And here I am 7 weeks more pregnant than I made it with Robbie. That's sort of insane to me. I remember Robbie at 7 weeks old. He was off the vent, but still on CPAP. I'd gone back to work and was trying to split my time between working and being with him. He was still beyond tiny. Chello already likely weighs more than Robbie did when he came home from the hospital on his actual due date. It's a lot to wrap my mind around.
David came to bed just after midnight tonight and I said "Hey baby?" "Yeah?" "Thirty three weeks." He grinned a sly smile and whispered "wow." We're both just in awe.
A friend from the NICU brought me lunch yesterday. Her daughter was Robbie's NICU girlfriend, born at 25 weeks. We talked about how we never even new the 32/33 weeker families. They were there and gone before we could even say hello. I'm sure it didn't seem that way to THEM, but we were both there 14 or so weeks. It seemed like the blink of an eye and they were gone.
This week's labs were amazing. No protein this week because it was my pee-jug-break week, but my ALT was down essentially to normal. Not "Trish Normal." I mean actual normal. It should be 40 or under and it was 41. There a bunch of other tests that I don't usually bother with the numbers on, but apparently everything was improved this week. Funny, too, because it was David's birthday and between that and a lunch one day, I had 3 restaurant meals last week. I tried to make good choices, of course, but it's difficult to keep your sodium down with anything out. And yet this week's results were the best in months. I think this means I need more Italian food, right?
My blood pressures have been a little unstable. I've had to watch them more closely and focus on relaxing to get them down a bit. Nothing terrifying, just creeping up towards 140/90 sometimes and I get anxious (which doesn't help.) Last night I ended up with a horror-movie quality nose-bleed and the first thing I thought about was my platelets. Eventually I got it stopped and I was fine (and my blood was clotting while I watched, so really, it was fine) but it was gross and a reminder of how quickly things can change.
Otherwise things are quiet here. I've been reading a ton. I wanted to read 50 books this year. 6 weeks of bed rest has made that easy, I finished #51 tonight. (The Hunger Games- Two thumbs way up!) I watch a ridiculous amount of TV and make lots of lists. Robbie had his first school field trip today. They went to the pumpkin patch. I was very sad not to be able to go with him but my dad went and they had a great time.
My anxiety level has been creeping up a little again, though. It's funny because I was doing better for a while, but I think being able to almost reach out and touch full term makes me feel vulnerable that it could still be snatched away. Probably in a similar way to how 24 weeks made me more nervous, not less. Logically I know that even if the baby came now, she'd likely do well, but I also know that a preemie is still a preemie and you can't count on anything.
My favorite peri okayed scheduled my c-section at 38 weeks. Of course, he warned that if I start having any kind of regular contractions (even if I'm not feeling them) or if my labs worsen, that's it. But he doesn't think an amnio is necessary. He says we plan for the best and if something changes, we deal with it then. That's what I wanted him to say, so it made me happy. I go back to the OB on Monday and will hopefully be scheduling my section for 5 weeks from today. That would be December 1.
I'm trying not to get really hung up on that date. I've always had the feeling that we were having a baby in November, and I know that things can change in a matter of hours with preeclampsia, but the notion that I am having a baby in 5 weeks or less is pretty surreal.
Chello has been pretty active most days and I find myself thinking "wow, I'm really going to miss this." I have absolutely zero doubts about this being our last pregnancy. I'd love to raise more kids, ideally adopting out of foster care, but even if I can ever get David on board that plan, I KNOW I can't take another pregnancy. We got pregnant relatively easy this time (for a couple of old infertiles anyway) but this is clearly an insult to my body and the stress is just crazy. I think even my OB would disown me if I suggested it.
I also know this is an amazing experience that not everyone gets the opportunity to have. I get to feel my baby kick inside me. Sometimes I can even tell which body part is doing what. Sometimes I poke and she pokes back, seemingly saying "Leave me alone!" She gets pissed off at the monitors and goes all crazy for a few minutes when they strap them on. This one has a temper. Oh boy! Sometimes her reactions to things makes me laugh. Robbie has a flute that he loves to make horrible screeching sounds on and Chello will kick. I think she's telling us to keep it down out here. These are special moments that I will miss.
For now I'm just trying to treasure them and each day that I get to experience them. Thirty four is a huge milestone in pregnancy and I'm looking forward to it coming. But right now, 33 feels pretty damned good.