Ever wish you had someone tell you what pregnancy was like before and while going through it? In this weekly column, we check in with a pregnant contributor — who’s previously suffered loss. She’ll take us along a journey of endless doctor’s appointments and questions from the outside world — all while keeping her identity a secret until she’s ready. Follow her journey of highs and lows during this special time.
So, 22 weeks later, after finding out some of the best news of the year, I went to a casual OB check-up appointment, only to receive news that would make me sick to my stomach.
I’ve already shared with you my past as far as experiencing two pre-term labors that left me with two baby angels. That chapter in my life was very dear and personal, but I find that it’s crucial in my healing to let others in and to be able to help women with similar stories in any way that I can.
This pregnancy has been mentally difficult. Remaining positive when it feels like I don’t have the necessary medical support has been, at times, impossible. What I am about to tell you is also difficult, but I am dedicated to being honest and open about this journey to parenthood.
At week 17, I went to the lab to do a series of blood work that was so extensive that I’m surprised I have blood left. At 20 weeks, I went in for an anatomy scan. I was there to see if all the baby’s parts were in the right place; to find out if everything was functioning properly and also to learn the baby’s gender.
For my 22-week check-up, I felt cool as a cucumber. I was the last patient of the day.
I heard a soft-spoken nurse attempt to yell my name. Not really knowing what to expect of the appointment, I must say I had not one worry in the world. The blood work and the anatomy scan were both normal, but they noticed some irregular signs that could “possibly mean there would be an issue with the babies developmental function,” the doctor told me.
Umm … excuse me?!?
The doctor broke things down and silence befell the room. A series of questions poured out of me.
Is there something I did? Something I can do?
The doctor’s attempts to calm me down were an utter and complete failure. Everything turned into Charlie Brown talk at that point. Tears filled my eyes and blame kicked in. Every time I feel like I am on a high and things are flowing that magic carpet is snatched right from under me.
Remain positive they say…HOW SWAY?
This journey has been a true test of faith. I am stuck with memories of my past and the conviction in my heart that this experience is not the last time and God got my back. As you can imagine, it’s a tough place to be in. Since then, I have made attempts to schedule follow-up appointments and talk to a specialist about getting to the bottom of this. I’ve have been on pins and needles since that appointment. It’s been hard to care about anything at work or socially.
I know that the enemy won’t win this one and God has the final say. I, and my faith of a mustard seed, will continue to push through and not be defeated. This growing fetus can definitely feel my sadness, but I am not giving up hope on my Miracle Baby. I’m getting them here happy, 100% healthy, full-term and ready to shine in this world.
It’s going to be rough, but I have to keep fighting. The finish line is getting closer and closer. Please pray for me, y’all!
