Laurie, Robin, and Holden's Birth Story

Since my due date was Feb. 19, I had been purposefully planning things between now and then. I had an observation scheduled tomorrow, knitting club and yoga on Saturday, Lydia's Valentine's Day pizza lunch at school... Earlier in this pregnancy, I had felt like our little boy would not make it to his due date. As the date approached, however, I began to assume he would be late, and I feared that my body wouldn't go into labor on its own at all.

Wednesday was a hard day for lots of reasons, and because Robin had commitments until about 9:30 that evening, I called our friend Casey to come hang out with Lydia and I while we made her Valentines for school. I kept saying things like "Since I might be pregnant for two more weeks..."

Enter 6 AM. Actually, back up. We very rarely sleep with Lydia. However, last night, a running mind kept me awake, and when Lydia called and said she was scared around 3 in the morning, I decided that, since our days as a family of three were numbered, I would go sleep with her. I laid with her and we snuggled, and soon, we were both asleep. At about 6:10, still laying in her bed, I woke to a popping feeling in my low belly, followed by some intense cramping that wrapped around to my back. Still in a sleepy fog, I realized as I felt a sudden gush that this might be labor and that, while I had overslept, going to school was not going to be in the cards today. I woke Robin, asked him to call his sister and let her know that we would need her to come get Lydia, placed a request for a sub--my long-term sub had a prior commitment today--and began making the important calls--to the clinic, to our doula, to my parents to inform them that Lydia would likely need to be picked up from school today.

Meanwhile, contraction #2 happened at about 6:35-40. This was comforting; I began to trust that my body would go into labor on its own as it had with Lydia and we wouldn't be up against an "expiration date" due to my water breaking before labor had started. I felt giddy and excited, and we quickly packed a bag--something I had been putting off--and debated going in to the hospital right away. As we waited for Heidi to pick up Lydia, I realized that my contractions albeit quite manageable, were getting closer and closer together so keeping in mind all of the stories of second labors going so much faster than first and knowing that Lydia arrived in a speedy six hours, we decided to head to the hospital with the intention of leaving if labor wasn't progressing the way we wanted it to.

I quickly started to rely on leaning over and supporting myself on the bed, sofa, etc., and making low noises in an effort to stay relaxed. I swayed like we do in prenatal yoga. It was easy to keep my mind off of panic and anxiety with Lydia running around. She was so giddy and sweet, and I knew that the next time I saw her, we would be a family of four. Heidi came, Robin got Lydia into her car, and we headed to Abbott-Northwestern. Watching the clock, I felt like we had made the right decision in going to the hospital; I was also enjoying the lack of panic in our drive; when we drove to the hospital with Lydia, I was in a lot of pain and I didn't have a handle on what was going on. This time, my contractions, while feeling more intense, were still very manageable, and I had more confidence. We arrived at the Mother-Baby Center at about 7:35, left our car in the turnaround with the intention of Robin going down to pick it up once we were settled, and headed up to the Maternal Assessment Center. I was weighed, celebrated that I had stayed under my weight-gain goal, and got onto the bed to be monitored. Baby's heartbeat looked good and he was responding well to contractions.

Then...the exciting part. The nurse checked my cervix and announced that we were at seven centimeters! She unplugged the monitors and sent us to the birthing wing; they held off on asking me intake questions or doing anything deemed unnecessary. From that point on, the nurses took it upon themselves to support me in labor. It was incredible. They helped me get into the position I preferred for contractions--my hands and knees--and rather than force me to wear the heartrate monitor on a belt, the nurse held it in place during contractions. After going through a few and deeming the baby as doing well, they took me off the monitors and allowed me to labor as I wished, free of cords and belts. Contractions were definitely becoming more intense, and Robin was doing an incredible job of supporting me, hugging me tightly between contractions and rubbing my back during them.

At some point during this time, Brook, our doula arrived. She quickly found a spot on the side opposite Robin, and I continued to labor on my hands and knees. As I began to feel the urge to push, the midwife did another cervical exam. She did the exam while I was on my hands and knees rather than making me flip over and labor on my back. She determined that I had yet to reach complete dilation; there was still an anterior lip she could feel, so she asked that I hold off on pushing. This was definitely the hardest part. Brook explained that pushing could cause the lip to swell and actually slow down progress, so I worked hard to relax through contractions and allow my body to do the work it needed to do. I took deep breaths, thought "one breath at a time," and made low moaning sounds on the exhales. The midwife strongly encouraged me to lay on my left side to encourage progress; first I opted to stay on my hands and knees, and then, when she said it might reduce the urge to push, I took her suggestion.

