I Needed a Sign

I stood in the driveway, just moments after the rain stopped, crying, pleading for a rainbow. I needed a sign that our baby was going to be okay. But a rainbow never came.

This past week, I've struggled a lot. I hate to complain about pregnancy because I wanted this so incredibly bad but I never expected to struggle so much.

With Avery's cord issue, my anxiety has been through the literal roof. Because we've had so many losses, I have been defaulting to expect to lose him too. I know it's not healthy and I wish I could get out of my own damn head but every day I find myself saying "please just let me keep him."

Last Friday broke me. Avery was his normal self at 5 am, up and ready for the day, kicking away. But then it just stopped. I felt extra heavy in my lower belly and was doing everything I could to wake him, make him move, even just a little. I chugged cold water, drank caffeinated tea, ate a bunch all day, and got no reaction. Everything that normally triggers him to throw a few jabs, didn't. By 1 pm, I had laid down three times trying to prompt him to move and the most I felt was a little flutter really low. Not his normal movements of trying to punch through my belly button, or making me almost pee myself kicking my bladder.

I called my OBGYN and they advised us to go to Labor and Delivery right away! I mentioned he usually kicks 10 times within 3-6 minutes and I felt maybe 2 flutters over the course of 8 hours. I cried from the second I got off the phone with them, during the entire hour drive to the hospital and until we were discharged by L&D. I was expecting the worst. Luckily, Avery was fine. They did a non-stress test for 20-30 minutes, checking his heart rate and my uterus for any contractions. Everything looked perfect. The second they put the monitors on me, he kicked them. Even the nurse was surprised how strong of a kick it was. Why he couldn't do that while I was panicking all day, is beyond me. They don't have any explanation as to why he spent the entire day sleeping but it was the longest day of my life.

Just recovering from Friday was hard, I couldn't sleep, I felt hyper aware of his movements, was kick counting constantly and trying to reassure myself that he was okay. Honestly, I'm still paranoid and keeping a close eye on his movements and positions and constantly making sure he's reacting to his trigger foods. I feel like a complete basket case.

Sunday rolled around and we spent the day with Adams parents, they helped us clean up from our shower, organizing the nursery and packing our hospital bags. Ever since that Friday, I have been determined to have everything ready for our next appointment, which happened to be the following Thursday. I was convinced they were going to take him early. I needed to be ready. After busting my ass all day, I noticed pink discharge in my liner. I called Labor & Delivery again and was like "I know we were just there on Friday but, now I'm getting bloody discharge and I'm freaking out." With our previous losses, I spotted a lot, but with this pregnancy I haven't had the slightestttt spotting, until Sunday. They advised me to keep an eye on it and if it gets worse to come in. Luckily it only showed up that one time. I don't know if I was doing too much that day or what but it just ended up being another thing to be worried about. It took me the last seven months and seeing a therapist to stop expecting to see blood in my underwear every single time I went to the bathroom. Having that level of PTSD from our losses has made every bathroom break gut wrenching. I thought I had made it past that, but here we are again, right back to where we started.

By the time Monday rolled around, I felt like I was hit by a bus. I felt (and still feel) completely drained. I haven't been able to get a good nights sleep and I'm up all day chatting with Avery and poking around to make sure he's good.

Jumping ahead, we had an ultrasound Thursday to check his cord again. That morning I felt panicked that the dishes weren't done, my bag was half packed, and our bed wasn't made. I spent the morning panic cleaning and packing. If he was going to come out today, I needed the house to be spotless. It was while I was doing the dishes that it started to pour. I was halfway done when the rain stopped and the sun came out. So I ran outside. I asked for a sign that our baby was going to be okay, I desperately searched the sky for a rainbow. I spun around in the driveway, over and over again hoping I'd catch a glimpse of one, a sign that would tell me he'd be okay. The more I looked around the more I cried. I didn't see a rainbow anywhere in sight. I pleaded with the universe, "please just give me a sign that he'll be okay" and I got nothing. So there I stood, in the middle of our driveway, sobbing. It confirmed that I needed to finish cleaning and packing and preparing for the worst. I cried the entire drive to the appointment.

