Last Friday, we hit the half-way point with this little munchkin: 20 weeks pregnant. We also saw the doctor for our anatomy scan, and good news abounds. All of his measurements (yes, still definitely a "him" -- our boys love to show off the goods for the camera!) are spot on. He's at the 63rd percentile for size, and I'm hoping he stays at that level instead of being a newborn toddler like his singleton brother. Although he's ultimately exiting via the sunroof, carrying around a 10+ pound fetus is not what I'm talking about. The cervix that gave me so much trouble during my twin pregnancy is long and closed and showing no signs of early shortening. The doc isn't worried about it because of my previous success carrying a singleton and won't check again unless I insist. Which I might. But combined with test results putting our babe in the lowest risk categories for Down Syndrome and Cystic Fibrosis, we left the office happy. Well, except for the fact that we had to wait two hours to be seen. But I'm sure the OB could tell through my smile and "that's okay!" when she apologized that I was severely pissed and would not tolerate that in the future.
In the lower ultrasound picture, you can see the lens on his left eye. Isn't that freaky? I mean, in a "I will still love my baby even if he's a cyborg" kind of way.
At this point, I am feeling much better physically. My appetite is picky at times, but the nausea is all but faded. I am tired, but I have three kids under the age of four, how could I not be tired? I have gained about 10 pounds so far, which is fine, but I weakly succumb to my intense sugar/carb cravings, so I fear I either have gestational diabetes or 30+ more pounds waiting for me in the third trimester. Place your bets, everyone!
I also thought I'd finally take a minute to answer a question I get asked a lot: Does this pregnancy help heal the wounds of past struggles because it was not the result of infertility treatments? (Okay, only my Mom asks me that. But she's asked several times now.)
The answer: Not really. Not yet.
Let's first go back to the day I found out I was pregnant. Because this pregnancy was not exactly planned, I didn't have the HAPPY-HAPPY-JOY-JOY reaction that I always imagined I'd have if we achieved unassisted pregnancy. It was almost like, "Really, God? Really? Now? After all we've been through?" I realize this is not a popular answer for the IF crowd, but it's honest -- I was very conflicted, worried about how a new baby would affect our family. I could hardly speak or function for days after seeing a positive on the home pregnancy test, as it all sunk in. Of course this pregnancy is a blessing, and after processing it, I am thrilled and grateful to be completing our family with the fourth baby I started longing for after the twins were born. But my initial concerns about the timing of this birth and the strain on our already strained family overshadowed the pure glee I would have felt to experience the more traditional hey-let's-make-a-baby-hooray-now-we-are-pregnant route.
But I think the main reason this pregnancy doesn't feel different is that we are still waiting for our grand result: The Baby. Even though I'm thankful to have achieved conception without medical aid, I feel like I can't really declare this pregnancy a success until I'm snuggling my newborn in my arms. We already know that after receiving help with conception, my body can carry a pregnancy to term and produce a healthy baby. And praise God for that! But what about when the baby is made from just me and hubs, au natural? There were artificial drugs involved in boosting my eggs for previous pregnancies, and only the Best of the Best of DH were allowed to come to the party. It makes me worry that this pregnancy is more fragile, that there is more of a chance something can go wrong, because our two parts (mainly my part, really) are weaker without the assistance.
How's that for being scarred by infertility?
So I guess the short answer is that hopefully this baby will be healing for me, but it's too early for that. And I'm grateful to have one last little man to hold, love, raise, and share with the world, regardless of how it all came to be.
Navigating my mid-30s with five fabulous men at my side: my dear husband (DH), our first grader (Bean), our pre-K twins (Nix and Gax), and a spunky toddler (Littlest). Stick around for blogging about parenthood after infertility, trashy romance novels, the quest for the perfect cupcake, and my newfound love of the Pacific Northwest.