Well, it’s been an emotional week for us here.
I have been sick. Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick. So sick that this social media addict would just lie in bed all day and occasionally check her twitter. Too sick to tweet is not a good place to be.
I had a terrible cough, headaches, the works. Guys came over to install new carpet and didn’t even change out of my pajamas.
I also had a freak-out when I couldn’t find Baby B and took myself to Labor and Delivery. For the record, if you show up at your local, rural hospital’s maternity ward and announce that you’ve got Parvo, they are going to freak the frick out. I’m talking a mask in the waiting room, and an isolation room with a giant fan that I’m pretty sure they’ve never used before–the works. Turns out we were good–Baby B had decide to room with Baby A, so they were both on the same side of my stomach. I think Baby B is going to be a trouble-maker.
I had a lot of people come and help me, which was lovely, but I could take the worst mother of year category. I actually miss Charlie and we’ve both been here all week.
So, today! Appointment! I had my friend Amy come with me in case the news was bad. She’s a nurse, so she’s good with people and not scared of giant pregnant bellies covered in goop or anything.
So the way it works is, they look at the big artery in the brain–the cerebral middle artery. They look at it, measure the way blood flows through it, and if it’s pumping really hard, that shows that the baby is anemic and it’s heart probably won’t be able to sustain that level for an entire pregnancy. That’s when they have to start doing crazy stuff with giant needles–stuff like blood transfusions in the womb. Stuff that can lead to spontaneous miscarriages. Oy.
So, now that you’ve got the science lesson, here’s the deal: Baby A is incredibly average. This is good. Baby B is high. Not go-run-and-grab-the-giant-needle high, but high enough that the doctor made this appointment on Thursday instead of Friday in case we needed to do a procedure on Friday. Luckily, B stayed in the exact same spot, so we’re not looking at a case of runaway anemia. I am relieved. It’s not a perfect scenario, but it’s one that I’m happy with. I also convinced my doctor to prescribe me some antibiotics, so hopefully this plague will leave my house. See also: high-risk docs are stingy with the drugs.
I still have to go back for weekly ultrasounds until I hit 34 weeks, but I feel good about things. This week was the hardest–the babies weren’t viable, so the options are limited and risky. By next week, I’ll be 24 weeks, which is the beginning of viability. I surely don’t want them to arrive at 24 weeks, but I’m relieved to see that date on the horizon.
Thank you for all the kind words, encouragement, and cheers this week. It’s been a tough one. We still have a lot of weeks of “checking,” so please don’t take us off your prayer lists, but my heart is lighter. Also, I’ve got tons of Charlie goodness to share, so come back and check on us soon.