[So I haven’t blogged in awhile, and to be quite honest it’s mostly because this new position at work has been completely sapping me. It’s been awhile since I’ve felt this unsteady at work, and I keep telling myself that I just have to get through this “first” year in a new position and after that things will calm down. But a school year is a looooooong time — at least it feels that way. Between school and growing March baby, my nights and weekends have been reserved (mostly) for full-on resting! But. I’ve still been saying a lot in my head, and since I get a three day weekend I’ve been wanting to get back on here.]
We had a check-up last Tuesday (Finally — four weeks is a long time to wait!) when I was two days prior to eighteen weeks. I’m not sure if it’s the same for any of you, but I’m always of two minds when we have a doctor’s appointment: I’m so grateful to have one, because it gives me definitive evidence that March baby is continuing to live, but I’m also completely anxious, because that definitive evidence could also tell us that March baby has died. On Tuesday, when it got to the point where they used the fetal doppler to check for a heartbeat, I like to think I was initially calm.
But then it seemed like it was taking so much longer than last time to find the beat, and my calm went away in increasing increments. The doctor kept telling me it was so normal, but at the same time she kept moving the thing to different places because we weren’t hearing a heartbeat yet and all I kept screaming in my head was, “THAT’S WHAT THEY TOLD US LAST TIME!” Right about the time I knew I was going to completely lose it, that I was convinced she would take up the doppler and tell me what I already knew, that “it happened again, it happened again, it happened again” was on a constant loop in my head — the sound changed. And I felt like I barely gasped out, “Is that it?!”
And it was. And it was okay. And the heartbeat was strong and normal. And I was amazingly relieved but I also full on started crying because holy shit I had been in such a state of panic that we had lost another child. The doctor was kind, and was again trying to assure us that it was normal for it to take awhile to find a heartbeat at this stage, and attempting to respectfully figure out why our emotions had shot sky high, and all I could get out as I attempted to get myself under control was, “We thought it happened again.” And then hubs took over and explained the backstory.
The doctor was kind, and almost immediately went into this mode of how the practice could help make the process better for me (which still surprises me, no matter how many of the staff make up for my awful first visit there). She offered then and there to schedule more frequent heartbeat checks if we wanted. I had been trying to just have faith over this last month waiting for the check up, and we go in for the gender ultrasound in a little under two weeks, and I feel like I can last until then.
But if I could go back and start this pregnancy over again, I would schedule more frequent heartbeat checks from the start. I wanted to fight for March baby but also be brave and have faith. People — you can do those things and still get more regular piece of mind. That’s my advice to anyone out there like me. Honestly, if we manage to get March baby here safe and sound, and we are lucky enough to get pregnant again later on, I will for sure be scheduling those right away.
According to my pregnancy app, March baby can hear some things now, so I talk to him/her at night. I tell the baby how we were given quite a fright at the appointment, and how we are so relieved they are still here with us. And I press my hand against my stomach and will the baby to move enough so that I can finally feel it. Just something else to reassure that things are still on-going, still hopeful, still growing.