Due Date Eve

So, it's the night before my official (estimated) due date and I'm still very pregnant. The last time I posted, on Tuesday night, what I didn't mention was that while I was writing that post I was having consistent contractions... and was about 60% sure that I was in labor and would be announcing our baby's arrival the next day. After about three hours of contractions that were about 10-15 minutes apart, they started to really slow down and then eventually stopped. I was still hopeful that morning would come and they'd pick right up again, but no luck.

And, since Tuesday I've had a few contractions here and there, but nothing that has been convincing enough to get my hopes up like they did on Tuesday. I know she'll come when she's ready, but since I'm hoping for a successful VBAC, my time is a little bit limited (because of policies and crap like that). So, I had a good, long talk with my baby girl tonight while taking a relaxing bubble bath about how I'm ready for her to come... even tomorrow, on her due date, if she's ready. If she has already inherited the same stubborness of her brother Hugh, then chances are that our little talk had no effect.

But, even if she isn't quite ready, I'm ready to wait patiently for her arrival... knowing that even though it feels like it could still be forever away, the reality is that she'll be here so soon (and I really won't be pregnant forever!). I just can't wait to finally hold her and love her.

Unexpected Mercy

This afternoon Marc came with me to take another quick peek at our growing little Baby Girl. There's a comfort to having him by my side for big moments like this and I feel extra grateful that he takes the time in his busy day to show he thinks it's important, too.

It was a month ago, at my normal pre-natal appointment, that I was told we needed to get a second ultrasound done between 26 and 28 weeks. Initially the midwife told me that the ventricle outflow in the brain wasn't "well-demonstrated." Well, as soon as I got home I hopped onto the internet, which took me on one quick and scary ride through the land of Worst-case Scenarios. After having a mini breakdown at the thought of something going terribly wrong, and possibly losing this little girl, MY Baby Girl, I summoned the courage to call the midwife and get more information. I wanted details, I wanted to know the exact words from the report of the initial ultrasound, I wanted answers to questions I had been too stunned to ask during the appointment.

Once I finally got a hold of the midwife, she read the report in my chart word for word to me over the phone. There was one point where I heard something about "ventricular outflow of the heart." The midwife kept going and I had to stop her to clarify. I reminded her that at my appointment she'd said it was the outflow of the brain. She read it again and then apologized for the confusion and clarified that it was the outflow of the heart that wasn't clearly visible. For some reason that not-so-tiny detail made me less worried. And, really, in the following weeks I felt this calm reassurance that Baby Girl would be just fine.

And, that was exactly what we learned today. We got a good view of the heart and there was good outflow and a good, strong beating heart. Huge relief. We can resume our previously scheduled non-dramatic pregnancy!

The ultrasound tech was being shadowed by an intern today, so after we got the important things cleared up, we were asked if we were okay with the intern taking a turn driving the little wand across my belly. "Sure. Why not?"

So, we got some additional measurements, just for the heck of it, which revealed our little Baby Girl is not so little. She is consistently measuring two weeks ahead of my estimated due date, with her head measuring slightly ahead of everything else. That moment took me back to Hugh's 28-week ultrasound when we found out about his head measuring ahead of the rest of his body parts. We apparently make large headed babies. And, if Baby Girl's growth continues like it did with Hugh, I guess we can expect another baby tipping the scales near another healthy 9 pounds (hopefully not more than that!).

Seeing into my own womb, watching my baby moving around and feeling the kicks simultaneously, getting a tiny glimpse of this little unexpected miracle, made my own heart feel like it might just burst. I was realizing that every one of my babies has come unexpectedly, in moments when we were least expecting or planning. All unexpected, but all the greatest of surprises and true miracles.

It's no wonder the most striking moment from this past weekend's General Conference for my church, was this quote by Elder Holland:

"Surely the thing God enjoys most about being God is the thrill of being merciful - especially to those who don't expect it and especially to those who feel they don't deserve it."

To have been the recipient of God's mercy on more occasions that I dare try to count, makes me want to dig deeper to be better and more deserving of His love and goodness.

25 weeks and counting

I've been terrible at documenting this pregnancy. Life is busy. And, I have to admit that, even though I'm not feeling overly anxious about something going terribly wrong with this pregnancy, I think I tend to keep myself focused on other things to purposely keep my mind from going there. I worry a little about how I'll explain to Baby Girl why I don't have weekly photos of my pregnancy with her (although, I didn't do that with Hugh, either) and why I didn't record more of my feelings during these nine months. So, I'm going to make more of an effort to document more of this, for her sake.

This last Sunday I reached the 25 week mark. To celebrate, my tummy decided to reject everything I'd eaten that day. Throwing up at 25 weeks is not fun. I'm really hoping that night marked the final rendezvous with the dreaded porcelain bowl.

