It was early morning on a school day in early June 2013. I woke Eric up and said, "This pregnancy test is positive." Eric went for the high five and I responded with, "The test is
probably wrong." These differing attitudes pretty much lasted the duration of my pregnancy. Eric was incredibly excited and I was incredibly nervous.
For the most part, my pregnancy was smooth sailing. Some cramping at the beginning, some nausea that was easily ameliorated by a constant stream of Cheerios and apple juice, some early weight gain that slowed down considerably once I stopped shoving my face with every carbohydrate in sight. My skin was clear, I was able to eat chocolate and dairy where previously these had made me sick, people stood up for me on the subway, and I could wear elastic pants ALL THE TIME! Life was really pretty good. Still, I couldn't believe that I was actually pregnant and that I would actually stay that way long enough to have an actual baby.
Because I was so on edge that something might go wrong, I pretty much avoided taking pictures of my pregnant belly(here are 2/3 pictures taken), sharing details of my ultrasounds with strangers, or talking about the pregnancy for the first few months as some sort of superstitious way to ward off evil. As my belly grew though and I started to feel movements inside me, I started to really believe that there was a baby inside me and that in 21 weeks I would get to meet that baby.
Aside from a marginal placenta previa that resolved around week 26, I had zero complications with the pregnancy. Due to the placenta previa, I had extra ultrasounds which meant we got to see our little one even more! In week 37, I went to the ob for my weekly check-in. I was around 3 cm dilated(woot!), but my ob also noted that I had very low amniotic fluid. She was concerned and decided that I needed to go the hospital to have a higher resolution ultrasound performed to see if they could find more amniotic fluid. If they were unable to find more, my ob said that I "might need to be induced". I then spent 6 hours at the hospital on an IV drip. At one point the doctor said, "You're definitely staying here and having this baby", but then they checked my fluid again and it was high enough that they could send me home (at 11:30 at night).
Over the course of the next two weeks, my cervix continued to dilate and I continued to have multiple ultrasounds to check my amniotic fluid. I was hospitalized overnight about 10 days before my due date since they were concerned about the fluid level. They put me on an IV drip the entire night, but were unable to find more amniotic fluid in the morning. They moved me into a labor room, but my doctor decided that my fluid was high enough that I didn't need to be induced and they sent me home. At this point, I was ready to just have the baby already!!
The next weekend, on Super Bowl Sunday, I was lying around counting kick movements as a way of monitoring the baby's well being. I had been feeling less movement and I thought that I might also be leaking amniotic fluid. After eating about 30 wings(which would later turn out to be quite the mistake) while engaging in an internal debate, I decided that it was time to call the doctor. She advised me to go the hospital and to bring an overnight bag "just in case". Off to the hospital we went at around 9 pm. Little did we know what would transpire over the next 8 hours...
probably wrong." These differing attitudes pretty much lasted the duration of my pregnancy. Eric was incredibly excited and I was incredibly nervous.
For the most part, my pregnancy was smooth sailing. Some cramping at the beginning, some nausea that was easily ameliorated by a constant stream of Cheerios and apple juice, some early weight gain that slowed down considerably once I stopped shoving my face with every carbohydrate in sight. My skin was clear, I was able to eat chocolate and dairy where previously these had made me sick, people stood up for me on the subway, and I could wear elastic pants ALL THE TIME! Life was really pretty good. Still, I couldn't believe that I was actually pregnant and that I would actually stay that way long enough to have an actual baby.
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| At 20 weeks. |
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| Me at around 30 weeks. |
Aside from a marginal placenta previa that resolved around week 26, I had zero complications with the pregnancy. Due to the placenta previa, I had extra ultrasounds which meant we got to see our little one even more! In week 37, I went to the ob for my weekly check-in. I was around 3 cm dilated(woot!), but my ob also noted that I had very low amniotic fluid. She was concerned and decided that I needed to go the hospital to have a higher resolution ultrasound performed to see if they could find more amniotic fluid. If they were unable to find more, my ob said that I "might need to be induced". I then spent 6 hours at the hospital on an IV drip. At one point the doctor said, "You're definitely staying here and having this baby", but then they checked my fluid again and it was high enough that they could send me home (at 11:30 at night).
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| Me in the hospital at 38 weeks. Not sure what I was going for here. |
The next weekend, on Super Bowl Sunday, I was lying around counting kick movements as a way of monitoring the baby's well being. I had been feeling less movement and I thought that I might also be leaking amniotic fluid. After eating about 30 wings(which would later turn out to be quite the mistake) while engaging in an internal debate, I decided that it was time to call the doctor. She advised me to go the hospital and to bring an overnight bag "just in case". Off to the hospital we went at around 9 pm. Little did we know what would transpire over the next 8 hours...
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