I Am Not Superwoman

When we were 8 weeks pregnant with Grace, we had our first ultrasound. We were excited but also nervous. We were living in the city and one of the advantages and disadvantages of city living, is all the hospitals are teaching hospitals. We fell into the disadvantage category for that ultrasound. The technician was "in training" and couldn't find the heartbeat. I remember breaking out in a cold sweat and my heartbeat racing. I practically crushed my husband's hand. The tech finally gave up and went to get the doctor. The doctor gave us a pleasant hello, popped the wand on my belly and bango there it was--Grace's little heartbeat flickering like the north star in what was otherwise a mass of darkness. The relief was indescribable, followed by many tears.

So when we went in for this baby's ultrasound I was a little nervous and anxious but definitely not like the last time. When we saw this one's heart beating away, instant tears again. It caught me by surprise and even the tech checked in to make sure everything was ok. It's just such a beautiful experience. A lot of my friends were jealous that with Grace we got an ultrasound every month. I have a fibroid that likes to take off when I'm pregnant so the doctors need to check on it to make sure it doesn't interfere with the baby's growth. Obviously, given Grace's size, it had little impact. While it's cool to see the baby once a month, it's crazy stressful because there is the very small chance that there could be something wrong. We were classified as a "high risk pregnancy" and as much as I recognized this was an insurance industry classification, I also refused to accept that it really was a high risk.

With this baby, the doctors again wanted to check on the fibroid so we've been going in every month or so. We just had our big ultrasound last week where they do all the major diagnostics to determine Down's, spina bifida, and any other abnormality. This is also the time they can tell you the baby's sex if you want to find out. It's a long appointment--45 minutes. And it's stressful. They measure every limb, every organ, brain function, heart volume. . .

As much as I wanted to know the sex of the baby, we decided to wait. At the end, the tech gave us some good news. The fibroid had not grown. I was ecstatic! But then she said, "You have mild placenta previa." I kind of stopped listening at this point but still heard enough to feel tears spring to my eyes. I have a mild case and it means no heavy lifting, no exercising, generally taking it easy for the next 4 weeks so they can see if it cleared up. If it doesn't, definitely a c-section, potentially bed rest, and an increased risk of prematurity. I tried to keep it together as we left and my husband tried to distract me by asking which picture I thought was the best but we were both a bit numb.

When I got home, I immediately called our doctor. He confirmed the diagnosis but was very reassuring. He even bet me a quarter that everything would be fine. He wanted me to slow down and had me repeat after him, "I am not superwoman." For the mother of a toddler to slow down is a very, very difficult task. But our baby needs me to. Trying to balance the needs of Grace and our lil'babe has so far been a challenge but a no brainer. You do what you have to do to protect your baby even if that means Grace is throwing a tantrum because I won't/can't pick her up.

I've been trying to focus on the good news. The good news is that the baby is 100% beautiful and perfect. People are still bugging us to find out the baby's sex which is getting increasingly on my nerves. We've been through one high risk pregnancy with Grace and now another problem with this one. Does anyone think for a moment that we remotely care what the sex of our baby is when we have other pressing matters to consider? My response is that we just want a healthy baby.