At that point, Robin would push on my hip during contractions and Brook would hold my hands. I was feeling really warm, so I had cold washcloths on my head and neck, and Brook and the nurse fanned me to help me cool off. Contractions were definitely getting more intense, and I was fighting the urge to push. I continued with my yoga breathing, with low moaning sounds, and kept my mind in the moment. I allowed myself to verbalize my feelings between contractions and found that by the time the words passed my lips, I had processed and come to peace with any feelings of anxiety or panic. Then, all of a sudden, I really felt like pushing was no longer something I couldn't do. The midwife did another check, saying that she would try to push the lip back if it was still there, and in the midst, I started pushing. I think she said it was okay to start, though I'm not sure. I pushed gently at first, following my body's lead. As I remembered with Lydia, pushing was such a relief. I had something to do with contractions rather than just manage them. I did not, however, remember how intense it got when the baby was actually ready to come out. I managed to continue to follow my body's lead, and my body was saying, "PUSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!" I was still laying on my left side, and at some point, I determined that I could NOT keep my top leg down anymore, so up it went. Brook stood and supported my leg with her shoulder. There I pushed for about twenty minutes and suddenly, the baby's head was out.

I had requested that, if possible, I catch the baby, but the position I was in made that difficult and I wasn't in the frame of mind to do so. I had specified that if I was not able, I would love for Robin to have the opportunity, so after the midwife situated the baby, I pushed some more, and at 9:21 AM, roughly three hours after the onset of labor and less than thirty minutes of pushing, Robin caught our son. He was placed immediately on my chest, and I felt immense, immense relief. This roller coaster of a pregnancy was over, and we had a big, pink, crying little boy. He was covered in white vernix, had a head of thick dark hair, and felt so wonderfully snuggly. When Lydia was born, I was really overwhelmed; I couldn't believe we actually had a child. With Holden, I just felt gratitude and love. Gratitude for his immediate, apparent thriving health and love for this little boy whose journey to the outside brought with it so much emotional challenge and growth for me.

The nurses and midwife respected all of our requests. They did all procedures with Holden laying on me, they waited for his cord to stop pulsing, they respected my wish to decline pitocin after delivery, and when it became apparent that my bleeding was enough to warrant pitocin, they engaged in a dialogue with me about it rather than informing me what I "needed" to do. Brook continued to massage my legs and feet, and I felt so, so nurtured, respected, and cared for. Abbott-Northwestern has somewhat of a bad rap amongst the natural/normal childbirth community, and in our experience with the HealthPartners midwives at Abbott, we felt incredibly supported in our wishes for a drug-free, minimal intervention birth. As I've compared Holden's birth to Lydia's, Holden's was so much more hands-off and centered around Robin and me. They did not automatically bathe him, they left us to be as a family, and many of their assumed procedures were things that, in Texas, we had to specify. They waited nearly an hour to weigh and measure him, letting us snuggle instead and now, thirteen hours after birth, Holden has yet to leave our sight. 

We spent the day as a group of three, and shortly after five, my parents, Lydia, Heidi, and my brother Markus came to meet the newest addition. There is so much more to be said, pictures to share, reflections to be made, but right now, I am feeling such overwhelming peace, gratitude, joy, and love, I am going to leave it at this--the amazing story of Holden's birth. I couldn't have asked for any better.

Introducing...

Our sweet Valentine, Holden Jay Ganser! Born at 9:21 AM on February 14, 2013, weighing in at a hefty 9 lbs., 8 ozs, measuring 20 1/2", and adjusting to life on the outside beautifully. We are so in love!

Nursery Progress: Put a Bird on It

The infamous crib has been finished! Robin added the final coat of paint and assembled it this evening, and it is GORGEOUS. I am so proud of him and so thankful for his skill! Lydia is clearly very excited about it. I'm trying to soak up her pure elation at the thought of this baby before he arrives and she realizes that life is going to change pretty dramatically; rebellion is sure to follow.

