I’m 32 weeks pregnant.
How big is the baby?
On Monday’s scan, he was in the 90th percentile so very tall and estimated at 2,5kg. They talked about macrosomia but it wasn’t surprising.
I’ve only washed baby clothes size 1 month and size 3 months. No need for the birth size!
Something special this week?
A lot of hiccups for BB#3, tears, joys, reliefs, fatigue and desillusion.
Most challenging moment?
This week has been the hardest.
On Friday I had my 3rd trimester scan. My gynecologist was on holiday and it was her usual replacement. I don’t trust her as she was the one who found the placental abruption for Little H and told us coldly we’ll lose the baby whereas 3 weeks later, my gynecologist saw nothing on screen.
This time, she found a cardiac issue in the baby. A serious problem, she announced carelessly like before. 15 minutes to listen to his little hard at loud (she couldn’t find how to lower down the sound). When I left the appointment, I was devastated. I had no recommendation letter for the hospital (she forgot to write it) and I tried a dozen phone numbers to find where to join the scan ward. They gave me an appointment for Tuesday which is great for a call on Friday afternoon.
I was so lost I went to lunch alone at the restaurant trying to find some comfort food but all I found was a parking fine for a parking I had already paid for (dematerialized payment for parking seems to work perfectly!)
For 4 days, I was living in hell. Not knowing, getting worried, doing as if everything was fine, hiding to cry… Unlike my previous pregnancy where I feared health issues for my boys, this time, I knew perfectly well what it means to have a disabled child. I knew what it would look like, the pain, the fears and to figure how our life would look like with a second disabled child was my worst nightmare.
On Tuesday lunchtime (after 2 hours waiting), I had my ultrasound scan… and they found nothing ! at least nothing worrying. They were much more concerned by the baby size and weight and the fact he was so low in my cervix than anything else.
In the end, we were frightened for nothing. This is perfect and relieving but since this is the second time this replacement gave us a wrong, careless and frightening diagnosis, I’ll have a discussion with my gynecologist for our next appointment !
Most exciting moment?
On Saturday evening, I was alone with the boys. After hesitating a while, I took them to the illuminated animations our small town organized. I took with me a foldable stool to sit away from the crowd. If the event was not very well organized and without any Covid sanitary protocol (unmasked people massed in a crowd to see the shows), each of the boys were happy. Mr A loved the troubadours show and Little H was mesmerized by the fire (a little too much, he tried to jump in it)
We ended the evening by taking McDo take away. It was not very healthy but watching Mr A dancing with joy to go there made me happy.
There were also some very beautiful and happy moments, where Little H’s small progress made us so happy, like this tickling battle he joined for the first time !
What’s new doctor?
In addition to the cardiac issue mentioned above, I’ve been suffering since Monday from belly pains. I think it is ligament pain because it feels like a stitch spreading all over my belly. The pain has intensified over the last few days and it’s hard now to stand up, walk or use the stairs. I try to lie down as much as possible but it’s not always effective. And what’s not great, it’s I now have contractions.
Not very serious this week.
“Comfort food” has never been so true. When I’m sad or depressed I eat to ease things. This week, I’ve made some deviation to my diet (like here at Velicious, a vegan restaurant)
Since walking has become a struggle, I tried nothing else. A few breathing techniques to help with belly pains and contractions, that’s all.
Such a paradox.
I have so many things to do and the desire (need?) to reduce my to-do list. And at the same time, I feel so tired and limited I don’t want to move at all.
Self Care ?
In September, the social worker told me I could ask some help for the housework to an association for the end of my pregnancy and my postpartum. I was pleasantly surprised last week when they called me to begin 4 hours every 2 weeks. Being so tired, I said yes immediately and I was really happy to welcome this extra help. Unfortunately, there was a cast error. The woman they sent me told me when she arrived she didn’t like houseworks and she would prefer to take care of the kids. These 4 hours were wasted and I called back the association to tell them we’d prefer to stop until they found someone else. Now I have some housework to do this weekend, again.
After last week’s awareness and talking with a friend/client who is Doula, I might hire a Doula to support me. I have a short list I’m going to investigate. Between being alone to deliver the baby or having a Doula by my side, the question deserves to be asked, even if it means to break my piggy bank.
The other night, I was making some space on my smartphone and I found Little H first days videos. I was shocked by the sadness I felt watching them. I remember suffering at the time from being alone at the maternity ward, my husband being at work or taking care of Mr A, and having too few visits. I remember the quarantine being back home since Mr A caught chicken pox. Little H being so small, we had to cut the house in 2 parts to avoid him being close to his brother and my husband. My postpartum was hard, especially since I failed my breastfeeding and I felt so lonely the first two months.
I have the feeling this scenario will repeat again (minus the chicken pox of course). And I don’t want to live these haunted and destructive weeks. So, maybe being helped by a Doula for my postpartum would help ? Only if I find a good match of course!