Week 13 - Good news!

We returned to the perinatologist (not paleontologist, as I'm apt to call him) and he said everything looks great. The hemorrhage has healed and there is very little evidence of separation with the placenta. He gave me clearance to resume exercising and living normally.

The stats
heart rate: 155 beats a minute
CRL (crown to rump length): 72.7 mm

Baby Conner is one active child! The tech had a hard time getting BC to stay still long enough for photos. And just as I said, "I sure wish I knew if BC was a boy or a girl," the baby curled into the tightest position as if to say, "I ain't showing you nuthin!"

Latest Baby Image

Baby Conner's head is to the left. It was much easier to see his/her arms and legs when he/she was flailing, but you get the idea.

Jumping Mexican Bean

Last Thursday, I had my monthly ob/gyn check up, and boy was it exciting. The dr couldn't find the heartbeat using the traditional ultrasound, so she did an internal ultrasound just to be safe. As soon as she located the baby, Baby Conner began waving his/her arms, kicking his/her legs and jumping. In fact, I think Baby Conner might be a long-jumper based on how he/she'd go from end of the uterus to the other.

Dr didn't do any measurements, but the important issues were covered: Baby Conner is growing, still has a heart beat and is quite active.

I have been bleeding some since Saturday, but it appears to be the old blood that was trapped in my uterus. The perinatologist had told us to expect some bleeding and not to be alarmed unless I also had cramping. We'll return to the perinatologist March 31 to find out if the bleeding in the uterus has dissolved, disappeared or stayed the same.

Conversation with Rachel

Yesterday I called Rachel to get her new phone number (she's moving on Saturday) ...

me: hi, Miss Rachel. It's Brittany

Rachel: oh, hello my love! How are you? How are you feeling?

me: good, I'm doing really well.

Rachel: good. Now I ask you, what are you wearing?

me: I'm wearing pants but they're not tight, I promise! (I've bought a belly band and was wearing that, but didn't explain this to Rachel since she probably hates spandex, too).

Rachel: Are you sure? Because if you are wearing tight clothes I won't talk to you again.

me: I promise, Miss Rachel. Do you want me to put my co-worker on the phone? She'll verify this for me.

Rachel: Why are you laughing? This isn't funny. You'll choke the baby. 

me: Miss Rachel, the baby is fine. I'm fine. We're doing great.

Rachel: ok, ok. You probably shouldn't be at work, either. You need to lay down right now.

Old Lady Rant

I visit an elderly Jewish lady once a week, and already she has shared a plethora of advice - some of it cute, some unfounded, but all spoken with care. This past Saturday I was preparing to leave her home when she called me to her. I expected a farewell hug, but instead I received a pants inspection. She lifted the end of my shirt, pulled my waistband from my tummy and announced I was "sqooishing" the baby. She wagged her finger as she berated me for wearing such tight clothing. I promised to take them off as soon as I got home, but she wasn't satisfied. She unbuttoned the top button and made me leave it that way as I left her home.

I'm in that in-between stage when I've outgrown my normal clothes but haven't grown enough for maternity clothes. If Miss Rachel has her way, I'll be wearing mumus and sweat pants every where I go.

All that bubbles and fizzes

I laid in bed this morning for more than an hour trying to decipher the low throbbing and occasional cramps I was feeling. "Is this more cramping and hemorrhaging? Is it tummy-related, or uterus-related? Ohh .. was that one worse than the one I felt a minute ago? Should I get up or stay in bed?" So went my thinking pattern.

And then I remembered: oh, yes. That's just last night's Taco Bell meal talking back to me.

Oh the joys of second-guessing everything and worrying about each symptom.

9 weeks and counting

Today I'm 9 weeks pregnant and baby Conner is now the size of an olive. This is ironic because I HATE olives and Mike has been waiting for the day that I start to crave these greenish orbs. Hasn't happened yet and doubtfully will.

Yesterday and today I've had a break from the nausea that plagued me last week. I've been able to eat just about anything, and as long as I eat frequently then I'm ok.

One thing that's been a challenge is the restrictions I'm under regarding exercise. The perinatologist put me on pretty strict orders to do nothing strenuous, including most forms of exercise. I look forward to warm days when I can at least take afternoon walks.

Still no cramping or any other physical indication that things ain't right. Once again we praise God for one more day, one more week, one more milestone.

Contrast in Responses

Mike and I have been on the infertility bandwagon for a number of years and have tried numerous paths to have a family. In 2006, we began fostering a toddler boy who we had the privilege to love and nurture for 9 months. We actually began to hope we would be able to adopt him, but in Feb. 2007, we received news that social services was going to place him in a family that could adopt him and 2 of his half-brothers.

I think this was the first time I recall going through every phase of grief - but not in a good way. I bargained with God, pleaded with Him, refused to accept the decision, fought against the decision, waited for God, grew impatient with Him and tried to "fix" the situation myself, and finally resigned myself to the decision. I was left broken, bitter, angry and completely separated from God. It took me a full year to realize that what had happened probably was the best result for our foster son, and that God wasn't some cold-hearted being who delighted in my suffering. 

Nearly 2 years to the day that we lost our foster son, we received news that the precious baby for whom we had prayed and embraced was on the verge of being lost by us, too. This time, though, I found myself running to God. Even as I drove across town bleeding and cramping, I put on a praise CD and kept repeating, "Even in this I trust You, even in this." 

I still pray this pregnancy will continue through the 9th month and that our baby will remain healthy and strong during his or her hibernation. But I've come to trust that whatever the outcome, I can lean on God and trust His heart.