Before I share my birth story, I wanted to share a little about my pregnancy. My pregnancy journey was one that I would consider, for the most part, pretty normal. My first trimester was defined by morning sickness and food aversions, and by the ninth month, I was convinced I might be giving birth to a baby whale. Pregnancies are all so different. Even baby number one verses baby number two can be two completely different experiences. Call me crazy, but I love being pregnant. The good outweighed the bad in my case, and it gifted me something that changed my life in every way, but in the best way possible. I am truly excited to go through it all again someday.
I found out I was pregnant about four days before my missed period. I had a feeling I was pregnant, mainly because I get these weird dizzy spells, but I was still reluctant to test in fear of yet another negative result. I had miscarried four months prior, and the number of times I had rushed to the drug store for pregnancy tests in the previous three months was well over the number I should have. I wanted to have a successful pregnancy so bad it was almost an obsession. Having patience and waiting on God’s timing was a true test of my faith. I thank God every day for answering my prayers as soon as he did. If you’re struggling with infertility or pregnancy after miscarriage keep praying and have faith. God’s timing is always right. So, when I finally got the courage to take a test it was positive! I was so happy. I wish I could say I planned a really creative way to tell everyone, but I was way too excited for that. I told Matt through a phone call, which I might add was a step better than the first time I told him I was pregnant. Some might say it went a lot like that scene in The Office, the one where Oscar and Angela call to let the Senator know he’s about to be outed as gay on national television. Yea, we weren’t trying then. Surprise! I sent everyone else in my immediate family a picture of my positive test. I know, adorable right? (lolol) I didn’t publicly share the news until I was twelve weeks, but many of my close friends and family were already aware of our new little addition.
Food aversions and morning sickness were both first trimester plagues. My favorite breakfast, avocado toast, and egg whites were completely off-limits, and sometimes even brushing my teeth made me gag. I threw up at least once a day from eight to sixteen weeks and nothing could ease my nausea. If the constant feeling that I needed to barf wasn’t enough let’s add some southern summer heat in the mix. Miserable would be a good word to describe how I was feeling. Before I had Mia, I honestly didn’t know how women who went through this their entire pregnancies had more than one baby. Along with all that, I was also struggling with the changes my body was going through. I was stuck in this spot of wanting to see my belly grow, yet insecure of my baby bump. I learned to embrace the changes once I started truly feeling pregnant. Now, looking back I honestly feel most confident when I’m pregnant.
We learned our little Mia was a baby girl at fourteen weeks. We were in denial for a while. So much so that I took multiple gender reveal tests just to be sure. Not only us, but my entire family was sure that I was having a boy. Joke was on us. I can still see the look on Matt’s face when the ultrasound tech told us Mia was a girl. Again, I wish I could say we planned a cute gender reveal for our families, but we were both too excited to wait. From the moment I knew she was a girl the planning began. I started renovating her soon to be room and browsing all the baby clothing shops. I couldn’t believe it, having a baby girl was a dream come true. Let me just say, it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. I’m definitely a girl mom.
All my doctor’s appointments had been going great up to this point, our twenty-week anatomy scan was coming up and I expected nothing but great news. When I had the scan my doctor informed me that they noticed some abnormalities in regards to her brain. The diagnosis was sub choroid plexus syndrome. Our doctor reassured us that in most cases this issue is nothing to worry about, and most subside by twenty-six to thirty-two weeks. Although I had the utmost confidence in my doctor, it’s hard not to worry when someone says there’s something wrong with your child. I had been experiencing some pregnancy anxiety, but this really set it off. My miscarriage was brought back to the forefront of my mind, and I realized how scared I had been of it happening again. I felt like I had been holding my breath for the past twenty weeks, and it all just got so much worse. I wish I could say that feeling went away, but it was something I had to learn how to manage for the remainder of my pregnancy. After a series of ultrasounds, my doctor referred me to a high-risk physician. It just so happens that at that appointment I found out the cysts had gone away on their own. I have never been so thankful and relieved.
By the third trimester all the crazy things were happening. I was taking TUMs like candy, and getting up every two hours at night to pee. It was nearly impossible to get comfortable enough to sleep with a belly the size of a beach volleyball, not to mention the restless legs. I touched on this in my blogpost, Pregnancy: the good, the bad, and the unexpected. I would shuffle my legs, in the words of Lionel Richie, ALL NIGHT LONG. I also got a cold and cough so intense I had to resort to adult diapers. No shame. My bladder still hasn’t recovered. I barely passed my glucose test and trying to find clothes that were comfortable and cute wasn’t easy. It was a struggle, to say the least.
At twenty-eight weeks, what I thought was my petite baby was measuring almost six pounds. I don’t know why, but I was completely shocked. If you don’t know I’m a petite girl, five feet tall and 130lbs at nine months pregnant, so a six-pound baby at nearly seven months wasn’t something I had planned for. Here I was assuming Mia would max out at a little over six pounds because apparently in my mind my genetics were obviously dominate. I even remember telling my mom to, “look at me mom, there’s no way I’m having a big baby.” I was wrong about that, so wrong. Mia is her dad’s twin in every way. As the weeks went by little girl was continuing to grow, so much so she was on track for ten pounds by forty weeks. Um, can you repeat that, please? I couldn’t imagine delivering a baby that was eight pounds let alone ten. It was a possibility seeing my husband was nearly ten pounds at birth himself, and he was three weeks early. I was very open with my doctor about giving myself my best shot at a natural delivery, and she was too. She wasn’t confident I could naturally birth a ten-pound baby, so we started discussing our options. At thirty-six weeks I was dilated to 1.5cm and seventy-five percent effaced. At thirty-eight weeks still no baby. My doctor and I agreed induction was the best option for me. So, by the next week, we would be having a baby!
Reliving my pregnancy makes me eager to experience it again. Despite the uncomfortable times, I will gladly welcome back all the pregnancy symptoms when the time is right. Pregnancy changed my life in the best way possible, and it gifted me the most precious thing in the world. I feel like I’m holding a living breathing part of my heart when I hold Mia, and I would go through all the dreadful symptoms a million times a million to have her here with me.
Stay tuned for my birth story coming soon.
XO
-KP
