialist's office, we resolved to just get through it and hope for the best. Still, I was shaking like a leaf. Thankfully the doctor's office was just down the road from our house, 5 minutes away, so I wasn't a danger to myself or others driving over there.
The doctor, an older German man, was phenomenal. Excellent personality for working with someone like me (meaning someone who is a grade-A first-class chronic worrier). He took a thorough history of our family backgrounds, our health, my prior pregnancies and this pregnancy, and then talked to us about what was going to happen that day. He said that he focuses on four things in conducting genetic ultrasounds:
1.) the health of the pregnancy, meaning my uterus; the placenta; the amniotic fluid; my blood flow to the baby and placenta; and so forth;
2.) the health of the baby, meaning the actual baby itself and all of its measurements; the blood flow within the umbilical cord and the baby's body; the health, development and function of the baby's organs; the heart rate of the baby; and so forth;
3.) looking for indicators of birth defects, such as missing or extra digits on hands/feet, malformed body parts, etc.; and
4.) looking for signs of chromosomal disorders, like Down's, by checking the development and function of the heart and other organs, and checking the measurements of the baby for its gestational age.
He said that amnio or CVS may not be necessary if he could reasonably rule out the risk based on the ultrasound alone, but if it looked like one of those additional tests would be warranted, he would only do it if everything with the baby was ideal on ultrasound, because there is a slight risk of miscarriage with either of those more invasive tests. We could refuse them, but if solid answers were what we wanted, we had to be willing to accept the slight risk of miscarriage. We knew we were ready to accept that risk if necessary, because the alternative -- waiting in the dark for 6 months to find out after the baby was born -- was not something we felt we could endure.
The ultrasound took about an hour, but it was far more detailed than any ultrasound I've ever had before. Once again, our baby was moving around like crazy, very active, sucking its thumb and waving its hands and feet at us. Seeing that totally warmed our hearts, and my mom was amazed by how much could be seen given that I was just over 14 weeks pregnant and she'd never had even one ultrasound with me, my brother or my sister!
The doctor checked E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G, from my reproductive organs to the top of the baby's head to the tips of its toes. He showed us where the baby's teensy-tiny kidneys and liver were, and looked closely at the chambers of the heart, the movement of blood in the baby's body, and even pointed out the tiny pearls of the baby's fingers, toes and joints. It was truly amazing.
The icing on the cake of the ultrasound was that the specialist was able to tell the baby's gender, which was something we had planned on having to wait to find out at my 18-week general anatomic ultrasound, which was scheduled for 12/15. I knew the baby's gender in my heart from the very beginning, but Super Man, Super Girl and Super Boy all thought it was the opposite, so I was really happy to hear that my gut instinct was right: this baby is a GIRL!! My mom and I both started crying at the happy news; Super Man's response? "Are you sure? Can you check that again?" :) In case you're wondering, he was sort of hoping for another boy! But he is of course thrilled to have another daughter.
Thankfully, the entire time the doctor was doing the ultrasound, he talked about what he was looking at, and all his comments were good -- everything was where it was supposed to be, doing what it was supposed to be doing, and as developed and appropriately sized as it was supposed to be at that point. Still, somehow, at the end of the ultrasound he told me that he could NOT say for sure that the baby did NOT have Down's. The ultrasound did not reveal any specific markers, but he couldn't confidently say for sure based solely on the ultrasound, so he recommended doing CVS. We asked why he wanted to do that versus amnio, and he said that the accuracy was virtually the same and we'd have the results the very next day, versus a week to wait for amnio results. We consented, and they prepped me and did the test right away.
I, of course, had no idea what to expect, having never been through a CVS before. I understood there would be a big, thin needle involved, the placement of which would be determined and guided by ultrasound, that they would be inserting that needle into the placenta through my abdomen, and that the purpose of the CVS was to take a tissue sample from the placenta, which shares the same genetic material as the baby itself. The doctor felt confident based on the placement of the baby and the placenta that he could do the test very safely without any impact on the baby, which put my mind at ease. He said it would pinch a little during the test, but it was a quick test and I would feel pretty much fine afterward.
He was right. It was a little uncomfortable when the sample was being extricated, but it was over within a few minutes. I had a little tenderness around the point of insertion, and have felt an occasional twinge here and there in the days since, but I have had no bleeding or spotting or fever or anything else (thank God). When we left, 2 hours after we arrived, we were told that we could call in at 4pm the following day, Friday 11/19, to get our results. This doctor handles it that way so that the patients are prepared and he's not calling anyone at a bad time to share potentially bad news. I was glad for that, but wished he'd said we'd have results by 10am instead of 4pm!
Needless to say, Thursday was another near sleepless night. I tried so hard to just focus on the wonderful ultrasound and the news that our baby girl appeared to be healthy and was measuring normal and all indicators were generally good, and focus less on the possibility that our baby might have Down's, but it was hard not to worry. Fortunately, we had Super Boy's parent-teacher conference at school Friday morning, and had a handful of errands to run that morning as well, so it helped to distract me, but the afternoon passed agonizingly slow.
Super Man had to go in to work that day, but planned to get home before 4pm. My mom had stayed with us, and my awesome Super Friend also offered to come and be with us for the call, so I had plenty of love and support around me, just in case. Unfortunately, Super Man ended up getting home a little late, but we were able to make the call by 4:15pm.
I could barely breathe waiting for them to answer. Once they did, they didn't keep us waiting. We were told immediately that the test results came back completely normal, that our baby was just fine, healthy and normal. I started crying with relief, and then the nurse asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby. Super Man told her that the doctor had told us during the ultrasound that it was a girl, and she confirmed that the CVS showed that as well, so it was all good news on all fronts.
