When I started blogging, I didn’t quite understand the obsession with dates and particularly due dates – although I had read enough about the issue before we started trying to conceive that I purposefully don’t know the exact date when we started (and it very intentionally wasn’t our wedding). Perhaps it was because I had never been pregnant. Now, there were not only a due date, but also the 20w and 20w3d milestones etched into my heart. What I hadn’t counted on, though, was the fact that this was the ultrasound-adjusted counting from my OB that I eventually went with, not the original from my IVF, which is one day behind. Just one day shouldn’t make much of a difference, one might think. For the 20w date it kind of worked in my favor – I spent Saturday being very nervous, and then on Sunday, which actually marks 20w in this pregnancy, I felt sort of ok as the “real milestone” was already past.
On Monday, which in neither counting system falls on any anniversary, I had my anatomy scan. Strawberry is growing appropriately and has long limbs – her dad immediately claimed his influence, and that she’d be thankful for this later. Her* estimated weight was 3.5 bars of chocolate, plus/minus half a bar**. Only 27 bars to go. My cervix was measuring 3.4cm, well in the comfortable zone.
But then on Tuesday, I found myself a bit surprised to be sobbing on my yoga mat. I thought a lot about my dear little A & C. Whether they suffered. It’s hard to imagine they didn’t, with C hanging in there without fluid for three days, and A trying to breathe after she was born, both trying so hard to stay with us. It is a heartbreaking thought. I hope E will never have to suffer like this.
Wednesday, which I had expected to be the hardest day, was easier again.
On Thursday I went to a memorial event from my hospital. When I got the invitation, my main hope was to go there grieving two children, but with hope for their sibling, particularly as it was so close to our anniversaries. It’s actually organized by the children’s hospital, so I knew there would be parents that lost infants or older children, but it was sad and shocking to see pictures of happy healthy children, presumably taken before they got sick. There were even a few teenagers – I distinctly remember being this age. It’s usually not thought of as one’s last years. I think that, in addition to the collective sadness for all these losses, it hit me that 24w, while considered “viability”, isn’t “safe”. That there is no “safe”.
Then I got a cold, and we had self-inviting relatives over for a visit, and between those two I was too exhausted to post. I’ve even had another ultrasound now, with the lovely tech that enjoys making 3D pictures. Strawberry Baby was willing to show her girly bits again, and we saw a cute little nose much like her sisters’. Cervix still good. Exhaling, and waiting for that milestone that’s coming up in 1.5 weeks. It may not be “safe”, but I still like to think of our chances getting better every day.
* actually she had her legs crossed…
** proper 100g bars, of course