Six Weeks to Go

Yesterday I started my twice-weekly NSTs and BPPs for Little Brother, and despite my clotting issues, gestational diabetes, a history of gestation hypertension AND a previous IUGR diagnosis — this baby is perfect.

He’s almost 4.5 pounds, and has measured anywhere from the 40th to the 60th percentile depending on the day we have a growth scan. Gus, at this point, was already hovering around the 10th percentile, so the idea of having a giant normal sized baby is blowing my mind right now.

And, I don’t know if it’s because this time the baby is bigger, or if it’s my anterior placenta, or if it’s just because it’s my second (well, sixth, but who’s counting?) pregnancy, but I feel ENORMOUS. My belly button is almost gone, and it’s threatening to pop out, and I can’t even look at it, and Gus thinks it’s fascinating and wants to poke it (GAHH.)

If everything continues to chug along as it has been, and I don’t go into labor on my own, I’m rolling up to the hospital in six weeks to have this baby (and my second October baby will, in fact, be a September baby).

Anyone else still shocked this is happening? Because I am, 100%.

I’m all for going into labor naturally. That’s what happened with Gus, a few days before my scheduled induction. I’m NOT a huge fan of contractions, and labor pains though, because HOLY MOLY, so part of me is thrilled to just show up and have another c-section.

Complicating matters this time (because of course!) my mom is scheduled to be out of the country up until three days before my scheduled delivery, so fingers and knees crossed he stays put while she’s gone.

 

 

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Still Here, Still Pregnant, and A Little Less Paranoid!

I’m a few days shy of 29 weeks, and officially in my last trimester with Baby Boy #2 (Name confirmed! Intentionally withheld!)

Today we had our second growth scan since my anatomy scan in May, which in my case will continue monthly, thanks to 1) gestational diabetes and 2) Gus’ IUGR diagnosis four years ago.

Only good news, thank you baby Jesus.

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Little Brother is around three pounds so far, and is in the 64th percentile for his gestational age. Comparatively speaking, Gus had already fallen way below average at this point (I think? Four years ago was a long time ago, and I didn’t write anything down, and pregnancy brain isn’t helping).

The only main difference between now and then, has been my blood pressure, and, well, how I got pregnant in the first place.

There is a correlation between IVF and higher blood pressure, and there’s a definite correlation between high blood pressure and placenta/growth issues — so perhaps that’s why Gus was a peanut, and so far Little Brother is not? I guess there’s no way to ever know for sure, but that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it.

In other news I got an email from my OB’s office confirming my c-section date for early October at 39+3 weeks, which was news to me, since I haven’t actually talked to anyone there yet about if I wanted or needed another c-section (I’m fine with it, thankfully) and how late I’d be allowed to wait to deliver (in the past I’ve been told I shouldn’t go past 38/39 weeks with my various risk factors).

I talked to the MFM team about it today, and they agreed it would prrrrobably be ok to wait a few days past 39 weeks, but maybe just to be on the safe side we push that date up a few extra days — which was also OK by me.

Baby is also finally big enough that I can feel regular movement, so I’m significantly less paranoid than I was a few weeks ago. We’ve even spent a few weeks at the beach (three hours away from home, and doctors, and decent hospitals) here and there, which was something I could never do when I was pregnant with Gus because I had so. many. appointments. throughout his pregnancy — and I was a crazy person until the day he was born.

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Mountains of Baby Clothes, The Power of Oxyclean, and Viability

The best part of the second trimester is a tie, between finally feeling some baby movement (in your FACE, anterior placenta!) and no longer feeling like a train hit me.

With my newfound energy levels came a desire to clean and organize all of Gus’ baby clothes.

I figured, everything was clean when I packed it away, and it’s mostly organized by size already, how long could it possibly take?

Short answer: It takes like two weeks.

So many of the teeny tiny wittle baby clothes were covered in milk stains (which is apparently super common over time, even if they look clean when you pack them) and the sheer volume of four years worth of clothes (no matter how tiny) was overwhelming.

I separated out all the things worth keeping, and then anything with terrible staining. The internet assured me that a long soak in some Oxyclean would get rid of the majority of the yellow spots, so I gave it a try.

Oxyclean is everything Billy Mays promised us it would be, and then some.

Also, my god, baby clothes are adorable.

Another fun fact: apparently I packed my fancy, moderately expensive, diaper bag away, full of snacks and a sippy cup full of water, and after two years in an airtight bag, instead of very convincing fake leather, it turned into a giant bag of fuzzy mold. 

And, just as exciting for those of us riddled with pregnancy anxiety, today marks my 24th week, and with it comes the magic word: viability.

15 weeks to go. 

Another (Good) Surprise 

When I was pregnant with Gus, I was sure he would be a girl.

I’m a girl. My mom is a girl. Her sisters — all girls. My cousins, overwhelmingly girls. All their kids (you guessed it) even more girls.

But at 16 weeks, we found out he was, well, a he. The first boy in my immediate family, in more than two decades. 

And all the old wives’ tales were true. I wanted salty foods. I looked preeeeetty good, glowing and all that. Whatever his heartbeat averaged, meant he was a boy. That old Chinese gender chart (while technically not applicable thanks to IVF) said he’d be a boy.

This time?

I want sweet things. And salty things. Basically I want all the things that aren’t vegetables. But last time, sweet just seemed gross, and this time it seems like a good idea.

And I’m less pretty. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still super cute, as long as you’re not put off by all these pimples and this beard I’m slowly growing.

I don’t know why, but my intuition has been screaming GIRL GIRL GIRRRLLLLL at me for weeks.

My intuition, it seems, is crap.



Little Brother, coming in September.

(The anatomy scan went very well, and baby was measuring on schedule with all of his (HIS!) bits and bobs right where they should be.)