The mobile is a collaborative effort between Robin and me (with some help from my dad gathering the pieces of wood in my parents' backyard.) I sewed the birds from a pattern found here with fabric from Crafty Planet and mounted them on the sticks with a hot glue gun. Robin then hung and balanced them with fishing line and eye hooks. We have a handful more projects on the line, but two involve the baby's name (which is top secret), and we'll see what actually gets done before he decides to become an outside dweller.

In the meantime, I am resting more easily because the basics are pretty much covered. His diapers are washed and organized--yes, we're going the cloth route. His clothes are sorted by size and the newborn clothes are in bins in the closet, which has been cleared of other debris. The Pack 'n' Play is set up as a bassinet in our room, and the car seat will be installed this weekend and inspected next week. If Baby G2 came tomorrow, we'd survive!

Bump in the Rump (and BPP #4)

Thursday was Baby G2's fourth Biophysical Profile and Non-Stress test. They also did a second set of growth measurements. He passed everything with flying colors--again. In fact, he's currently at the 79th percentile of growth, up from the 64th at our last growth scan at 32 weeks. There is a large margin of error when measuring growth by ultrasound at this point in a pregnancy, but at minimum, we are assured that the little guy is not experiencing any growth restriction due to his wonky umbilical cord. I also realized I may have to kiss my hopes of an 8 lb. baby goodbye and come to terms with the idea that pushing out a second nine-pounder could well be in my future. We joked that maybe instead of monitoring for growth restriction, we should be making sure he doesn't get too massive.

Thursday was also supposed to be my the first meeting of my final class at Augsburg. I raced from the clinic to Lydia's school, picked her up, brought her home for a snack, and then loaded her in the car again. (Robin was not able to get home in time, so our plan was to meet at Augsburg and hand her off so that I could get to class.) Note, I said "supposed to be." As we were driving down Lyndale and about to merge onto Interstate 94, I felt a sudden jolt. We were not moving due to bumper-to-bumper traffic, and I was caught pretty off-guard; Lydia was also very confused as to what had happened. The man driving the pick-up truck behind us rolled by and pulled into a parking lot, and I got out. He immediately began blaming the incident on the person behind him--the cars lights weren't on--spewing profanity and racial slurs (because obviously the person's lights weren't on because of their ethnicity and obviously, he rear-ended me because there was a car behind him without headlights, and obviously, the presence of a three-year-old warrants excessive use of every potentially offensive word known to human-kind) and at no point apologizing or asking if I was okay, despite the fact that I am visibly pregnant and had a three year old in the car. I could tell right away that the car was fine and Lydia was fine, and I got on my way as quickly as possible. Lydia was very upset that the person hadn't followed driving directions; "You're not supposed to hit a car with another car!!!" She also later told Robin her hip hurt because "car accidents make your body hurt."

I called the clinic immediately, hoping they would say, "Just monitor movement and make sure you're not experiencing contractions or leaking fluid," but to my dismay, they asked that I come in. Commence four more hours of non-stress testing (and obviously, missing my first class meeting). (Conversations with my midwife and knowledge of fellow mamas' previous experience with similar protocol definitely made me feel like complying with their recommendations was the way to go.) Baby was moving all over the place, putting on his best NST performance ever. His heartrate appeared on the monitor like a roller-coaster track.

I was more interested (and a little caught off-guard) by contractions that I wasn't feeling. The midwife asked if I could feel them and didn't seem too concerned (and I noticed that when I dozed off they stopped immediately, so I'm wondering if they had more to do with my fatigue and stress than anything.) Moreso, I'm realizing that the baby might actually come before February 19 (or after--here's hoping). Thus, Robin was left at our house with a very strong request to actually finish the crib he is building, and I made a Target run to pick up things we will definitely need. Project for tomorrow will be to pack a hospital bag. I'm not term for another week and a half, and the Forty Week mark is still a month away, but at least to ward off Murphy's Law, we're going to try to be a little more action-ready.

I took the next morning off because I was fairly confident that a 5:30 wake-up time following my one-in-the-morning bedtime wouldn't be such a great mix and would mean that my students would be better off with a sub than me, and by the end of yesterday, any achiness and tension in my back and neck had mostly subsided. Now I'm just left hyper-sensitive of any tightening in my belly after watching my uterine activity for 240 glorious minutes.

BPP #3 plus a Birth Plan!

