I don’t think I’ve ever met a mommy or pregnant woman that hasn’t had at least one “pregnancy scare”, myself included. Before becoming pregnant, I heard many stories from family, friends and even stories of people I didn’t know. Some much scarier than others, but I don’t think you can really relate or connect with something like this until you’re in the same position.
My first scare is a relatively minor one, but to me, it felt huge. I had my first prenatal appointment and ultrasound at seven weeks and my doctor said, “Everything looks as it should, the baby is growing beautifully and you should be very optimistic about your pregnancy.” After reading about all the things that could go wrong and hearing stories, I felt a huge sigh of relief after my first appointment. Then, during my eighth week, I found a tick on my thigh after doing some yard work. I didn’t even know what it was at first. I literally thought to myself, “What is that spec of dirt on my leg?” But after picking it off after a few tries and looking up close, I was horrified to see that it was a tick. It was so small that I am still surprised I caught it. I went into a panic thinking, “What the hell happens to my baby if I get Lyme disease??!” So, a long-ish story short, I learned the tick wasn’t embedded yet when I found and removed it and I did not get Lyme disease. Phew, once again I was relieved, but I told my husband that my days of yard work were done until post-baby because I didn’t want to worry about that again.
At 17 weeks, I had my fetal ultrasound where they check the baby’s brain, organs etc and when we found out we’re having a little lady! Because she was moving so much, the technician couldn’t get all the pictures she needed so they asked me to do another ultrasound in two weeks. My husband and I were thrilled! We loved seeing her little profile and body on the screen so another chance to see her was fine by us. So at 19 weeks I had another ultrasound, only at this one I was told two things. The first being that this time around they saw what is called an Echogenic Focus on the heart. The second being they thought the umbilical cord was not placed in the center of the placenta where it should be and that I possibly had Velamentous cord insertion. I immediately started balling my eyes out during my appointment. My doctor made it clear that he was absolutely not concerned at all about the echogenic focus and that they see it all the time in perfectly healthy babies. In fact, it’s so common they see it one in every five ultrasounds. My doctor also said he wishes he didn’t have to tell this to women because it’s a “fraud”, but that “it’s the business” and by practice he had to tell me. He went onto to tell me that his daughter had one and she was born perfectly healthy and fine; she is now 13 years old. Essentially, an echogenic focus is a bright spot which is simply a small calcium deposit on the heart. It does not at all affect the hearts function nor is it a defect, but according to old data, it’s considered the weakest of four markers to possibly (possibly being the key word here) linking down syndrome. Typically, they have to see at least three markers to be concerned. Since then I have literally spoken to more women than not that were also told this and their babies were born perfectly healthy.
So, as the fear of echogenic focus dissipated, I was still crying every night worrying about the cord placement until my next appointment. My doctor told me he was much more concerned with the possibility of velamentous insertion because it could cause complications for the baby at birth. It can also affect the baby getting the adequate amount of nutrition and oxygen. So, once again I was asked to go for another ultrasound, only this time at the hospital where I’ll be delivering with high risk doctors from Tufts. At this ultrasound, both the technician and the high risk doctor confirmed that the umbilical cord was exactly where it should be and showed my husband and I all the pictures explaining that everything was fine. They told me it was very common for an office to spot a “finding”, but for it to just be a scare. What I learned was that sometimes when the placenta forms, it also forms a small extra piece attached to the main placenta. I was told that mine was small, up high and out of the way and that it poses no threat. My cousin, who is a labor and delivery nurse where I’ll be delivering told me they see that all the time and it’s not a concern.
Then, last but certainly not least, last Friday I was out for a walk with two friends when I fell. I literally couldn’t believe it. I thought to myself, “Is this REALLY happening?!” I stepped on a perfectly round stick that sent me flying, but luckily, I did not land on or hit my belly at all. I hurt both my shins and rolled my right ankle, but I was somehow able to protect my belly. Once again I called my cousin, aka my personal on call nurse, who told me that at 22 weeks they may not even check me unless I had fallen hard on my actual stomach. She said once a women hits the 24 week mark, if she falls on her stomach they monitor her for four hours checking fetal movement and the placenta. I told her that although I hurt myself, I did feel confident the baby was fine because I didn’t hit my belly at all and she was moving just as she always was. So, after talking it over with her, I was once again relieved, but since then I have felt really on edge and a little bit in shock from all the scares.
I’ve always been the anxious worry wart worrying about myself, but for the first time in my life, I haven’t worried about me. Even with my fall last week, I didn’t care that I sprained my ankle and had beat up shins. All I’m concerned with is the health and well being of my unborn baby girl. For once in my life, I don’t matter as much.
Today I am 22 weeks and 6 days pregnant. Aside from the few pregnancy scares I’ve had, it’s been a tough week in general for me. I’ve been silently worrying and a bit emotional. This stems from a very good friend of mine who lost her first baby boy at 22 weeks. At 22 weeks she went into preterm labor and the doctors couldn’t stop it. Her baby boy lived for just over an hour. She held him, cuddled him and then had to watch him take his last breath. He would be about two and a half years old now, but instead, he is her angel baby. I never forgot her telling me that she was told if this had happened two weeks later, at 24 weeks, he may have had a chance. 24 weeks is considered the viability week; although, according to my cousin, any baby born that early would still suffer some major issues and complications. Regardless, the mere thought of delivering so early scares the hell out of me. Earlier this week I woke up in the middle of the night from a pregnancy nightmare and mumbled to my husband that I had cramps and thought I was going into premature labor. He, who was also half asleep, assured me everything was fine. But I literally had a nightmare about it. All week I’ve been thinking about my friend and her heart breaking loss. She just delivered gorgeous twin baby boys three months ago, but my heart still aches for her first loss, and she will never fully heal from that. How could anyone? I try very hard to stay positive and put my faith in God and the good in the world that everything will be alright, but sometimes it’s hard when you see tragedy hit some of the best people you know.
For the last week, I keep finding myself counting down to the 24 week mark; which is one week from tomorrow. Everyday is one day closer to our baby girl being healthy and fully grown. I honestly cannot imagine what it must be like to lose a baby at this point in my pregnancy. Feeling her move every day, talking to her, singing to her, playing music for her…There is no question that a mother develops a bond with her baby during pregnancy. So I simply cannot imagine losing her now. We’ve come so far together, shared the same food, the same oxygen, the same body. After my own pregnancy scares and nightmares, I can officially relate to anyone who has suffered a scare or even worse, a loss.
Side note, October 15th was Pregnancy and infant loss awareness day. I lit six candles, some for women I know who have suffered a loss and one just because. My husband and I didn’t even turn on the TV that night. We just hung out on the couch with the house lit up only by candles talking. He fell asleep a bit early, but I lied there on the couch awake thinking and praying for the many women I know who have suffered a loss like this. And selfishly, praying that I don’t ever have to endure this type of pain or loss myself…