Our 32 week appointment on September 2 started out just like any other appointment, only this time we knew we would be having an ultrasound to check on the location of my placenta, since it was a partial previa at 20 weeks. The ultrasound went just like any other, and we got several new pictures of our little man...
They did some measurements and they estimated his weight to be just over 5 lbs, which is ahead of schedule and put him in the 87th percentile at 32 weeks. His heart rate was 155. We even got to see some hair he has on the back of his head - my boy is already rocking the horseshoe that my Dad used to have. Nice.
The tech was unable to completely determine the position of my placenta so we had to resort to the ever-popular internal ultrasound. Yuck. She pointed out the cervix, the placenta, etc. and it looked pretty clear to me that the cervix was covered. She didn't really say anything, and I sort of feel like they're not allowed to tell you either way.
After waiting an eternity in the waiting room and in the office waiting for the doctor, she finally came in and told us how everything was perfect with his weight, my weight, his heart rate, my blood pressure, and so on. And then she said it appears as though my placenta did not move up, but in fact moved down so I now have complete placenta previa and that I would be having a c-section. I don't really remember much after that, I just remember that I started crying. A lot. We were so in shock that we didn't get to ask any questions. I remember the doctor saying something about the possibility of him staying in the NICU since he will be born between 36-37 weeks. The only other thing I remember was her telling us to take as much time as we needed in the room before leaving, and that her scheduler would call us to set up the surgery.
To make matters worse, as soon as we left the doctor's office, I had to drop Ryan off at work for an overnight business trip to Atlanta. He NEVER has to leave town for work, but naturally he would have to on the one night that I really didn't want to be alone. Luckily, my brother was in town staying with us so it was good to have him there as someone to talk to and as a distraction. But, obviously, it wasn't the same. I had a million thoughts going through my mind, I couldn't stop crying most of the day, and basically I was scared to death. I will never forgot the love and support we received from our family and friends that day after our news started spreading. I had to keep my phone on the charger all day long due to so many texts and phone calls from people reassuring me that everything will be okay.
Over the next few days, I ran through just about every emotion that you can imagine. I was scared that he won't be fully developed when he's born and will have to stay in the NICU; scared to be cut open; scared of the recovery; scared of having to have a blood transfusion. I felt guilty and that I had done something wrong to cause this; guilty that he won't have a "normal" birth; guilty that I was letting this news of having a c-section cause me to forget that having a baby by any means necessary really is a miracle. I felt angry that many women choose an elective c-section when they could have a normal birth. The list of emotions goes on and on. I prayed and prayed for peace and acceptance and I truly believe I received it. And then something that Ryan said to me really changed my outlook altogether. He said, "When we decided we wanted to have a baby, if someone would have told you that you could get pregnant immediately but you would have to have a c-section, you would have immediately taken that offer." And you know what? He was right. I started to think about couples who spend their entire lives and all of their money trying to have a baby and never succeed. Any of those women would probably tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself and I'm sure they would be happy to trade places with me.
Once we accepted our circumstances, we started making lists of everything we need to buy and do before the most important day of our lives: October 3, 2012. We also worked on a list of questions for the doctor at our next appointment. Speaking of our doctor, we soon got a call that our OBGYN that we absolutely love and trust have complete faith in, would not be able to do my c-section because she herself had to have surgery. Punch to the stomach #2. All my fears were back and I was a complete mess once again. We have never met ANY of the other doctors in the practice, and now one of them would be having a close, personal relationship with a knife and my stomach. Awesome. We talked to several people and did a lot of research on our two options to do the surgery, and finally one of the
ladies in the doctor's office really helped us decide who we should choose. She really went out of her way to make sure I made the right decision, and I can't express how much I appreciate that.
We met with our new doctor yesterday and things couldn't have gone better. We really loved her personality and she spent a lot of time with us answering my onslaught of questions. Ryan loved her because she did "the robot" dance when we were talking about my robotic surgery last year, and also because she confirmed that his operating room outfit does in fact look like what Dexter wears when he takes someone to "his table." That's probably not an image I'm going to forget when I see him from my position strapped down to the OR table.
So we've come a long way from where we were (or specifically where I was) two weeks ago when we got the news about the change of plans. I still have my moments where I cry about it, and I also have moments where I wish the c-section were sooner. I'm all over the place but I know that I can't be so upset or scared about something that I can't change. This is how it was meant to be. Nothing can change the reality of the fact that in two weeks from right now, I will be holding my newborn baby. And that's really the only thing that matters to me.
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