We were so relieved... honestly, I can't find the words to express the sheer measure of our relief. We had discussed the "what if," obviously, and we were both in agreement about our general feelings should that come to pass, but we just prayed that we wouldn't have anything to worry about when all was said and done. Because this is it -- there will be no more pregnancies for us, regardless of the outcome of this one. After going through my miscarriage in the spring, I knew that if we lost another one, I could not personally go through it all again, given all we had to do just to GET pregnant. So, for sure, the relief we felt hearing that our baby is doing beautifully and is normal and healthy was beyond anything I could ever have imagined.
With all we've gone through, I know how lucky we are to be here, now, expecting this baby. I pray every single day for those couples who have struggled to get pregnant, for those who have suffered losses, for those who have reached the end of the road in their efforts to have a baby. It's not easy, any of it. There are no magic words to heal the hurt. I pray for peace for all.
With a grateful heart,
SW
We had a bit of a rollercoaster week, though, and when I say that I'm not exaggerating it ONE BIT.
I wrote last time (at 13 weeks) about how we were anxiously anticipating our nuchal translucency screening ultrasound and blood test on Friday 11/12, which are used to check for obvious genetic/chromosomal problems and identify potential risks for those problems. As I mentioned in my last post, I had never had this particular combined test when I was pregnant with Super Boy. It was available then, but it was never offered to me, probably in part because I was only 28 at the time and my levels of risk were relatively low.
Now, back when I was expecting Super Boy, the only similar screening tests I had were the triple screen (now called the quad screen, as another protein was added for screening) and the alpha feto-protein (AFP) test, which are both used to screen for possible neural tube defects, Down syndrome and Trisomy 13 and 18. I remember my doctor warning me that the triple screen had a high false-positive rate, and to take whatever results came back with a grain of salt as a result. She assured me that IF there were any indication of a problem on that test result, she would do further testing (likely amniocentesis) to drill down to more solid evidence one way or the other. Fortunately, in that pregnancy, it was never an issue and my results were fine and I ended up giving birth to a healthy baby boy.
Apparently, however, the nuchal translucency ultrasound combined with the special blood test has only a 5% false positive rate, so any red flags raised by those tests are taken a bit more seriously by doctors, as I was soon to find out.
The day of the ultrasound, on 11/12, we were nervous but also excited to get another look at our baby. The ultrasound tech warned us in advance that a nuchal ultrasound tends to take longer because they have to get a really optimal view of the neck folds on the baby, which can take awhile because babies move so much at that point. She was right in our case! Our baby was all over the place, waving its arms & legs, rolling over and turning around. It was WONDERFUL to see, and was awesome for us to get so much time to watch him or her, but frustrating for the tech to say the least! Ultimately, she was able to see everything she needed to see, and according to her, all the measurements of the baby were right on for the gestational age, and she saw nothing of concern. We met with my doctor right afterward and she, too, said things looked great. We made the mistake of prematurely breathing a sigh of relief and assuming all was well, despite the fact that our blood test would not be back for a week.
Big mistake.
We were going about our lives, not thinking too much about the blood test results, thinking in our minds that our baby was just fine, that everything was going beautifully. On Wednesday 11/17, around lunchtime, I was in the midst of talking to my mom on the phone about how we'd had to have an electrician out that morning and were looking at having to do some MAJOR electrical work on our house when, out of the blue, my cell phone started ringing. I told my mom to hold on a second while I checked to see who it was. It was my doctor's office. Only it wasn't just the doctor's office calling -- it was the doctor herself.
As soon as I heard my doctor's voice, my intestines clenched and my heart stopped. I knew it couldn't be a good sign that she herself was calling me to discuss my results. I could hardly breathe as she said that my test results had come back. My risk for Trisomy 13 and 18 were normal, 1 in around 7,000, so that was good. But the test showed an elevated risk of Down syndrome. Normal for my age (36) is around 1 in 375; my results came back putting the risk at 1 in 49, which is only "normal" for a woman of 43-years-old.
I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. I didn't even know what to say. My doctor said it was "probably nothing to be concerned about, but" she wanted me to see a genetic specialist as soon as possible for a genetic ultrasound and possibly amnio or CVS (chorionic villus sampling). I was numb as she gave me the names and phone numbers of the specialists she recommended contacting. I thanked her for calling, somehow still managing to hold my shit together, and then she said, "Super Woman, like I said, it's PROBABLY nothing to worry about, so try to stay calm and relax, and let's just see what the genetic specialist finds. One in 49 means that 48 babies will be just fine - the odds are in your favor."
And, just like that, I started bawling.
My doctor kept talking to me while I calmed down, and then when I had a grip on myself again, she told me to call her back if I had any questions and to let her know who I was going to see for the ultrasound.
Long story short, we thankfully ended up getting in with one of her recommended specialists the very next day. I was beyond relieved -- the thought of facing several days or even a week of waiting for answers was simply intolerable. Still, not knowing what lay ahead of us the following day meant very little sleep that night, for me or Super Man. Thankfully, my mom came to be with us, knowing it would help calm me down and keep me from obsessing over the worst case scenario. And while I can't say it totally worked, I will admit that it helped.
Our appointment was on Thursday 11/18 at 12:30pm. We had been told it would be at least a 1.5 hour appointment, possibly longer, depending on whether we needed to have amnio or CVS. When the time came to drive to the specialist's office, we resolved to just get through it and hope for the best. Still, I was shaking like a leaf. Thankfully the doctor's office was just down the road from our house, 5 minutes away, so I wasn't a danger to myself or others driving over there.
