22 Weeks and All Is Well

As of today, the little girl sitting on my bladder is 22 weeks along. I continue to be shocked and thankful each time the doctor reports that things are looking fine. She continues to jump around so much that we haven't gotten any good ultrasound pictures. I have high hopes for the next visit, the day before Thanksgiving -- when she'll be about 24 weeks, the first reasonable point of viability.

I'm getting pretty tired of Gatorade, but I dutifully chug 20 ounces of the sport drink first thing every morning to calm down my irritable uterus. It does seem to be working -- the contractions are much less intense as long as I've had Gatorade or salty food (which makes me retain water). I'm still working but trying to take it easy. My job can be pretty intense, so taking it easy is a challenge, but I do what I can and I'm lucky that my boss is supportive on those days I need to work from home.

We still haven't bought anything for the baby. That's probably not normal, I know. But this still doesn't seem like a sure thing. We did finally start looking into daycare, which was a big step for me. When people congratulate me on my pregnancy, I try really hard to just smile and say thank you. And when they ask me when I'm due, I try to just say "March 20" instead of adding that I will probably not make it that far.

It would be a great irony if, after all this worrying, I actually made it to full term.

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Please take some time to hop over and congratulate my UU compatriot Sara, who made it to 35 weeks with lots of complications before giving birth to the 4-pound baby Brynn on Nov. 8.

What Are the Chances?

En route to our 20-week ultrasound last week, I was nearly overwhelmed with nerves. I've mentioned before that I have tended to approach each appointment with a stoic attitude, prepared for the worst. My biggest concern this time would be that the ultrasound would show no kidneys, or some similar malformation that is not consistent with life outside the mother.

I tried to calm myself down, thinking "what are the chances of something like that happening, especially when I've already had such unlikely things happen to me?" But for anyone who's repeatedly been on the wrong side of the stats, this is less than compelling. I had two miscarriages in a row (there's a 1 in 20 chance of this happening) and then found out I had a rare uterine malformation (there's an estimated 1 in 6000 chance of this happening). I'm no stranger to the short end of the statistics.

Steve came with me to this appointment. We had to wait longer than usual in the waiting room, and I tried to remain calm while the clock ticked on. After what seemed like a long time, we were called back. The ultrasound tech started doing her thing. Once again, the little bugger was deemed "very active" and it took her a while to check all her details. Finally, she announced that everything looked normal, and I was finally able to relax.

I did confirm from the doctor that I am already having contractions. He said I have an "irritable uterus" and told me that's pretty normal for a woman with a unicornuate uterus. He told me to stay hydrated and lie down when the contractions come, and he gave me the signs to watch for that would indicate I should hightail it to the hospital. I've been chugging Gatorade ever since.

We also found the baby's sex. I'd had a strong feeling that it's a boy. Of course, I had a 50-50 chance of being right. I was shocked to find out for sure: it's a girl!