On Thursday I kept my usual date with the HealthPartners midwives and went in for our third Biophysical Profile and Non-Stress Test. Baby G2 set a record, scoring an 8/8 on his BPP in 5 minutes and whipping through the Non-Stress Test with no problems. I have learned to ask for iced apple juice before even starting the NST, and this seems to get him moving more than quickly, resulting in a great NST reading immediately; I recorded thirty movements in 30 minutes and Baby G2 gave us an ample amount of heart rate accelerations--the thing they look for on an NST. I don't remember Lydia ever being as active as this baby in utero. What does this mean for his personality once in the outside world?!?! Lydia keeps us on the go as it is!

The other substantial part of this appointment involved talking with the midwife about my hopes for birthing. I was very nervous about this conversation, as I'd gotten the impression that the Single Umbilical Artery would be cause for continuous monitoring throughout labor and would require us to go in to the hospital earlier than I would like. I'd done lots of research and had only found one article indicating that SUA automatically warrants these things, so I was prepared to ask lots of questions and request some compomise. To my pleasant surprise, I had misunderstood their prescriptions for my labor. It seems as though I'll be monitored somewhat more frequently than a patient without any diagnosed anomalies, but they are not automatically planning on having me be continuously monitored. I also was mistaken in their suggestions for when to come to the hospital; they're asking me to arrive at the same time anyone else would. (We did discuss my history of fast labor and delivery, so keeping that in mind, we will probably err on the side of caution within their suggestions.) I had originally hoped for a water birth this go-round, but that has been ruled out due to the SUA. The rules, restrictions, and qualifications for hospital water births are quite strict, I've learned. I was comforted in this conversation, though, learning that I should have access to the shower should everything progress normally; I had been worried that even the shower would be off-limits for more than teeny stints of time, and my worries were thankfully unfounded. All of these things are very important to me in my hopes to birth this baby with minimal medical interventions or medication as I did Lydia. (She was born roughly an hour after arriving at the hospital, and I had no interventions or pain medication. It was the single most empowering experience of my life, and you can read about it here.) All-in-all, I'm feeling as if my midwives (whom I trust greatly) are treating my labor as if it will go normally and smoothly--exactly the reason I chose midwives in the first place. I left feeling confident and calm.

I did talk to the midwife about actually writing down a birth plan and have decided to do so. I had nothing really written with Lydia, though I had conversations with both our doula and my OB in Austin. Because I was at the hospital for so little time before delivering Lydia, any communication about this birth plan didn't happen. Fortunately, most of what I would have asked for happened, but this time, we'll likely be at the hospital before I'm 10 cm dilated--hopefully. In writing, I am borrowing heavily from the birth plan of a high school friend as well as the book Natural Hospital Birth by Cynthia Gabriel. (I highly recommend it to anyone hoping for a drug-free birth in a hospital.) Nothing too detailed--just basic information and wishes and probably 2/3 of a page at most.

Three down, six-ish to go. All in all, a good visit!

33 weeks, 4 days

BPP #2 and a Sneak Peak

We had Biophysical Profile (BPP) and Non-Stress Test (NST) #2 today, and Baby G2 again passed with flying colors--a perfect 10/10. We again had to work to get him moving during the NST, even though I had loaded up with a coffee beforehand. Once I got some cold liquid in me, he did his thing quickly. One nurse commented, "This seems to be a pattern..." and when , true to form, I worriedly asked the midwife if the baby's not-so-immediate performance was an indicator of anything problematic, she said, "Oh, no! Sometimes we'll have people hooked up to these for two hours!" The problem isn't that his heartrate doesn't accelerate in response to his movements, it's that he seems to have a party during the BPP and then just want to hang out during the NST. (An NST looks for baby's heart rate to accel in response to movements or contractions at least twice during 20 minute period.)

In other news, Baby is still head down and today, we got the bonus of a 4D Ultrasound pic. He sailed through the BPP ultrasound quickly, and turns out this is what you get to do if there's extra time and the baby cooperates! I've always thought 4D ultrasounds were kind of cheating, and I still don't think I would pay out of pocket for one (apparently some people will elect to have them done and pay out of pocket around 26 weeks just for the great pictures), BUT something about this image helped me put back in perspective that all of these extra appointments and labor and everything is for a baby that will be ours before too long. Robin and I both agree that he looks a lot like Lydia looked as a baby. Lydia favored Robin a lot as an infant and slowly came to look more like me or at least more like a blend of the two of us as she hit three or so months. This baby definitely has the Ganser nose while we're pretty sure Lydia has mine, but there's something about those cheeks that shows the two are siblings, especially considering Baby has seven-ish more weeks to pack on more chub.