The doctor, an older German man, was phenomenal. Excellent personality for working with someone like me (meaning someone who is a grade-A first-class chronic worrier). He took a thorough history of our family backgrounds, our health, my prior pregnancies and this pregnancy, and then talked to us about what was going to happen that day. He said that he focuses on four things in conducting genetic ultrasounds:
1.) the health of the pregnancy, meaning my uterus; the placenta; the amniotic fluid; my blood flow to the baby and placenta; and so forth;
2.) the health of the baby, meaning the actual baby itself and all of its measurements; the blood flow within the umbilical cord and the baby's body; the health, development and function of the baby's organs; the heart rate of the baby; and so forth;
3.) looking for indicators of birth defects, such as missing or extra digits on hands/feet, malformed body parts, etc.; and
4.) looking for signs of chromosomal disorders, like Down's, by checking the development and function of the heart and other organs, and checking the measurements of the baby for its gestational age.
He said that amnio or CVS may not be necessary if he could reasonably rule out the risk based on the ultrasound alone, but if it looked like one of those additional tests would be warranted, he would only do it if everything with the baby was ideal on ultrasound, because there is a slight risk of miscarriage with either of those more invasive tests. We could refuse them, but if solid answers were what we wanted, we had to be willing to accept the slight risk of miscarriage. We knew we were ready to accept that risk if necessary, because the alternative -- waiting in the dark for 6 months to find out after the baby was born -- was not something we felt we could endure.
The ultrasound took about an hour, but it was far more detailed than any ultrasound I've ever had before. Once again, our baby was moving around like crazy, very active, sucking its thumb and waving its hands and feet at us. Seeing that totally warmed our hearts, and my mom was amazed by how much could be seen given that I was just over 14 weeks pregnant and she'd never had even one ultrasound with me, my brother or my sister!
The doctor checked E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G, from my reproductive organs to the top of the baby's head to the tips of its toes. He showed us where the baby's teensy-tiny kidneys and liver were, and looked closely at the chambers of the heart, the movement of blood in the baby's body, and even pointed out the tiny pearls of the baby's fingers, toes and joints. It was truly amazing.
The icing on the cake of the ultrasound was that the specialist was able to tell the baby's gender, which was something we had planned on having to wait to find out at my 18-week general anatomic ultrasound, which was scheduled for 12/15. I knew the baby's gender in my heart from the very beginning, but Super Man, Super Girl and Super Boy all thought it was the opposite, so I was really happy to hear that my gut instinct was right: this baby is a GIRL!! My mom and I both started crying at the happy news; Super Man's response? "Are you sure? Can you check that again?" :) In case you're wondering, he was sort of hoping for another boy! But he is of course thrilled to have another daughter.
Thankfully, the entire time the doctor was doing the ultrasound, he talked about what he was looking at, and all his comments were good -- everything was where it was supposed to be, doing what it was supposed to be doing, and as developed and appropriately sized as it was supposed to be at that point. Still, somehow, at the end of the ultrasound he told me that he could NOT say for sure that the baby did NOT have Down's. The ultrasound did not reveal any specific markers, but he couldn't confidently say for sure based solely on the ultrasound, so he recommended doing CVS. We asked why he wanted to do that versus amnio, and he said that the accuracy was virtually the same and we'd have the results the very next day, versus a week to wait for amnio results. We consented, and they prepped me and did the test right away.
I, of course, had no idea what to expect, having never been through a CVS before. I understood there would be a big, thin needle involved, the placement of which would be determined and guided by ultrasound, that they would be inserting that needle into the placenta through my abdomen, and that the purpose of the CVS was to take a tissue sample from the placenta, which shares the same genetic material as the baby itself. The doctor felt confident based on the placement of the baby and the placenta that he could do the test very safely without any impact on the baby, which put my mind at ease. He said it would pinch a little during the test, but it was a quick test and I would feel pretty much fine afterward.
He was right. It was a little uncomfortable when the sample was being extricated, but it was over within a few minutes. I had a little tenderness around the point of insertion, and have felt an occasional twinge here and there in the days since, but I have had no bleeding or spotting or fever or anything else (thank God). When we left, 2 hours after we arrived, we were told that we could call in at 4pm the following day, Friday 11/19, to get our results. This doctor handles it that way so that the patients are prepared and he's not calling anyone at a bad time to share potentially bad news. I was glad for that, but wished he'd said we'd have results by 10am instead of 4pm!
Needless to say, Thursday was another near sleepless night. I tried so hard to just focus on the wonderful ultrasound and the news that our baby girl appeared to be healthy and was measuring normal and all indicators were generally good, and focus less on the possibility that our baby might have Down's, but it was hard not to worry. Fortunately, we had Super Boy's parent-teacher conference at school Friday morning, and had a handful of errands to run that morning as well, so it helped to distract me, but the afternoon passed agonizingly slow.
Super Man had to go in to work that day, but planned to get home before 4pm. My mom had stayed with us, and my awesome Super Friend also offered to come and be with us for the call, so I had plenty of love and support around me, just in case. Unfortunately, Super Man ended up getting home a little late, but we were able to make the call by 4:15pm.
I could barely breathe waiting for them to answer. Once they did, they didn't keep us waiting. We were told immediately that the test results came back completely normal, that our baby was just fine, healthy and normal. I started crying with relief, and then the nurse asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby. Super Man told her that the doctor had told us during the ultrasound that it was a girl, and she confirmed that the CVS showed that as well, so it was all good news on all fronts.
We were so relieved... honestly, I can't find the words to express the sheer measure of our relief. We had discussed the "what if," obviously, and we were both in agreement about our general feelings should that come to pass, but we just prayed that we wouldn't have anything to worry about when all was said and done. Because this is it -- there will be no more pregnancies for us, regardless of the outcome of this one. After going through my miscarriage in the spring, I knew that if we lost another one, I could not personally go through it all again, given all we had to do just to GET pregnant. So, for sure, the relief we felt hearing that our baby is doing beautifully and is normal and healthy was beyond anything I could ever have imagined.
