THE RISKS AND UNKNOWNS OF PREGNANCY

As I sit here and stare at my belly—it hasn’t gotten much bigger. I’m not complaining but….
I’m almost 5 months and these past few days I have been getting nervous. For one thing, 2 weeks ago I was ‘feelin’ the pregnancy.’ I was uncomfortable and had been having major back pain. But it dawned on me today that I haven’t felt baby movement in all these 19 weeks. Strange, for a mother who’s done this 5 times now. I know what to look for and well…there hasn’t been any activity.

Then I realized that I have lost weight in my abdomen. My pants fit better and I can still get the zipper up. My regular underwear still has “wiggle room” {ha ha. Stupid pun.} So….you put those 2 facts together—and I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I called the Dr. on call and they had me go into the hospital to get things checked out.

“What do you do at 19 weeks if things are bad? Do you do a D&C?” I asked.


“Well, no,” she said soberly.

They actually induce you, give you an epidural, and let you deliver the baby. Only, in this case, it wouldn’t be a live one. Envisioning that I could be going through that today, I cried. I cried for my loss, I cried for the trauma it would put me through to know that I would always remember delivering a dead baby, seeing it, and then thinking of burial, always remembering the baby I lost. Then, because I’m hormonal, I cried for all the mothers who have been in this situation—who have ever lost a baby. I was reminded of a dear friend of mine who lost hers at 6 months but they could do nothing for that child as it breathed for an hour then passed away. I cried for her all over again.

So, today was kind of a weepy day wondering if that would be my fate.

Walking into the hospital, I was nervous. I was afraid of the results, afraid of staring at a listless baby on the ultrasound, unmoving, the heart silent as it confirmed my fears.

Then a part of me wept on the inside—knowing how many mothers have gone through a similar situation. And then I wanted to cry again at the turmoil and relief I felt when they found the heartbeat and discovered that everything was okay.

Relief swept through me that my baby was alive—but then grief replaced it for all the mothers who didn’t get their happy ending. And I knew, no matter what the results were; I knew 3 things for an absolute certainty.

1— I knew I was meant to be pregnant and meant to go through this right now in my life. Relying on our religion and our faith, I knew that this was what I needed to do—even if it meant I wouldn’t get anything out of it in the end.

2— I KNOW the spirit of this child. I know for a fact that this little baby inside me has a gentle, sensitive, sweet spirit and demeanor. There is a sense of gentility that has surrounded the presence of this child. It was and is a special baby. I already know the temperament and personality of this child and I haven’t even met my baby yet.

3— I knew that no matter what happened—whether this baby lived or died before birth—I would never, ever try and get pregnant again. There is a sense of finality, a sense that I am emotionally, mentally, and physically pushed past the limits of what I can endure during pregnancy and I am done. I just can’t do it even one more time. Maybe if pregnancies were easier for me, I would have a different perspective, but no matter what happens, I am done.

I am content with 4 kids, but today, I mourned the loss of baby #5—and realized that even though the idea of 5 kids is overwhelming, I still want this child. But, now that we know baby #5 is well, healthy, and we’ve had the great confirmation of hearing the heartbeat, I still feel strongly that I still want to adopt some day. Physically, this is my last child, but…is it a wishful dream, or is it inspiration, or a promise of the future that I see a little boy with brown hair in Romania waiting for our family?

I still have to ponder that one.

So even though I am doing better tonight than I was this morning, my heart is still heavy. I want to say to those of you who didn’t get your happy ending, I knew today that no matter what happened—even being just 19 weeks—I still had a baby waiting for me. And I believe it for those who have lost theirs. There was at some point, a baby with a heartbeat living inside us—a spirit possessing that fragile little body, alive and thriving. No matter the outcome, they are still ours.

And they will always be.