As I laid snuggling with the older two tonight, and then rocking the baby to sleep, I couldn't help but think back to two years ago tonight. I was 20 weeks pregnant with the baby and we were all so excited. As far as we knew, all was going well.
It was a gorgeous fall-like December day. I pushed the kids to the park in the double stroller and pushed them in the swing and played for a long time. Jayce even got stuck in the handicap accessible swing and I had to work really hard to get him free. It started to rain, so I lifted them into the double stroller and pushed them home at a quick pace.
That evening after the kids were in bed and I was sitting on the couch with Joe, I received a message from my doctor that our 20 week anatomy ultrasound showed issues. They were concerned that there was potentially a subchorionic hematoma or a partial placental abruption. I was to limit activity and lifting, and wait until the next ultrasound four weeks later.
I was terrified, especially after the physical exertion of taking the kiddos to the park and home. At 20 weeks, I wasn't able to feel the baby's movements that much yet and that did not help my anxiety. The next month found us teaching Jayce how to climb in and out of his crib using a stepladder, teaching he and Raelynn how to climb into and out of the vehicles and car seats on their own, and sitting much more than I would ever like to, both at home and at school. The kids were all troopers and my work family stepped up to help big time, making meals for our family every night so that I could just pop it in the oven and sit down with the kids to protect the baby.
The next ultrasound showed that things were looking better, but also showed that I had developed polyhydramnios, or excess amniotic fluid. I had the same condition with Jayce, but it was diagnosed earlier and more severe this time. The rest of the pregnancy advanced to a referral to maternal fetal medicine, weekly ultrasounds and doctor's visits, and two NSTs (non-stress tests) each week. The baby changed positions all the time and was in a different position at each ultrasound. Due to decreased fetal movement, I was scheduled for an induction at 38 weeks and 1 day. The baby was cephallic when the induction was scheduled, but breech when I went for my doctor's appointment just prior. The plan changed to a C-section. She had flipped again by morning, but after discussing everything with the doctor, we opted to still go with the C-section, believing that to be the safest option. Our sweet, healthy baby girl was finally born. The doctor's first words were, "Mikki, she looks great!" A wave of relief and joy washed over us all.
At my six-week follow up visit, my doctor said, "I'm so glad we did what we did. I did not have a good feeling about her and neither did the nursing staff at the hospital." Wow, thank you Jesus!
She was the best baby to begin with! She slept through the night starting at about a week old and we were all smitten. The big kids adored her and did wonderful with her. I remember when I could pick Jayce up for the first time, he (just three years old) exclaimed with such excitement, "Mom, you can pick me up now?!" At about three months old she developed reflux, which made her a pretty miserable baby until we got some medicine. Next came constant illness, doctor's visits, and a reactive airways disease diagnosis. A slew of issues later, she keeps us on our toes and loving daily.
All in all, she remains a monkey, fearless, and a charmer. She is loved by all and is our miracle baby. Thank you, Jesus, for these sweet bundles of joy and for their health!
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