With all we've gone through, I know how lucky we are to be here, now, expecting this baby. I pray every single day for those couples who have struggled to get pregnant, for those who have suffered losses, for those who have reached the end of the road in their efforts to have a baby. It's not easy, any of it. There are no magic words to heal the hurt. I pray for peace for all.
With a grateful heart,
SW
Thursday, November 11, 2010
thirteen
I am happy to report that I am now 13 weeks and 1 day pregnant. :)
Yes, it looks as though we all survived the first trimester intact, praise be to God! In fact, I ended up with a sinus infection last week and went in to my ob-gyn last Wednesday, when I was exactly 12 weeks, and while I was there having her listen to my lungs and write me a script for an antibiotic, I asked if I was far enough along to hear the heartbeat yet. The answer was yes. Which was great, because Super Boy happened to be with me, as I had just picked him up from school when the doctor's office called to say they could get me in to listen to my lungs.
So Dr. F got her little doppler thing-a-majig, put some jelly on my belly, and found Baby G2's heartbeat immediately. Hearing those 164 beats per minute was music to my ears, and resulted in my breathing just a little bit easier knowing that baby was still alive and well in my belly.
And watching Super Boy's face as Dr. F found the heartbeat was an extraordinary thing. :) His eyes got big and sparkly, a huge grin spread across his face, and he raised his eyebrows, asking, "Mom... is THAT the baby or you?" He was very excited to hear the heartbeat.
For about 30 seconds. :)
And then he was more curious about the jelly on my belly, and whether it was hot or cold, and if the doctor was going to wipe it off or leave it, etc.
Boys. :)
Anyhoo, last Wednesday was a beautiful day getting to hear the baby's heartbeat and have a little reassurance that things were okay. And now tomorrow Super Man and I will go in for the nuchal translucency ultrasound and Quad Screen blood tests. I'm a little nervous - after all, I'm not the spring chicken I was when I had Super Boy - but I have to hope that God will be merciful and spare this baby any genetic problems after all we've been through to conceive him or her. Dr. F will be meeting with us after the ultrasound so I'll know those results immediately, but we'll have to wait for the blood test results. Please keep us in your prayers that all turns out well.
Being at this point in the pregnancy is a lot of fun. My regular jeans/pants/skirts are almost too tight now but some of my under-belly maternity stuff is now fitting better, so my wardrobe shift is underway. And - holla! - my evening sickness has tapered off dramatically, so now I pretty much only feel sick if I wait too long to eat dinner. I can't tell you how glad I am to feel mostly nausea-free now! I'm sleeping better (but for my cough that won't go away), I'm not peeing every 6 seconds (although I expect that to resume as the baby continues to grow and tap dance on my bladder), and I am not nearly as exhausted during the day as I was a few weeks ago, so I'm being a bit more productive. I remember LOVING the second trimester with Super Boy, and I hope I will be able to revel in this second trimester, too.
We feel very blessed to be where we are right now, anticipating the arrival of our last child together, and we are so thankful that our prayers have been answered, at long last.
Our thoughts & prayers, however, also remain with those who are still struggling to achieve and/or sustain the pregnancies they so deeply desire. Keep hope. Keep faith. Miracles happen.
Yours,
SW
Yes, it looks as though we all survived the first trimester intact, praise be to God! In fact, I ended up with a sinus infection last week and went in to my ob-gyn last Wednesday, when I was exactly 12 weeks, and while I was there having her listen to my lungs and write me a script for an antibiotic, I asked if I was far enough along to hear the heartbeat yet. The answer was yes. Which was great, because Super Boy happened to be with me, as I had just picked him up from school when the doctor's office called to say they could get me in to listen to my lungs.
So Dr. F got her little doppler thing-a-majig, put some jelly on my belly, and found Baby G2's heartbeat immediately. Hearing those 164 beats per minute was music to my ears, and resulted in my breathing just a little bit easier knowing that baby was still alive and well in my belly.
And watching Super Boy's face as Dr. F found the heartbeat was an extraordinary thing. :) His eyes got big and sparkly, a huge grin spread across his face, and he raised his eyebrows, asking, "Mom... is THAT the baby or you?" He was very excited to hear the heartbeat.
For about 30 seconds. :)
And then he was more curious about the jelly on my belly, and whether it was hot or cold, and if the doctor was going to wipe it off or leave it, etc.
Boys. :)
Anyhoo, last Wednesday was a beautiful day getting to hear the baby's heartbeat and have a little reassurance that things were okay. And now tomorrow Super Man and I will go in for the nuchal translucency ultrasound and Quad Screen blood tests. I'm a little nervous - after all, I'm not the spring chicken I was when I had Super Boy - but I have to hope that God will be merciful and spare this baby any genetic problems after all we've been through to conceive him or her. Dr. F will be meeting with us after the ultrasound so I'll know those results immediately, but we'll have to wait for the blood test results. Please keep us in your prayers that all turns out well.
Being at this point in the pregnancy is a lot of fun. My regular jeans/pants/skirts are almost too tight now but some of my under-belly maternity stuff is now fitting better, so my wardrobe shift is underway. And - holla! - my evening sickness has tapered off dramatically, so now I pretty much only feel sick if I wait too long to eat dinner. I can't tell you how glad I am to feel mostly nausea-free now! I'm sleeping better (but for my cough that won't go away), I'm not peeing every 6 seconds (although I expect that to resume as the baby continues to grow and tap dance on my bladder), and I am not nearly as exhausted during the day as I was a few weeks ago, so I'm being a bit more productive. I remember LOVING the second trimester with Super Boy, and I hope I will be able to revel in this second trimester, too.
We feel very blessed to be where we are right now, anticipating the arrival of our last child together, and we are so thankful that our prayers have been answered, at long last.
