3 AM Thoughts

They said this might happen, having trouble sleeping after getting the steroid injection so late in the afternoon. Is it the placebo effect, a genuine reaction to the medicine, or just stress from taking in this marathon of a day? 

I don't really know - never will, but I do know that even though I am exhausted, I just can't seem to settle back to sleep. Instead my mind is filled with questions, what-ifs, and worst-case scenarios. My phone browser windows are full of google searches for things like "umbilical cord doppler waves," bethamethasone and nursing, and countless different medical abbreviations. 

I burn off some of this anxiety and nervous energy by channeling it into decoding old medical records from when I was pregnant with Abby. I suppose it shouldn't be any huge surprise to be going down the road of having fetal growth restriction; it just all feels more scary that it's happening so soon. 

When we went in for an already full morning of OB appointments - a glucose tolerance test, a growth scan, and a regular check-in - I never thought we would be tacking on a non-stress test followed by the first of two trips to the hospital for a steroid injection. Maybe that's the scary part, that the doctor already felt concerned enough that she wanted to give steroid shots to help the baby's lungs develop. 

They can say all the reassuring things - "baby is not concerned at all that they're small right now. I am concerned as your doctor, but baby is perfectly happy." They can note the great things, like the fact that baby was already practicing breathing, something they weren't anticipating at almost 28 weeks. But, when you also hear the phrase, "I would mentally prepare for an early delivery," it's hard to feel much reassurance. Especially to already be staring down weekly monitoring for non-stress tests, ultrasound doppler checks, and growth scans every third week - it all just feels like a lot. That stupid classification of now being a "high-risk pregnancy" feels like a lot. 

Maybe the sleeplessness comes from already beginning to mourn hopes I had for this pregnancy. While we have no idea what it will hold, it certainly doesn't seem like we will be making it to our mid-December due-date. I'm already mentally preparing for the reality that I likely won't get to experience going into labor naturally this time around. An induction with my good old friend Pitocin is probably a strong possibility, if not an emergency c-section. In many ways I'm just praying that this baby can stay in there cooking as long as possible. 

At the end of the day, we just want a happy and healthy baby, and I guess the weekly monitoring is the best way to make sure all is well. I'd rather have our doctors be proactive about things than ending up in an emergency situation. I know that we have great doctors and a fantastic care team, but it is still a lot to take in as we turn the corner into the third trimester.

The mental gymnastics of holding all the fears and worries and feelings is scary; it's bringing all the feelings of inadequacy I felt with Abby back to the surface. How many times do people say to expecting persons, "your one job right now is to grow a healthy baby,"? So, how can fetal growth restriction not bring up feelings that I'm somehow failing at my one job right now? 

Just like I did with Abby, my mind fills with all the questions - am I doing something wrong? Is there something I'm doing to cause the baby not to grow properly? Is it because I run too much? Is my body just not capable of growing a baby like it's supposed to? 

And along with all those questions, my mind is already filling with a million more - how worried do I need to be? How quickly do things like this change? Will the weekly check-ins catch any changes or do I need to be concerned in between about whether baby is getting what they need from my placenta? Is placental insufficiency my fault or do things like this just happen? Is this the type of thing that results in stillbirth or losing the baby? What if I get rushed to an emergency delivery from a weekly check-in when I'm there alone? 

What if? What if? What if? 

And unfortunately, all those what if questions are unanswerable, or at least most of them. We have no idea what the rest of this pregnancy will look like. AND, I do know this -  this sweet baby is already loved more than words can say. It's like the baby knows I'm scared, so I'm getting even more kicks and wiggles than usual. My favorite are the ones where the baby kicks while Abby is cuddled up with me or sitting in my lap. My sweet, petite little babies who I love more than anything. I guess that's what I'm holding on to, all the love we have for this baby. I hope we have a while before we get to meet them on the outside, but I know that no matter what, love is what will hold us all together.