Viability scan.

SO, we had the all-important viability scan yesterday .... and it went great! Baby's heartbeat is 175 (wow!), and the dr. said he/she is VERY active. We saw it moving its arm all around, trying to put its foot in its mouth, and even kicking me (although I couldn't feel it). Two arms, two legs, and the Downs scan looked excellent. (Yes, we ended up getting it -- even though I still didn't want to, Tygh insisted it was for his peace of mind, so I honored that). I guess they want to see something less than 3 mm in the neck fold, and the measurement the dr chose was something like 1.9, so very good.

They also ran some blood tests, and those will come back in the next week or so.

SO, all in all, looks like we have an acrobat on our hands, and I must say, with that heartbeat, I think it may be a girl....

And, today, I turn 31 -- the same age our female donor was when this embryo was created -- 9 years ago!

Can you even wrap your head around that? Wow.

Shots and Downs.

I got the much-anticipated news this morning that I am done done done (!) with the shots! (Well, at least until next week when my levels get checked again). I've been off estrogen for about a week, and this morning, my bum thanked me for not poking it today.

This means (I'm told), that my placenta is now producing the hormones on its own in sufficient quantities that I don't need supplementation. Can I get an Amen! to that?

We are 12 weeks, 1 day today. By some calculators, that is the end of the first trimester. However, I also keep getting told that 13 weeks is now the "magic marker."

I'm still very nauseous and vomiting at various times of the day. Even with the meds. I try really hard not to take the meds unless I feel absolutely brutal, which means I'm taking one about every other day. I think I may be able to handle the nausea if I didn't have a 2-year-old to run after. But that, on top of work, just makes it very difficult to get through the day feeling like this. Again, the burden that comes with the blessing, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Friday we go in for our "first trimester screening". This is where they can do a bunch of measurements, blood work, etc. to gauge the "viability" of the fetus. They can also look for Downs Syndrome.

If you recall from my last post, I didn't want to do this screening. I still don't want to do this screening. Three reasons primarily: 1) the results won't change our plans -- we intend to continue with the pregnancy; 2) it can result in false positives; and 3) how much of a leg up will I really have knowing if the child has Downs? This child will still need to be loved, fed, changed, bathed, etc. The physical needs (as I understand it) of a Downs infant are the same for a non-Downs infant. I just want the ultrasound to say hi to the gummy bear again.

But my husband disagrees. He thinks it would be important to know and prepare, if necessary.

We've agreed to disagree and separately pray about it. For me, I still feel convicted we should not do the test. However, I also want to submit to my husband's decision. (You ever heard the great quote -- if wives knew what it REALLY meant to "submit to their husbands" -- they would never not do it? Because, submitting to their husbands means that wives get to duck while God knocks the husbands to their rear).

So, it will probably be a game-time decision.

My first (ever!) ob appointment

Today, I walked into the familiar as a very unfamiliar person. I stepped foot into my ob/gyn's office for the first time as a pregnant person. My husband, sitting next to me, remarked what I'd always cringed at, "Wow. There are a lot of pregnant women here." No wonder I was depressed every time I had to get a pap smear, or worse, a blood test to confirm that I was, in fact, not pregnant.

Strangely, I didn't feel that different. I still looked at the big bellies and thought, hmmm... maybe one day. I didn't think, oh, I'm one of them now.

The doctor visit itself was great. I love our ob. First things first, he did an ultrasound. Much less fancy than the fertility clinic I'd been going to. The baby popped up and did a big kick. The doctor remarked, "Wow, that was a big kick. I bet you it's a boy." (I was just so thankful to see a baby still in there). And then we saw the heartbeat. We didn't get to hear it or measure it, but the dr. thought it was around 150-160. I'm still measuring a day behind -- so 10 weeks, 6 days. I'm 11 weeks, 0 days today.

We told the doctor all about NEDC and our embryo adoption. He was just so cool about it all. After working with him for just about 3 years now, he was just so happy to see us pregnant. He even remarked, "We've done just about everything with you, haven't we?" as he scanned through my chart. Tygh and I just groaned and nodded. What a long and weary road it has been to get to this harvest ground.

Funny tidbit: I can no longer button my pants. I'm relegated completely to stretchy pants. People have noticed. I no longer count being fashionable as one of my traits. So, as you can imagine, I turned around when they weighed me. I didn't want to see that dreaded number. And then, the nurse said, "Well, I won't tell you what your number is, but I'll tell you it's the exact same number as it was when you were here last (like 6 months ago)."

Hmm... not really sure how to take that one...