Baby G2 at 33 Weeks, 2 Days

Lydia at 10 days old

ZZZZZZZ

Robin usually looks at me like a crazy person when I say that this pregnancy has been easier, but physically, it has. I've gained less weight, avoided nausea for the most part, and have yet to puff up like a marshmallow (***knockonwood***). While emotionally, it has been far more challenging, my body seems to have coped much better with the hormonal changes brought on by growing a child.

The biggest challenge, far and away, is exhaustion. I am so, so tired. I was anemic when pregnant with Lydia, and I was sure that was the case this time around, but no. Just tired. The problem is compounded by Robin's and my work schedules. I have to leave the house by 6:40 AM to get to school on time, and Robin generally gets home around 6:45-7. He gets Lydia off to school in the morning, and I pick her up at 4 and make dinner most nights. By the time Robin gets home, you can practically scrape me off the ground. I know that lots of people deal with much more, but a twelve hour day between leaving the house and having parenting assistance in the evening has proven to be a lot.

This level of fatigue is really frustrating for me, especially as Baby G2 gets bigger and basic things like giving Lydia a bath or getting her into a grocery cart are becoming increasingly difficult. I just can't get done what I would like, and I can't be the active (not to mention patient) parent that I want to be. Yesterday I hit my breaking point as Robin returned from his second two-night trip away during the past two weeks, and as I drove out to Forest Lake to fulfill a commitment, I cried half the way. I'm just. so. tired.

Robin and I have had a lot of talks about knowing my limits and stopping when I know I'm about to go over the edge. This really isn't in my nature, and I tend to want to power through. As we go into these final seven-ish weeks, I'm going to really try to make some mental shifts.

Baby's First A

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Baby G2 decided earlier on he didn't want to blend in with the crowd, so rather than grow a nice, normal two-artery umbilical cord, he decided he only needed one. Maybe he was trying to be thrifty, or just sleek and chic. Anyway, this anomaly, known as Single Umbilical Artery, or SUA, is the last remaining leftover from our September scare.

Yesterday, we began weekly monitoring appointments that will continue until Baby's delivery: a biophysical profile and a non-stress test. Yesterday's appointment also included a growth scan, but I'm under the impression that the growth scan won't happen weekly. The biggest risk with SUA is interuterine growth restriction--the baby doesn't get enough nutrients through the one artery and can't grow enough. Also, with one artery, there isn't the same wiggle room should something in the umbilical cord become comprised. With this said, everyone I know in the medical field has assured me that SUA is generally not a big deal. In fact, yesterday as the nurse was getting the non-stress test going, she asked what exactly prompted this extra monitoring, and when I told her SUA, she said, "Oh. That's it." While anything abnormal causes stress and anxiety for me, the message we've constantly received is that while the doctors want to make sure everything is okay, everything will be okay.

As far as the monitoring yesterday, Baby G2 passed with flying colors. He is measuring at 4 lbs. 11 ozs, or the 64th percentile--about 5 ozs. less than Lydia was at this point, though there is a margin of error with ultrasound growth measurements. No growth restriction. (For those that weren't around or don't remember, Lydia was monitored for the opposite problem; she was huge.)

Biophysical profiles are ultrasounds that assess fetal movement, muscle tone, amniotic breathing, and amniotic fluid paired with a non-stress test. Baby scored 8 out of 8 on the ultrasound portion and did his thing on the non-stress test, though I needed to down some apple juice in the middle to get him moving--seems he tuckered himself out kicking away during the ultrasound and wanted to lay back and relax during the non-stress test, not giving them the movements and, more importantly, heart rate accelerations, they wanted to see. Once I got a little sugar in my bloodstream, he got moving and things didn't take too long. Biophysical profiles end in a score out of 10, and Baby scored 100%--his first A.

I am not thrilled that this will be a weekly event until Baby's debut, but after going through one appointment, I have less anxiety about the 8 or so to come. I am going to take a fellow mama's advice and listen to Hypnobirthing meditation CDs during the next appointment; I think that might ease my peace of mind while waiting for the ultrasound tech and nurses to count all of the things they are looking for. For the first appointment, I wanted to be able to listen and ask questions, but in the future, I think keeping anxiety at bay during the two hours at the clinic might be more important; they'll tell me what I need to know.

