I had my 2nd sonogram on Tuesday, where I was 6w5d. If you’ve been following this blog, you know that this is the sonogram where I’ve always gotten bad news.
Finally, something different.
I usually can stay pretty calm in between appointments, but this one? I started the countdown a few days out…”Only 96 more hours….only 72 more hours….only 48 more hours…” until it was the night before, less than 12 hours.
I managed to fall asleep early that night, but my husband came to bed late after watching college football. Well, as he went into dreamworld, I came out – and never went back. So, probably from about 1 am until it was time to get up, I tossed and turned in bed all night. I just couldn’t turn off my brain. My nerves were on edge by the morning. Ugh.
We had a little stress getting to the appointment. My husband was running late, and every single minute I was delayed just heaped up more anxiety. Hadn’t I waited long enough??? Finally, I said I would go on ahead and meet him there (we already needed to take separate cars, anyway), figuring I would have to wait before being seen.
Of all days, the RE’s office was empty. I mean, EMPTY. Not one other person ahead of me. Not one other person waiting. They took me in right away. Sheepishly, I asked if there was any way we possibly could wait a few minutes to start the sonogram until my husband arrived??? Please??? Thankfully, it was no problem for them. For me? Just more agonizing minutes waiting on that table…
At that point, it was hard for me to pray. I prayed for good news. I prayed to be strong. On the drive over, all I could do was recite Psalm 23. I didn’t know what else to say. Now, I was just waiting.
Finally, my husband arrived, the sono tech came in, and things got going.
From my past sonograms, I’ve learned to not wait for them to tell you things. Sometimes, they aren’t allowed and have to wait for the doctor. Sometimes, it’s bad news. But I wasn’t having any of it. I started asking lots of questions as she was going – getting ahead of her, actually – but I didn’t care. For better or for worse, I needed to know.
With my first pregnancy, I had an enlarged yolk sac and the fetus was measuring small. Last pregnancy, there was no fetal pole at 6 weeks. So, I began asking about the yolk sac – how does it look?…the fetal pole – was it there? The right size? She confirmed that everything was right where it should be. What about the heartbeat? “I’m still getting there,” she said. (Oops. My bad). “Yes, we have a pulse.” She didn’t tell me the bpm, but on the screen, I think it said 139 (I knew I was supposed to be somewhere between 103 – 125).
Then, she put the sound on so we could hear it.
The first time we ever heard one of our babies’ hearts beating. A surreal moment. We were really listening to the heartbeat. At 6w5d.
She was wrapping things up, and I asked, ‘So everything looks good?” “So far, so good,” she said. “The doctor will go over everything with you.” That worried me for a second, but I tried not to go there.
We met with the doctor, and he confirmed that everything looked good.
Before I go into specifics, let me give a little back-story:
As I was praying the week before my appointment, I was thinking about my last 2 pregnancies…measuring small, slow heartbeat for P#1; measuring 2 weeks behind for P#2. And I said to God, “Lord, I don’t want to measure a little behind this time. I don’t even want to measure on time. I want to measure ahead. Lord, give me one day. I just want to measure one day ahead.”
So, as the doctor was giving me some of the details, he revealed that I was measuring 7w1day while, in fact, I was only 6w5d. I was measuring Three.Days.Ahead. Not one. Three.
As we left the office, I was in tears in the parking lot, trying to explain to my husband what had just happened (I hadn’t told him what I’d been praying). My heart was so overwhelmed by God’s graciousness to me in that moment. Not one day. Three. Considering my past history, that is amazing in and of itself, but I totally took it as a personal gift from God to me. It really made me feel like things might be okay.
So our day went on as usual (I’m back to teaching now), and prior to this appointment, I knew I’d be walking into the school building either in tears or rejoicing. So, so many times for me in the past 2 years, it’s been tears. Uncertain news. Bad news. Finally, finally, it was good news. Finally – rejoicing.
My next sonogram is this upcoming Thursday, where I will be 8 weeks. Again, these are all make-or-break weeks for me. Eight weeks has never been good. Always bad news. But I’m beginning to believe that maybe those days are behind us and we are on to something new. I pray that is the case. I know it’s early. I know we have lots of weeks ahead of us, but it feels so good to have some feelings of optimism and hope going forward.
The doctor is still keeping me on progesterone, estradiol, and lovenox. I’m still have nausea on a mostly-daily basis, several times throughout the day (although nothing too severe). I’ll be honest. I’m grateful for the nausea. I never felt it with any of my previous pregnancies, and I will embrace any difference and not complain, not even if I feel nauseated every single day of this pregnancy.
There definitely are times when my fears try to get the best of me, and I am fighting that with all I have. As so many of you have reminded me – fear is never from the Lord!
I am trying to force myself to take one day at a time – not to worry about tomorrow, and let tomorrow take care of itself. I am reminding myself that there will always be something to worry about – even if all goes well; the worry doesn’t stop after the baby is born. Worry is not my friend, and it needs to go, one way or the other.
I pray constantly for this baby – any moment I have a break in my thoughts – and I know that is all I can do. It is the best thing I can do.
For those of you who have prayed for me – thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t know how to adequately express how incredibly grateful I am for your prayers. And please – keep praying!
For those who know me in ‘real-life’ – we are still keeping this quiet, although more people know than I would like! I am happy to share and talk about it with those who are interested enough to follow my blog – as long as we are having a private conversation! :)
So it’s more waiting. More hoping. More trusting. I might as well get comfortable with that. It doesn’t look like that is changing anytime soon (for any of us). Always the bottom line: Wait. Hope. Trust.
[Photo Credit: Dana Arcuri]