Last week after our ultrasound, I was pretty much convinced Obi’s days were numbered. Then on Friday, my symptoms disappeared completely. No more nausea, no more sore chest. I sprung out of bed right as rain and thought huh, it’s like I’m not even pregnant. Then I freaked the F%$# out. Nurse at RE’s office moved my ultrasound up to Monday from Wednesday (bless her little heart).
Then my back started to ache and spasm and I was basically sitting around all weekend waiting to miscarry, hoping I’d make it to my ultrasound so I could at least see the baby and say goodbye.
I was awake half the night with back cramps and front cramps. All-in-all an unpleasant weekend.
Then, this morning at the ultrasound, the tech pushed and shoved and prodded and poked with the abdominal thingy. I was sure she was looking for something she couldn’t find. But, low and behold she turned the screen and said “Here’s the baby’s heartbeat!”. I cried. I have never been so happy to see a little blinky light in my entire life.
Obi’s heartbeat was 144 – a perfectly good rate for development age. Bebe is still measuring behind by 3-5 or so days (depending on how you count) but grew a full week in the week since the ultrasound.
My RE said “it’s good news today.” He reminded me that there’s no guarantee of a perfect outcome but we should celebrate this little win. He’s having us back for another ultrasound next week and likely the week after that (if we make it that far) to see if Obi catches up, stretches out (may be curled up and measuring small for that reason) or gives us reason to believe there is an issue.
When we learned about losing Olive, she measured 7w6d. Technically that’s tomorrow or Wednesday in this pregnancy. Hopefully Obi will measure 8 weeks when we see him again and we can take some comfort in that.
It’s not that I thought it would be easy, but I sure thought it would be easier than this.