One down. Eight to go.

Check, Check, and Check

As I've said, preparations for Baby G2 have been very different than round one. Our lives are more hectic , and our focus is split. Over the past month, we've finally checked a few things off our list.

#1.) I started going to prenatal yoga at Blooma in Minneapolis. Prenatal yoga was a huge part of my pregnancy with Lydia, as was my standard vinyasa practice. Because the complications with this pregnancy happened to occur the night I went to a hot, intense yoga class, I had a very hard time breaking my association between that kind of workout and things going wrong with my pregnancy. As a result, I stopped the standard yoga and switched to prenatal.

Blooma is an amazing place. They are almost totally focused on pregnancy, birth, and babies. They offer education series as well as baby and toddler yoga on top of prenatal yoga classes. I love it. It's a place where pregnancy and birth is celebrated, and that's been tremendously helpful for my mindset.

Blooma is also the place where we met the person whom we've chosen as our doula, so on to...

#2.) Yesterday, we officially chose our doula. Brooke is one of my yoga teachers at Blooma, and last week as she was adjusting me, I thought to myself, "I wonder if this lady is a doula..." Something about the moment made me think,"If she is, I think this is our person." We had initiated conversations with six different doulas and interviewed two, and I was starting to feel like I just had to accept that I wouldn't have the same connection as we did with our first doula, Kristen.

Enter Brooke. We had a great conversation after the yoga class, and I emailed her that evening to set up a meeting with Robin and me; Lydia ended up tagging along, also. We met yesterday before we headed out of town for Christmas, and chatted for two hours. Robin joked later that the conversation only needed to last three minutes--we both knew pretty quickly that she was going to be our person. We reflected on Lydia's birth and some ideas we would like to incorporate this time around, talked budget a bit (since her fee was slightly higher than we had originally planned), and I left feeling really excited. Yay!

#3.) Finally, we have started nursery preparations. Robin painted the baby's room, and I spent a snowed-in weekend sewing eleven stuffed birds for a hanging mobile. Robin and Dale are talking about making the baby's crib as we speak, and I have identified my next craft project. (This one involves the baby's name so it will have to stay under wraps until he makes his big debut.) It's nice to see the baby's room begin to look less like a storage locker and more like a nursery.

It's clear that preparations for this baby will just not look the same as they did for Lydia, but it feel good to do a little nesting and see things start to take shape.

Getting Ready for Baby?

This pregnancy is moving along rapidly. Baby G.'s due date is in a little over ten weeks, and we are absolultely, completely unprepared. Poor guy--when I was this pregnant with Lydia, we had purchased a crib, a stroller, had planned our nursery, all of those things. We have (kind of) moved all of the boxes that were being stored in the baby's bedroom to the basement, and we are interviewing doulas next week. I have a list of crafts I want to do for the nursery, but have yet to start any of them. Paint has been purchased, but it is still sitting in tightly sealed cans. On one hand, we learned with Lydia that so much of the prep you do before baby isn't actually needed in the first weeks and months of the baby's life. On the other, the nesting is fun and part of the excitement-building.

Our lives are so different from what they were four years ago, we just don't have time to prep and discuss and reflect the way we did for Lydia. Robin's work schedule is much more demanding (thankfully!), and we're already caring for one child. What would be baby prep time has been consumed by moving, settling in, my classes and homework.

It's a weird catch-22. I am savoring these last months of Lydia's only-childness. We've enjoyed being able to focus on her for these (almost) four years. At the same time, though, it is strange and a little sad to think of raising a child that we can't focus on in the same way that we have on Lyds. In the same way that there is no way to picture what your life will look like after you have your first child, I feel like I'm just not able to get my head around what things will look like once this little guy arrives and is thrown in to the mix.

This weekend, I am bound and determined to finish one baby crafting project. I think it might be a mobile for the baby's room. I also have some pillows in mind. We shall see, we shall see.

Bundle of...

a.) joy
b.) nerves
c.) both

C would be most accurate.

Baby #2 is due in February--February 19, to be exact. Unlike with Lydia, we kept this news quiet, not announcing to our parents until the first trimester was nearly over. We wanted Lydia to be the one to share, and we didn't want to share with her until we had passed the window when miscarriages are most common. She did indeed share the news, announcing to both sets of grandparents, "Mommy has a baby in her tummy and I'm going to be a big sister!"