Our ultrasound tech is the same girl we've had the last three times so I was super happy to see her as she usually gives us hints as to how he's doing before the Dr. comes in. She measured his cord and checked his blood flow, brain, amniotic fluid and heart (heart rate was 145) and all looked good! Adams become a pro at reading the measurements and was able to do the math when she measured his cord (since she can't tell us). His cord went from 11 mm to 11.5 mm in two weeks. The check prior to the last one, he went from 9 mm to 11 mm in two weeks so the growth has definitely slowed. I sighed the biggest sigh of relief. She didn't measure his body at all, said that it was too close to our last appointment to show any real growth but that they'll measure him at our next apt in a week. We were able to see him throw a few good kicks that made her gasp at how strong he was which always makes me feel better! She also went out of her way to show us his little profile and got some cute pictures of his little nose and lips.

I had kept my composure up until the Dr came in to go over the results, but my heart spilled open on her. We have never met her before but she felt safe to unload on, so I did. I told her my fear of him dying in utero and how I would not survive if we lost him too. I told her how anxious I've been, how I'm not sleeping, have no appetite and spend the entire day paranoid if he doesn't move. I didn't tell her that I've been nesting like a lunatic and steam cleaning the curtains so that if he comes early he'll have perfectly pressed curtains waiting for him (because babies care about friggin curtains) but I did tell her I was doomsday prepping. I told her how out of control I feel. I told her I just wanted him out, that I don't feel like my body is safe for him anymore, that he'd be safer outside of me than in. She didn't judge me, didn't make me feel stupid for feeling all the feels, she just reassured me that he was doing great and she doesn't want to take him early. She said his organ functions are perfect, there's no sign of turbulent flow in his cord, or blood clots. She even explained and showed me what they look for during the ultrasound, so that I could see it for myself. She reassured me that he’s safer being in than being out. She let me sob and comforted us by explaining that she's had other patients with this issue and none of them lost their babies (some even going full term!). Before she left, she held my hand and said "I know this isn't covid protocol but I just wanted to hold you to let you know you'll be okay." She probably has no idea how much I needed that.

Unlike the previous doctor we saw two weeks ago, who said he'd want to check me every four weeks, she said she'd like us to come in once a week until we're 37 weeks. Just to help ease my mind and keep a close eye on Avery. I felt sooo relieved knowing I wouldn't be tormented with waiting every two weeks (or even four!) to know he's okay. She also said that we could schedule to be induced by 37 weeks, just so we have that date in the calendar...just in case. I felt so much safer knowing that she had a plan and was willing to meet us halfway with getting him out in time to survive. She reminded us that he's still tiny and needs to develop the rest of his brain and lung functions but that by 37 weeks, he would be okay to come out. We actually got to watch him "practice breathing" on the ultrasound, which was pretty cool. You could see his diaphragm moving in and out like he was actually breathing. But obviously his lungs aren't developed enough to breathe outside yet and she said it would make things a lot more complicated for him if he came out now.

After talking to her, I felt a lot better and a little more confident in my body's ability to keep him safe. I still cried the entire rest of the night and am emotional writing this but I feel a little less out of control than I did that day. I literally puked on my desk, haven't slept in months and have under eye bags under my under eye bags. My skin looks like death and I complain almost the entire day (sorry husband) about how uncomfortable I am. This journey has not been anything I ever dreamt it would be, but my baby is okay...today, so I am grateful. Taking it day by day is the only thing that's allowed me to get this far. It may not be the perfect pregnancy, but the end goal is to hold my perfect little baby at the end.

I never did get that sign, and I honestly don’t know what I believe in anymore, other than myself. We’ve made it this far, so I must be doing something right.

We have appointments scheduled for every Monday until October 25th! I'm sure I'll be posting with major updates, it may take me a while to gain the composure to write it all out but I will eventually!

I feel like a broken record for saying THANK YOU so much but honestly, I can't thank you all enough for praying, sending positive vibes and checking in on us so often. Our village is so strong and I'm forever grateful for the spiritual and physical help we've received. I love you all xoxo

Skye