Our thoughts & prayers, however, also remain with those who are still struggling to achieve and/or sustain the pregnancies they so deeply desire. Keep hope. Keep faith. Miracles happen.
Yours,
SW
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
where do babies come from?
I've got an interesting conundrum to work through as it pertains to my sweet little Super Boy. Here's the sitch...
Back when Super Man and I first started trying for a little sibling for Super Boy, Super Boy was not quite 3 years old yet, so we obviously didn't discuss the situation with him at that point. Of course, given that we tried and tried and TRIED for 4-1/2 years, and Super Boy was growing older that entire time and starting to vocalize his deep and burning desire for a little brother ("or sister, if that's what it HAS to be, Mom") as more and more of his friends became big brothers and sister, and asking why we didn't have another baby yet, and becoming more and more aware of my frequent doctor appointments and medications, I decided to talk to him a little about the situation so he would know that we also very much WANTED to give him a little brother (or sister) but things weren't working out the way they usually do.
I started out simple, starting when Super Boy was maybe 4 or 5, just telling him that we really wanted another baby, too, but we were having a hard time getting pregnant this time. He asked how long it took us to get pregnant with him; I told him it took us just 3 months. He asked what was wrong this time; I told him that we didn't know, and that our doctors were doing tests on both me and daddy trying to see if something wasn't working, but so far they weren't finding any problems. I also told him that sometimes as moms and dads get older, it's harder to have a baby.
When it came time to seek help from fertility specialists last fall, I explained to Super Boy that I was seeing a special doctor who was going to try to help us get a baby in my belly. He asked what they do, and I explained that I would have to take some special medicines and have some special tests done on certain days, and then when everything was just right, Dad & I would each go in to have a special procedure called IUI that would *hopefully* make a baby in my tummy.
Now, I should stop there and mention that Super Boy has gradually learned along the way that moms' bodies work in weird ways. For example, he knows that women have periods, because he had to accompany me into public restrooms for YEARS when he was younger and Super Man wasn't with us, and sometimes saw things we both would've rather he not seen! Rather than lie or not explain why Mommy had blood on her toilet paper and leave it to his imagination (which likely would've led to nightmares of Mommy bleeding to death), I explained to him that when a girl grows up, her body changes and becomes more womanly, and part of that means that her body gets ready to have babies someday, which includes having periods every month. I explained to him that when a woman has a period, it's only for a handful of days, and the bleeding is coming from her uterus, where babies grow, to keep it healthy and ready for a baby. Sometimes a woman will have some cramps with her period and feel tired or cranky, but for the most part it doesn't hurt and it's not a big deal. Once he knew what it was about, he was totally blase about it, and it was no longer a big deal to him.
So, when we began IUI for our secondary infertility, I explained to Super Boy that there were certain days in my cycle after my period when I'd have to take special medication to help my body get ready for a baby, and then we'd have that special procedure when my body was ready, and then if I DIDN'T get a period at the end of that month, that would mean it worked and there was a baby, but if I DID get a period, then it meant our IUI didn't work and there wasn't a baby in my tummy.
Super Boy also noticed that Daddy had a part in some of the things I had to do at the special doctor. I explained to him that in order to make a baby, there has to be an egg (which comes only from the mom's ovaries, inside her body by her uterus), and a sperm (which comes only from the dad's testicles/penis). So Dad had to give the doctors his sperm, and then the doctors washed out the weak or damaged sperm and only kept the best and strongest sperm, and then the special procedure was to inject Daddy's sperm right into my uterus, where my eggs would be waiting. And if it worked, the baby would grow in my uterus until it was ready to be born.
I should also mention here that Super Boy has always known that he had to come out of my belly in surgery, because he was so big I couldn't push him out. And, like most little kids, he was under the impression for awhile that moms POOP their babies out of their butts, but I explained to him that babies grow in their mom's uterus and then are usually pushed out of their vaginas. But with him, he was big and facing the wrong way in my belly, and he got stuck, so I had to have surgery to get him out. He has seen my C-section scar and knows that that's where he came from.
For the longest time, Super Boy never asked anything more about the process, and then when we had our last IUI in August, Super Boy had to go to the fertility specialist's office with me on the day I had IUI (all of my other IUIs had taken place during the school year and while Super Boy was actually AT school, so he'd never accompanied me to their office before).
On our way to my appointment, Super Boy asked if Dad had gone in earlier to give his sperm, and I said yes. Super Boy knows that Daddy hates needles, and he must've assumed that needles must be involved in getting the sperm out because he said, "I'll bet Dad doesn't like doing that because he doesn't like needles!"
I hemmed and hawed for a minute, and said, "Well, they don't actually use needles to get the sperm, baby."
Of course, his next question was, "Then how do they get it?"
While we had been fairly forthcoming with honest answers to his questions up to that point, I was reluctant to explain the process of masturbation to my sweet 7-year-old son, so I said, "You know what? We'll talk about that another time, ok?"
Being the smart and inquisitive little guy that he is, that answer didn't cut it with him. Still, I told him I had to think about how to answer it and promised him that I would eventually talk to him about it.
As I continued driving, I realized that we really DO need to explain the NORMAL process of how babies are made to him, as well as better explain the process WE had to go through this time, because I was loathe to think that my son would think that all this craziness we've gone through in the past year is the usual route to having a baby! So I said to him, "Honey, pretty soon I will have a talk with you about how babies are USUALLY made, so you don't think that all of this that Dad & I have had to go through is normal, ok?"
Super Boy surprised me by saying, "Oh, Mom, I already KNOW how babies are made most of the time."
...{crickets chirping in the background as my jaw hits the steering wheel}...
"Um... you do?" I asked, hesitantly.