I don't know how much the boys understand what's about to happen, but they pat my tummy and say "baby", as well as understanding that "baby" also refers to a tiny human being. (I should also clarify that they also pat their own tummies and say "baby"... so clearly there's a little confusion still. haha.) Last week, while I was busy making dinner, Hugh came up to me with a ball, trying to stuff it under his shirt and saying "help." So, I helped get that shirt nice and stretched out enough to fit the ball in there. He giggled and then trotted off with his back slightly arched back. Then, of course, Ben had to get in on the fun and brought his ball over with the same request. Funny boys!

I almost wasn't going to include this very unflattering photo of me with the boys, but since when have I ever claimed to live a glamorous life?! This is the real deal, on most days, I tell ya. Tired, pregnant, make-up-less me, just trying to make and keep a happy home. And, actually, I'm totally cool with that.

Here's a more traditional shot of the baby bump, taken two days ago... so roughly at 25 weeks and 3 days. I find it so awkward trying to figure out how to stand for these photos. Do I wrap my arms around my belly? Do I hold it from underneath? Should I put my arms down to the side? Smile at the camera? Look off in the distance? Maybe that's the real reason behind not taking these photos every single week. Too much pressure for this analytical head of mine.

And, I'll leave you with one of my most favorite photos of the boys right now. Sitting on our front porch, Ben wearing Grandpa's beret and Hugh wearing Grandma's newsies cap. Here's the deal, though. This photo is not posed in the least. They are always wearing these hats - as soon as my parents walk through the door, the boys plead/demand to wear their hats. This photo captures so much of their personalities... I love it!!

Daring to dream

Over the last several years I've acquired baby girl clothes here and there. It started the summer of 2003 just after getting our first positive pregnancy test. I never bought a whole lot all at once, just cute little outfits on clearance that I just couldn't pass up. One of the first and still one of my favorites is this white onesie with a subtle little ruffle around the collar and a pair of purple and white gingham pants.

Obviously when we found out the twins were girls, I was thrilled to finally get all those cute clothes out and ready to be spit up on and worn out. Well, clearly, those dreams ended much too soon and once again it was all carefully folded and put away in a safe place, desperately hoping for another chance. Someday.

After Hugh was born and there was a time when we seriously wondered if our family might be complete as is, I debated back and forth about hanging onto all of the girl clothes we had collected. It was starting to feel silly and maybe a little painful, too.

Just the other day I pulled out one of the plastic bins full of girl stuff - clothes, blankets, burp clothes, etc. - and looked at it all with new eyes and new dreams. And, that was more scary than I thought it was going to be.

Expecting a girl, after losing two, has made me feel a little extra cautious in how much I daydream about what it'll be like to have a little girl. Those dreams and visions are hard to bury. So, I've tried to not think too much about the future and have just focused on the present moment as much as possible. But, I'm also able to recognize it's healthy to let my mind and my heart go to that future place where dreams come true and stories have a happy ending.

Something happened today, though, that almost sent me into a complete panic. At my monthly prenatal check-up the midwife casually mentioned that I needed to have a follow-up ultrasound in a few weeks to double check a certain vital organ that wasn't visualized clearly at my ultrasound two weeks ago. She didn't seem concerned and so my immediate response was that it wasn't a big deal. Then, as the day wore on her words kept running through my mind and after some quick google searches I didn't feel so pacified.

After finally getting through to a nurse, to clarify some things and hopefully ease my concerns, there was a brief mention of the possibility I'd have to go down to UCSF for additional testing. I swear to you that just hearing "UCSF" is the most awful sound to these ears... well, and mostly to my heart. I don't have a good track record so far, with my last three babies ending up at UCSF. I really could use a pregnancy that doesn't involve anything having to do with that place. Please?!

Eventually, later this evening, I was able to get in contact with the midwife I saw earlier today and we had a bit more candid conversation about baby girl and her current situation. She was able to answer some of my questions and give me a little more information that helped calm my heart and ease my fears. For now, it appears that the concern with baby girl is just that there were some areas that weren't clearly visible during the ultrasound, perhaps because of positioning, that they just want to get a second peek. So, for now the panic is on hold and will hopefully stay that way for the next 17 weeks.

What I learned, though, in the initial panic of today's news was how much I already love this little girl of mine. And, how much my dreams of what life will be like with her have already made their place in some future reality. And, how I can't wait to see if she'll look like her sisters and what her unique features will be. I've decided it's better to dream of those things I hope for the most rather than giving that space up to fears and worst-case scenarios. Because somewhere and at some point, I really believe all of those dreams will come true.