I surpassed the elusive 24 week mark this weekend, and I can’t believe it. I’ve looked up viability a bit, and this is when the chance of life starts to become greater than 50/50. This is when the NICU docs will fight for my baby to live, because she has a fighting chance. This is when she might be able to come out and live. But I’d rather not. She needs to stay in there for quite a bit longer, keep cooking and growing, for a few more months.
I went to the doctor for a nice boring appointment this morning. My fundal height is right on – 24 cm. Baby Alex’s heartbeat is a nice strong 140, and my blood pressure is 122/78, all good. He approved me to fly to Denver in a few weeks, and gave me a note to carry my shots, so I should be ready to go.
I’ve been reflecting on my pregnancy, and it really has been so easy. Besides the anxiety, which I think I’ve been managing fairly well, everything is good. I don’t feel too awful (besides the minor symptoms), and there have been very little scares after the beginning progesterone and bleeding issues. I’m so very lucky to have made it this far, and I’m just thrilled to be able to carry little Alex around for the next few months. And I really hope this “easy” pregnancy thing continues.
After the doc left my room and I was waiting for the note to be able to fly with shots, I could hear him go into the next room for a patient that was around 24 weeks as well, and everything was fine with her. But then I heard the ultrasound tech tell a nurse in the hallway, “I have a 10-weeker with no fetal heartbeat. Need the doc.” And they all just waited until he was done with the patient, and grabbed the doc to go help the 10-weeker with no fetal heartbeat. That poor woman, sitting in that ultrasound room, waiting for the doctor to come and confirm her baby has no heartbeat, and talk about what to do next. I remember that wait, sitting in the ultrasound room crying and hoping for some miracle, something the doctor would be able to see when the tech couldn’t. I closed my eyes, and wished for that miracle for that unseen patient, or at the very least, some peace. I was thankful though that she was going to have the talk with my doc, he was really good with me when it was my time, and he was great at the D&C.
I made it out of the office after paying and making my next appointment, but when I got to my car, I burst into tears. I cried for that women whose heart is breaking, I cried for my baby that I lost last year in the same way, and I cried with joy that my Alex is alive, and her heart is still beating. I’m so very lucky to be 24 weeks pregnant, and although I didn’t necessarily need a reminder, I certainly got one today.