"Yes - of course I know!" he answered smugly.
"Okay... so tell me," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Well, moms and dads have to hug and kiss a lot. And then the sperm swims through the dad's mouth into the mom's mouth and into her belly, and that's how a baby is made," he said, rolling his eyes like I was an idiot for not knowing this.
Squelching my laughter, I realized that we REALLY needed to set that record straight at some point!
So I talked to Super Man about it and shared my concerns with him. He is nowhere near as open or comfortable talking about all of this as I am (even with other adults!), and he's inclined to think that kids don't need to know how babies are REALLY made at Super Boy's age. But I disagree. I think it has to be easier to discuss it with them at an age like this, when they ARE old enough to ask questions and want information but AREN'T yet old enough to be mortified with embarrassment at having the SEX talk with their parents because they're not mentally picturing the whole scenario. And the fact that I've always talked about bodies openly and used proper terminology for parts, and I've always answered his questions honestly and as age-appropriately as possible, has set the stage for Super Boy to not feel self-conscious having conversations with me.
Still, I didn't want to rush a conversation that Super Boy might NOT be ready for. And then I ran across a GREAT reminder of how to have the "where do babies come from" conversation with children, in the form of this book: "Where Did I Come From?" by Peter Mayle and Arthur Robins. I ordered it and it arrived in today's mail.
Now, I remember reading this book when I was a child -- but not because my parents got it for me or would even DREAM of getting it for me! One of my friends had very laid-back hippie parents who were totally open with her and her brother about where babies come from (and everything else), and she had this book. Whenever I would play or sleepover at her house, I was drawn to the book like a moth to a flame, because I'd never seen or heard ANY of that before, and I found it fascinating. I was maybe 8 at the time, and I remember it making me vaguely sick to my stomach, but at the same time, I was really relieved to finally have the information that had been such a mystery up to that point.
I want Super Man to read it before I share it with Super Boy, but I think it does a pretty good job of explaining the parts and mechanics of the whole thing in a straightforward and not too gross or graphic manner. Super Boy already knows about the parts, but he clearly lacks the understanding of what goes where and how A (the sperm) gets to B (the egg) to create C (a baby) under NORMAL circumstances!
I'm curious: How have YOU talked to your other children about this subject? What resources (if any) did you refer to with them? And how did your kids respond?
Before I sign off, I wanted to share another funny story involving this subject, Super Boy and our baby-to-be. A few weeks ago, Super Boy and I were in the car and, totally out of the blue, Super Boy says, "Hey, Mom? Can I be there when you have the baby?"
Me: Do you mean can you be at the hospital when I have the baby or can you be in the room with me?
SB: Can I be in the room with you?
Me {pausing}: Well... If I have another C-section, only Dad and the doctor & nurses will be allowed in the room. But even if I try to have the baby the normal way, I'm not sure if the hospital would LET you be in the room with us because you're so young. And even if they did... honey, you probably don't want to see all that. It's messy and Mom and Dad will be pretty preoccupied trying to get the baby out.
SB: Is there a lot of blood and stuff?
Me: Yes, blood and other stuff. And the baby won't look very good when it first comes out either, before they have clean it up and cut its umbilical cord and all that. {pause} Baby, why do you want to be there?
SB {pausing to think of how to say it}: Well, I just want to see if the baby, like, POPS out or if it SLIDES out.
I LOVE the way kids think. :)
Yours,
SW
Back when Super Man and I first started trying for a little sibling for Super Boy, Super Boy was not quite 3 years old yet, so we obviously didn't discuss the situation with him at that point. Of course, given that we tried and tried and TRIED for 4-1/2 years, and Super Boy was growing older that entire time and starting to vocalize his deep and burning desire for a little brother ("or sister, if that's what it HAS to be, Mom") as more and more of his friends became big brothers and sister, and asking why we didn't have another baby yet, and becoming more and more aware of my frequent doctor appointments and medications, I decided to talk to him a little about the situation so he would know that we also very much WANTED to give him a little brother (or sister) but things weren't working out the way they usually do.
I started out simple, starting when Super Boy was maybe 4 or 5, just telling him that we really wanted another baby, too, but we were having a hard time getting pregnant this time. He asked how long it took us to get pregnant with him; I told him it took us just 3 months. He asked what was wrong this time; I told him that we didn't know, and that our doctors were doing tests on both me and daddy trying to see if something wasn't working, but so far they weren't finding any problems. I also told him that sometimes as moms and dads get older, it's harder to have a baby.
When it came time to seek help from fertility specialists last fall, I explained to Super Boy that I was seeing a special doctor who was going to try to help us get a baby in my belly. He asked what they do, and I explained that I would have to take some special medicines and have some special tests done on certain days, and then when everything was just right, Dad & I would each go in to have a special procedure called IUI that would *hopefully* make a baby in my tummy.
Now, I should stop there and mention that Super Boy has gradually learned along the way that moms' bodies work in weird ways. For example, he knows that women have periods, because he had to accompany me into public restrooms for YEARS when he was younger and Super Man wasn't with us, and sometimes saw things we both would've rather he not seen! Rather than lie or not explain why Mommy had blood on her toilet paper and leave it to his imagination (which likely would've led to nightmares of Mommy bleeding to death), I explained to him that when a girl grows up, her body changes and becomes more womanly, and part of that means that her body gets ready to have babies someday, which includes having periods every month. I explained to him that when a woman has a period, it's only for a handful of days, and the bleeding is coming from her uterus, where babies grow, to keep it healthy and ready for a baby. Sometimes a woman will have some cramps with her period and feel tired or cranky, but for the most part it doesn't hurt and it's not a big deal. Once he knew what it was about, he was totally blase about it, and it was no longer a big deal to him.
