The beginning

 **When I started this short blog almost two years ago, my mind was very foggy and full of mostly just feeling things in waves and barely being able to process anything. I was fiercely protective of any information I shared regarding Adah and was somewhat scared to share my story in great detail because the emotions were just too new.  But I needed some kind of outlet at that time so that I wasn't constantly reliving things in my mind and so I could just share something about what was going on. About a year ago, I decided to write out my experience in greater detail and decided recently that I'd like to share some of that experience on this blog.**

I have been given the strange and initially most unwanted gift of having a very different perspective on pregnancy and motherhood. There are a great deal of women to whom the process of pregnancy comes easily. They think and plan to get pregnant and then they do. They carry and grow their unborn child to 37 weeks or more and then birth their child. It is the way things are expected to go. It is the way things go for a good portion of women. It is the way I had thought things would go for me. 

       Things didn’t really go the expected route for me even from the very beginning. I had heard and known several women who had a difficult time getting pregnant but of course there was a little voice in my head that said that probably wouldn’t happen to me. While I am beyond grateful I did not begin the long journey of infertility that I have seen some very strong women embark on, it took almost a year for me to get pregnant and by that time I had been through enough months where what I had wanted was just not happening that when I finally saw that I was pregnant I had a much deeper understanding for what a gift pregnancy is. From the beginning, I loved being pregnant. Even the times when I was so nauseous I felt like I was sea sick all day long for weeks and weeks, I knew that my body felt that way because I was growing a baby and so all that nausea was a reminder of this amazing gift. (I promise I am sincere in saying that). Don’t get me wrong though, I did not love feeling nauseous and having weird food aversions. But I did love what it signified.

    During the first trimester, I worried about miscarriage. I had read so many things that made it sound like you basically had to sit still for 3 months in order to not have a miscarriage. I figured if I made it through my first trimester then it would be a given that all would be okay. I almost didn’t even mention to my doctor that I had been born with a congenital birth defect (a cleft palate as a result of Pierre Robin sequence). At my second ultrasound appointment I asked my doctor if I needed to have any special testing done to see if my baby was at risk for having a cleft palate (I had already known there was a pretty low chance of my baby being born with Pierre Robin). My doctor said to be on the safe side, she would recommend I see the high risk OBGYN where they would do some testing and some fancy ultrasounds to make sure everything was okay. So, I somewhat grudgingly went to the high risk doctor and continued to go for semi regular visits, always having a little anxiety but generally just being excited that I got extra ultrasounds of my baby.

     Everything was going well in pregnancy land as I entered my second trimester and I loved getting to feel Adah move around and loved that I was showing. I was becoming accustomed to the high risk doctor and I figured since everything had been great that by my 28 week visit I would get to stop going to her. I even told Dustin that I was excited for that visit to hopefully be my last visit with her. Then I went to get my ultrasound and I heard Adah’s heart beat and I thought ‘okay, things are good, there’s the heartbeat’ and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then the ultrasound technician told me Adah’s weight and something seemed a little off about it so I asked if that was a normal weight and she said “no that’s actually really small. Then, the technician just walked out of the room, leaving a gaping black hole of fear and uncertainty in her wake. I had never even remotely considered that my baby wouldn’t be growing well. I didn’t even actually know that could be an issue. When the high risk doctor came in, she was very serious and discussed why it was concerning that Adah was small. She also let me know that my due date had been off and that I was actually only 27 ½ weeks pregnant. She told me that I wasn’t at a high risk for preterm labor but was definitely at risk for a preterm delivery and that if I made it to 37 weeks that would be amazing. An ocean of helplessness and fear encompassed my body and I was slowly sinking to the bottom. I initially was very angry with the high risk doctor because I felt that there had to be something that I could do to help Adah grow but she said there was nothing. She did not use the term Intrauterine Growth Restriction (IUGR). It was not until I followed up with my regular OBGYN that I heard that term. My regular doctor was very comforting and said that it was still a possibility that Adah could just be small for gestational age and that since I was on the small side it could make sense that Adah would be measuring small. Then I went home and googled IUGR and then cried and then told Dustin not to let me google anything for a while. It was a frustrating time of trying to learn more about IUGR so I could know what questions to ask my doctor and not reading so much that I was in a constant state of panic. Then I went to another ultrasound with the high risk doctor and my blood pressure was high and they said, essentially, ‘oh you’re going to become preeclamptic and there’s nothing you can do.’ This is a horrible thing to say to a pregnant woman. (By the way I never did develop pre eclampsia).  Around 30 weeks they recommended I start doing twice weekly non stress tests and monitoring my blood pressure every day. I don’t know what woman would find a lot of peace in that situation. It was heart breaking and terrifying to suddenly be thrust into the unknown, where the worst case scenario was becoming one of several potential realities. I still treasured my pregnancy and I was fiercely holding on to it. I began to eat several meals a day in hopes that the added protein would help give Adah a boost to her growth. I sung to Adah, I read to her, I talked to her, I prayed over her repeatedly and I pleaded with God to 1.let her grow and 2.let her somehow know how deeply I loved her, let her know I was fighting for her with everything I had.  I had another appointment with my regular OBGYN at 31 weeks. For the first time, my regular doctor who was normally so casual and breezy, was very serious. That made me more scared than all the other visits with the high risk doctor. My regular doctor told me to be prepared to deliver Adah any time I went to see the high risk doctor. She told me to go ahead and pack my hospital bag. She said that 34 weeks was now our goal and that being born at 34 weeks while not an ideal scenario was better than being born any time earlier. I then began to mentally prepare for Adah to arrive at 34 weeks. I adjusted my mind set to envision my first weeks with my newborn to be held in the NICU rather than at home. My baby shower was scheduled for the weekend before I would be 33 weeks. So, I thought as long as I could have my baby shower, I would be okay. I had an ultrasound appointment with my high risk doctor when I was 32 ½ weeks. I very distinctly remember being excited to go eat a big breakfast with Dustin after the appointment.
      There were a few red flag things the doctor had told us about that would most likely mean I would have to deliver if they happened. All of the things she had told us about turned out unchanged at that ultrasound but when we asked about Adah’s weight, we were devastated. She had only gained a few ounces in 2 weeks.  I knew that was not good news as soon as they told us the weight. The high risk doctor came in, for the first time looking warm and compassionate, and told me “lets deliver your baby today!” I cried. She told me my placenta looked no good and that it was time to start growing Adah on the outside. I asked if Adah had any indicators for Down Syndrome or any other genetic markers for chromosomal defects. She said no but there was ‘always the possibility that she could have an infection or cerebral palsy.’
      And so with this information, with my heart about as busted as it could get and still be beating, I did what many women do when they are distressed. I went to Target. I had an eerie calm about me as I was buying things to pack in my hospital bag. Dustin was in high panic mode and I was essentially coasting through this nightmarish reality. I had zero control of the situation. I couldn’t call in sick to my C-section. I couldn’t say “oh hey can we reschedule to next week?” I had no options but to have my very tiny baby delivered into a world that I knew would be much too harsh for her.