As I've blogged before, my biggest fear with Lydia was whether or not I would love her--would love being a mom. That fear quickly vanished, and Lydia is definitely loved, not just by me but by many. This round, I am in a different place, am a few years older. This time, my constant fear has been that something would go physically wrong. I waited on pins and needles to hear a heartbeat, to receive clear first trimester and quad screens, and when all of that happened, I told myself it was time to relax and just be excited about the baby that will join us in February. I knew my anxiety hadn't been normal.

And then...

...a lot happened. A huge bleed at 18 weeks, a diagnosis of placenta previa, a hospital stay due to bleeding and tightening of the belly that presented as possible preterm labor, and an ultrasound that showed three soft markers for chromosomal disorders. Two weeks followed, and as we waited on amniocentesis results, a Level II ultrasound, and I spent a week on bedrest followed by a week of minimal activity at work and home, every step forward I had made with pregnancy-related anxiety vanished. At the ultrasound the morning of the bleed, the tech asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby, and because Robin wasn't there, I asked her to print the photos and put them in an envelope to be opened with Robin later. This happened before news of things not "normal" beyond the placenta previa, and the envelope stayed sealed in my purse for two weeks as we waited on ultrasounds and test results. So much felt in question that I didn't feel like that envelope could be opened with excitement, and so it stayed closed until we had several questions answered. I felt like all of my anxiety and fear had been some sort of premonition--that my feeling that something would go wrong had been confirmed.

Those with whom I spent time during that week will attest to the train wreck of emotions that I was. Emails were sent out with vague information, and we were on the receiving end of an amazing amount of kindness and goodwill, not to mention prayers and positive thoughts. The babysitting, food deliveries, and kind words went miles.

Preliminary amnio results came back "great," followed by a totally normal complete report, received the morning of a Level II ultrasound that showed a healthy baby. Even more exciting (and surprising) was the placenta that, two weeks previous, had completely covered my cervix had now cleared the cervical opening by 3 cm. I no longer have placenta previa! The one remaining anomaly--the one that we knew would most likely not be rediagnosed--is a single umbilical artery. (Most umbilical cords have two arteries; this baby has one. This condition can be associated with poor growth in utero and requires extra monitoring to insure that the baby is receiving adequate nutrition, though our baby is currently measuring right on track.) In happy disbelief, we made calls to our parents and headed to lunch where we finally opened the envelope that told us this baby was a boy. We made the obligatory penis jokes, celebrated that so much of the fear of the past two weeks was over, and went on with our day.

Now, I can't seem to kick the fear. Everything triggers panic: the news that the umbilical cord anomaly will require weekly monitoring after 32 weeks and the perinatalogist had suggested extensive monitoring when in labor (despite assurance from nearly EVERYONE I know in the medical community that this is rarely an issue), the words "high risk" coming out of my midwife's mouth (even though I know that anything not completely normal in a pregnancy can throw someone into the "high risk" category), little twinges and back pain (that come with most pregnancies), any other sign that something might possibly be wrong (even though everything "wrong" is either no longer an issue or in most cases, doesn't pose a problem).

This baby is so wanted. Since Lydia was born, we wanted a second, 3-4 years after her. This baby is due exactly three weeks before her 4th birthday. His name was picked out before he was a bundle of cells. We have a nursery color scheme, and a plan for Robin to build his crib is in place. If I wasn't so invested in this child, I don't think I would be emotionally capable of such panic. We have always planned on stopping at two children, so this pregnancy will be the last one, and here I am, so nervous I'm having a hard time enjoying myself.


I do intend to talk to my midwives about this. This anxiety has reached a level that does not feel like me, does not feel rational, and does not feel healthy--for me, Baby G, Robin, or Lydia.

So here's my request: if you're the praying type, please pray for peace for me and health for our little one-artery-cord baby. If you're the positive energy/thoughts type, send it our way. If, like me, you've struggled with anxiety associated with pregnancy or medical situations, let me know. I feel like a crazy person, and I'd love to hear 1.) that I'm not alone and 2.) what you've done to address your medicine-related anxiety. We have 18 weeks to go, and as currently, my anxiety frequently overrides my excitement, something's gotta shift.

Lydia's Big News