So, when we began IUI for our secondary infertility, I explained to Super Boy that there were certain days in my cycle after my period when I'd have to take special medication to help my body get ready for a baby, and then we'd have that special procedure when my body was ready, and then if I DIDN'T get a period at the end of that month, that would mean it worked and there was a baby, but if I DID get a period, then it meant our IUI didn't work and there wasn't a baby in my tummy.
Super Boy also noticed that Daddy had a part in some of the things I had to do at the special doctor. I explained to him that in order to make a baby, there has to be an egg (which comes only from the mom's ovaries, inside her body by her uterus), and a sperm (which comes only from the dad's testicles/penis). So Dad had to give the doctors his sperm, and then the doctors washed out the weak or damaged sperm and only kept the best and strongest sperm, and then the special procedure was to inject Daddy's sperm right into my uterus, where my eggs would be waiting. And if it worked, the baby would grow in my uterus until it was ready to be born.
I should also mention here that Super Boy has always known that he had to come out of my belly in surgery, because he was so big I couldn't push him out. And, like most little kids, he was under the impression for awhile that moms POOP their babies out of their butts, but I explained to him that babies grow in their mom's uterus and then are usually pushed out of their vaginas. But with him, he was big and facing the wrong way in my belly, and he got stuck, so I had to have surgery to get him out. He has seen my C-section scar and knows that that's where he came from.
For the longest time, Super Boy never asked anything more about the process, and then when we had our last IUI in August, Super Boy had to go to the fertility specialist's office with me on the day I had IUI (all of my other IUIs had taken place during the school year and while Super Boy was actually AT school, so he'd never accompanied me to their office before).
On our way to my appointment, Super Boy asked if Dad had gone in earlier to give his sperm, and I said yes. Super Boy knows that Daddy hates needles, and he must've assumed that needles must be involved in getting the sperm out because he said, "I'll bet Dad doesn't like doing that because he doesn't like needles!"
I hemmed and hawed for a minute, and said, "Well, they don't actually use needles to get the sperm, baby."
Of course, his next question was, "Then how do they get it?"
While we had been fairly forthcoming with honest answers to his questions up to that point, I was reluctant to explain the process of masturbation to my sweet 7-year-old son, so I said, "You know what? We'll talk about that another time, ok?"
Being the smart and inquisitive little guy that he is, that answer didn't cut it with him. Still, I told him I had to think about how to answer it and promised him that I would eventually talk to him about it.
As I continued driving, I realized that we really DO need to explain the NORMAL process of how babies are made to him, as well as better explain the process WE had to go through this time, because I was loathe to think that my son would think that all this craziness we've gone through in the past year is the usual route to having a baby! So I said to him, "Honey, pretty soon I will have a talk with you about how babies are USUALLY made, so you don't think that all of this that Dad & I have had to go through is normal, ok?"
Super Boy surprised me by saying, "Oh, Mom, I already KNOW how babies are made most of the time."
...{crickets chirping in the background as my jaw hits the steering wheel}...
"Um... you do?" I asked, hesitantly.
"Yes - of course I know!" he answered smugly.
"Okay... so tell me," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Well, moms and dads have to hug and kiss a lot. And then the sperm swims through the dad's mouth into the mom's mouth and into her belly, and that's how a baby is made," he said, rolling his eyes like I was an idiot for not knowing this.
Squelching my laughter, I realized that we REALLY needed to set that record straight at some point!
So I talked to Super Man about it and shared my concerns with him. He is nowhere near as open or comfortable talking about all of this as I am (even with other adults!), and he's inclined to think that kids don't need to know how babies are REALLY made at Super Boy's age. But I disagree. I think it has to be easier to discuss it with them at an age like this, when they ARE old enough to ask questions and want information but AREN'T yet old enough to be mortified with embarrassment at having the SEX talk with their parents because they're not mentally picturing the whole scenario. And the fact that I've always talked about bodies openly and used proper terminology for parts, and I've always answered his questions honestly and as age-appropriately as possible, has set the stage for Super Boy to not feel self-conscious having conversations with me.
Still, I didn't want to rush a conversation that Super Boy might NOT be ready for. And then I ran across a GREAT reminder of how to have the "where do babies come from" conversation with children, in the form of this book: "Where Did I Come From?" by Peter Mayle and Arthur Robins. I ordered it and it arrived in today's mail.
Now, I remember reading this book when I was a child -- but not because my parents got it for me or would even DREAM of getting it for me! One of my friends had very laid-back hippie parents who were totally open with her and her brother about where babies come from (and everything else), and she had this book. Whenever I would play or sleepover at her house, I was drawn to the book like a moth to a flame, because I'd never seen or heard ANY of that before, and I found it fascinating. I was maybe 8 at the time, and I remember it making me vaguely sick to my stomach, but at the same time, I was really relieved to finally have the information that had been such a mystery up to that point.
I want Super Man to read it before I share it with Super Boy, but I think it does a pretty good job of explaining the parts and mechanics of the whole thing in a straightforward and not too gross or graphic manner. Super Boy already knows about the parts, but he clearly lacks the understanding of what goes where and how A (the sperm) gets to B (the egg) to create C (a baby) under NORMAL circumstances!
I'm curious: How have YOU talked to your other children about this subject? What resources (if any) did you refer to with them? And how did your kids respond?
Before I sign off, I wanted to share another funny story involving this subject, Super Boy and our baby-to-be. A few weeks ago, Super Boy and I were in the car and, totally out of the blue, Super Boy says, "Hey, Mom? Can I be there when you have the baby?"
Me: Do you mean can you be at the hospital when I have the baby or can you be in the room with me?
SB: Can I be in the room with you?
