here we are at 25 weeks. the internet tells me this is a huge milestone because of the 'viability' of our boys. yes, they are tiny, but they are strong and beautifully formed and (with the help of the NICU) could survive being born this early. of course that is not our goal or our hope at this time, but it does make mama feel a little better knowing that life outside of the womb is now officially doable. (my goal is to carry the boys to at least 33 weeks.)
at the 24 week ultrasound we found that baby A (I can't wait to tell y'all their names) had an increase in amniotic fluid in his sac. he's always had more than his brothers, but this jump was enough to cause some concern. the increase in fluid could be nothing or it could be a huge problem - only time would tell. my mom and I (can't wait till J is in Michigan with us) were briefed on the treatment option that may be necessary if the fluid kept rising or if any of the babies showed distress because of the high fluid level, and the bi-weekly ultrasounds were changed to weekly. monitoring is key, and I am happy to oblige. I happen to love seeing those little buggers as much as possible anyways. my mom and I both noted that there was not a hint of worry or concern in my midwife's voice as she discussed baby A's fluid levels or the possibility of having fluid tapped at some point. I cannot sing the praises of my MFM office more, you guys. we left feeling calm, cautious, and confident in both God's sovereignty and the badass-ness of our medical team.
week 25 rolled around and it was time for another ultrasound. this was yesterday. my sister joined me this time (love my family), and the ultrasound tech immediately went to work measuring the largest pocket of fluid in baby A's sac. sighs of relief and "thank you, Jesus" could be heard down every hall of the doctors' office. Baby A's fluid was back down to where it had been resting stably for the many weeks prior, and his brothers' fluid levels were just as consistent as ever. strong heartbeats, visible bladders, and strong blood flow were noted for each of our sons.
since our TTTS scare at 18 weeks, I have been chugging Boost like it's going off the market. I'm sure their stock has sky rocketed and Amazon is wondering why they are shipping 24 packs to Michigan every two weeks. drinking a high protein supplement is one of the things the TTTS Foundation instructs mamas to do when TTTS is a concern. even though we've been told by my MFM that there are no signs of TTTS on our radar, I haven't let up on my Boost-chugging.
and so, with this good news carrying us up to cloud 9 we say: thank God and thank Boost.
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babies. Show all posts
Friday, October 7, 2016
Monday, October 28, 2013
babies
I have never been one to dream about having kids or even feel particularly drawn to being around them. many of you know, I'm an old person kind of person. I have always felt drawn to being around the elderly and have geared my life and my career in that direction - the opposite end of the spectrum, some may say. being pregnant has never been something I've looked forward to or even given much thought to. raising a family has always been a vague thing that I know may happen in the future, but by no means has ever been a priority. pretty much the only thing that John and I disagreed on while dating was the fact that he wanted five kids and I wanted zero. in the spirit of compromise, I remember saying something like I'd be ok with two or three. maybe.
but a funny thing happens when someone tells you that you probably "can't" do something. most people get a fire in their belly and a resolve to prove that someone wrong. I can't say that's exactly what happened with me, but having Dr. J tell me about the difficulties, even the impossibilities, surrounding pregnancy and child rearing when you have rheumatoid arthritis made me reflect, search, think, and pray. a lot.
pregnancy with RA is something you have to plan for, calculate, discuss extensively with your doctor, and is essentially void of all mushy love excitement and romance. instead of just John and me deciding we'd like to have children, it'll be John, me, and Dr. J. how romantic. I'll probably recite some poetry and light some candles. maybe even bring some chocolates in a box shaped like a heart.
you see, the medications I'm taking are nothing to be messed with. they're potent and they are toxic. those are good things when you're trying to battle an autoimmune disease, but not so good when you're trying to grow a tiny human being inside of you. these meds will either deform or abort any little guy or gal that tries to take up residence in my uterus. these meds also take a year to completely leave my system. that means we need to tell Dr. J a year or more before we try conceiving and then wait another year for my system to be hospitable to a baby. or, if I get pregnant before having this well-calculated conversation, I rush to the hospital to be pumped full of another medication that will flush my system of the toxic medications. I'm thinking of including that cute little story in the baby book. maybe even include some snap shots of my panicked face or the IV stuck in my arm. ah, memories.
and then there's the inflammation. even on my current medication regime, I still have flare ups. take away those meds and I may go back to square one. if I can't even comb my own hair, how am I supposed to lug around a belly with a baby in it? my knees are pissed at me already. and then, how am I supposed to get up in the middle of the night to care for a crying baby? will I be able to hold my little darling while I feed him or her? will my fingers be able to manage securing a diaper?
so, while I may never have dreamed about having kids and I don't even volunteer in the church nursery or know how to talk to my friends' toddlers, I do want to have a family with John and I do want to experience the miracle of pregnancy and giving birth. the female body is badass, and I want to be a part of that.
just another reason to praise and thank our sovereign and gracious God. He knows what the future holds, how many children are in it, and exactly how this whole process is going to go. hallelujah! because I'm sick of worrying about it.
ps: and yes, we are open to adoption. we'll let God make the call on that as well.
but a funny thing happens when someone tells you that you probably "can't" do something. most people get a fire in their belly and a resolve to prove that someone wrong. I can't say that's exactly what happened with me, but having Dr. J tell me about the difficulties, even the impossibilities, surrounding pregnancy and child rearing when you have rheumatoid arthritis made me reflect, search, think, and pray. a lot.
pregnancy with RA is something you have to plan for, calculate, discuss extensively with your doctor, and is essentially void of all mushy love excitement and romance. instead of just John and me deciding we'd like to have children, it'll be John, me, and Dr. J. how romantic. I'll probably recite some poetry and light some candles. maybe even bring some chocolates in a box shaped like a heart.
you see, the medications I'm taking are nothing to be messed with. they're potent and they are toxic. those are good things when you're trying to battle an autoimmune disease, but not so good when you're trying to grow a tiny human being inside of you. these meds will either deform or abort any little guy or gal that tries to take up residence in my uterus. these meds also take a year to completely leave my system. that means we need to tell Dr. J a year or more before we try conceiving and then wait another year for my system to be hospitable to a baby. or, if I get pregnant before having this well-calculated conversation, I rush to the hospital to be pumped full of another medication that will flush my system of the toxic medications. I'm thinking of including that cute little story in the baby book. maybe even include some snap shots of my panicked face or the IV stuck in my arm. ah, memories.
and then there's the inflammation. even on my current medication regime, I still have flare ups. take away those meds and I may go back to square one. if I can't even comb my own hair, how am I supposed to lug around a belly with a baby in it? my knees are pissed at me already. and then, how am I supposed to get up in the middle of the night to care for a crying baby? will I be able to hold my little darling while I feed him or her? will my fingers be able to manage securing a diaper?
so, while I may never have dreamed about having kids and I don't even volunteer in the church nursery or know how to talk to my friends' toddlers, I do want to have a family with John and I do want to experience the miracle of pregnancy and giving birth. the female body is badass, and I want to be a part of that.
just another reason to praise and thank our sovereign and gracious God. He knows what the future holds, how many children are in it, and exactly how this whole process is going to go. hallelujah! because I'm sick of worrying about it.
ps: and yes, we are open to adoption. we'll let God make the call on that as well.
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