Me {pausing}: Well... If I have another C-section, only Dad and the doctor & nurses will be allowed in the room. But even if I try to have the baby the normal way, I'm not sure if the hospital would LET you be in the room with us because you're so young. And even if they did... honey, you probably don't want to see all that. It's messy and Mom and Dad will be pretty preoccupied trying to get the baby out.
SB: Is there a lot of blood and stuff?
Me: Yes, blood and other stuff. And the baby won't look very good when it first comes out either, before they have clean it up and cut its umbilical cord and all that. {pause} Baby, why do you want to be there?
SB {pausing to think of how to say it}: Well, I just want to see if the baby, like, POPS out or if it SLIDES out.
I LOVE the way kids think. :)
Yours,
SW
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
worrywart
I'll be 11 weeks pregnant tomorrow. :)
Every week that pushes me closer to the end of the first trimester helps me breathe just a little bit easier, but I still feel like tragedy is going to strike and take this baby away from me like it did the last. I know how morbid that seems, and yet, I can't seem to shake it.
Yes, everything about this pregnancy has been different - and BETTER - than the pregnancy I lost in the spring. In my head, I know that and I know things are PROBABLY okay. But without being able to peek at this little one every time I feel like something is going wrong, I worry.
The past two days, I haven't been as tired. My breasts haven't been as tender or felt as swollen. I haven't felt as nauseated. I've had occasional, mild... twinges in my abdomen. No cramping, no bleeding - just twinges. I can't help but think that maybe something has gone wrong.
Then again, it could just be that I'm getting close to the end of the first trimester, and my hCG is finally leveled off or starting to drop as the placenta takes over, and THAT might be why my body feels a little more... normal.
I just don't know. And I won't know until I get to my ultrasound appointment in 2-1/2 weeks.
In case it hasn't become obvious to anyone who has read either of my blogs for any length of time, I HATE waiting. Patience is not a virtue I possess, as ashamed as I am for it. I think I've finally figured out that the reason patience is so hard for me is because I'm a first-rate, four-star, natural-born worrywart. I can worry circles around others. I'm a pro at it. I don't LIKE that I worry so much, about EVERYTHING, but alas, there it is. I've been this way for as long as I can remember, and I have every reason to think I will continue to be this way until death doth me and my horrible worrying tendencies part. It sucks.
I find myself searching for signs of bleeding twice as often this week. Being afraid to lift even baskets of laundry, just in case things have become tenuous in the recesses of my womb. I even briefly considered calling my OB to see if she could do another ultrasound today, just to be sure. But even I realize how alarmist that is when I have one coming up in a mere 17 days and I'm not even cramping or bleeding.
It's frustrating. I'm at the point now where my regular pants just aren't cutting it but all my old maternity pants are ENORMOUS on me at this point, so I was going to go buy a pair of more modern under-belly maternity jeans this week to get me through the next couple of weeks. But I'm so paranoid that something is wrong that I'm reluctant to go spend money on a pair of jeans I might not end up needing. How pathetic is that?
I keep trying to distract myself. I've been cleaning my house like a mad woman, dusting things I haven't touched in ages, reorganizing the stuff on the bookshelves in the living room, etc. It helps keep my mind off my worries about this baby.
It's days like this when I wish I was one of those women whose feathers get ruffled by NOTHING. From my lips to God's ears...
Fretfully yours,
SW
Every week that pushes me closer to the end of the first trimester helps me breathe just a little bit easier, but I still feel like tragedy is going to strike and take this baby away from me like it did the last. I know how morbid that seems, and yet, I can't seem to shake it.
Yes, everything about this pregnancy has been different - and BETTER - than the pregnancy I lost in the spring. In my head, I know that and I know things are PROBABLY okay. But without being able to peek at this little one every time I feel like something is going wrong, I worry.
The past two days, I haven't been as tired. My breasts haven't been as tender or felt as swollen. I haven't felt as nauseated. I've had occasional, mild... twinges in my abdomen. No cramping, no bleeding - just twinges. I can't help but think that maybe something has gone wrong.
Then again, it could just be that I'm getting close to the end of the first trimester, and my hCG is finally leveled off or starting to drop as the placenta takes over, and THAT might be why my body feels a little more... normal.
I just don't know. And I won't know until I get to my ultrasound appointment in 2-1/2 weeks.
In case it hasn't become obvious to anyone who has read either of my blogs for any length of time, I HATE waiting. Patience is not a virtue I possess, as ashamed as I am for it. I think I've finally figured out that the reason patience is so hard for me is because I'm a first-rate, four-star, natural-born worrywart. I can worry circles around others. I'm a pro at it. I don't LIKE that I worry so much, about EVERYTHING, but alas, there it is. I've been this way for as long as I can remember, and I have every reason to think I will continue to be this way until death doth me and my horrible worrying tendencies part. It sucks.
I find myself searching for signs of bleeding twice as often this week. Being afraid to lift even baskets of laundry, just in case things have become tenuous in the recesses of my womb. I even briefly considered calling my OB to see if she could do another ultrasound today, just to be sure. But even I realize how alarmist that is when I have one coming up in a mere 17 days and I'm not even cramping or bleeding.
It's frustrating. I'm at the point now where my regular pants just aren't cutting it but all my old maternity pants are ENORMOUS on me at this point, so I was going to go buy a pair of more modern under-belly maternity jeans this week to get me through the next couple of weeks. But I'm so paranoid that something is wrong that I'm reluctant to go spend money on a pair of jeans I might not end up needing. How pathetic is that?
I keep trying to distract myself. I've been cleaning my house like a mad woman, dusting things I haven't touched in ages, reorganizing the stuff on the bookshelves in the living room, etc. It helps keep my mind off my worries about this baby.
It's days like this when I wish I was one of those women whose feathers get ruffled by NOTHING. From my lips to God's ears...
Fretfully yours,
SW
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