We have another ultrasound after Thanksgiving, and then a 15 week ultrasound, followed by the big 20 week ultrasound. The next ultrasound is where they can measure a bunch of things on the baby to see if it may have downs syndrome. Tygh and I have talked briefly about it, and we don't think we're going to ask for that measurement. First, it won't matter what they say -- it doesn't change our plans about having this baby. And second, our donors had the same test performed on their twins. For their daughter, the doctors thought she had downs syndrome because of the measurement. So, the entire pregnancy, they were preparing for a downs baby. She came out perfectly healthy. I don't want to go through that agony if the only way to really know is when the baby comes out. (Please don't read this to think I think having a downs baby would be agony --- it's preparing and planning for something when it turns out you didn't have to --- that's the agony).

I'm a grateful mess. Grateful because of the obvious. A mess for other reasons. I just escaped a bladder infection (took a bunch of meds before it got bad); have been on anti-nausea meds, which makes me "infrequently void;" eating a ton of fiber to counteract that issue; had a minor freak out because I learned I'm not supposed to eat lunchmeat (3 turkey sandwiches too late); I walk funny because of all the bruising on my bum; and I frequently have to go to my car at work just to get some rest. All this while being so grateful for this God-given gift, and yet trying to function in life.

I have been able to wean off the estrogen pills, but am still two shots a day with the progesterone. I have another blood test tomorrow to see if my body is starting to produce it on its own (oh, please, Lord!). I catalogue the awful thoughts that we'll be on PIO shots until Christmas, or, gulp, for the whole 9 months. (You see how scary my mind is?)

But the biggest thing is that I've learned this pregnancy doesn't satisfy. It's not fulfilling. For as long and as much as I've wanted this -- it is NOTHING compared to what Christ has done to fill voids in my life. It was actually surprising and caught me a little off guard to realize this, and then when I did, I can't believe I ever thought otherwise. I can't believe how many times I tried to trump God by putting pregnancy on a pedestal.

Please don't misunderstand - I want this pregnancy, and I already love this baby inside of me. But nothing, no baby, no pregnancy, nothing, can ever complete me the way my relationship and salvation with God does. It has taken this blessing for me to realize that the true gift is in just Christ Himself. That's it.

I'm going to be a "professional" blogger!

God has asked, and I've said yes.

I just got a call from NEDC and they have asked me (along with a couple others) to be a blogger on their website, chronicling my journey through this experience.

Mind you, they have asked me, at different times, and by different people, on 4 different occassions now. I'd never really responded before, thinking, do I really want to be that vulnerable to THAT many people?

However, when I got the phone call today, I just felt God saying, "I want you to do this." I was convicted. It was confirmation that He wanted me to be vulnerable, and to trust what He is up to.

I believe He's called us to adopt, and this is one of our platform issues. NEDC said this blog site is sponsored through a grant, and the most popular portion of the site are the expectant moms. If I can in any way be a voice in the fog to those who are thinking about doing embryo adoption, it is an extreme honor and privilege, and I will do it, gladly.

And, bonus, I get paid! (It's not a lot, and I certainly would do it for free, but it makes me a "professional" blogger!)

A boy turns 2 and an embryo becomes a fetus

We celebrated our son's 2nd birthday this weekend with a Halloween costume party. Brae was Charlie Brown. Saturday, a bunch of toddlers and youngsters gathered at a warehouse full of inflatable jumping toys and had a ball! We were so blessed in that my sister and sister-in-law (and nephew!) each drove 3 hours to join the festivities, only to turn right around to drive back home (thank you girls!). And Brae was surrounded by lots of family and friends who love him.

Then Sunday, his actual birthday, we spent the day lounging around and I put together all of his toys (why are they so difficult to assemble?). It is such a blessing to have him in our lives. He's now counting to ten (in Spanish and English), and he can sing his ABC's with you. We've started working on identifying letters. He is OBSESSED with "b-ball", aka basketball. Seriously, you've never seen a boy more taken with an orange ball and a basket. This obsession is now about 2 months old, and I don't see it waning.

He is now sleeping in his big boy bed (until he falls out of it, which so far, has just happened once). And he is still using a binky (I know, bad mommy). I figure he'll get rid of it one day -- I mean, he's not going to be in kindergarten with a binky.... is he? It hasn't slowed down his chatter, and it seems to provide him some comfort, so what the heck. And yes, he may end up sucking his thumb, and if he does, he'll be just like his mommy. (if it sounds like I'm trying to justify using the binky when I know I shouldn't, you are exactly right).

And then shifting to Brae's sibling. Today was our 9 week ultrasound. This is when the embryo officially becomes a fetus. The ultrasound was the best so far (thank you Jesus!). The dr. said the baby was "giganormous," even though he/she is measuring 8 weeks, 6 days (plus or minus 1 day), which is just right. We got to hear the heartbeat and it was 174 (another miracle). We even got to see him/her kick a leg! All in all, a miracle in the making. And none of it has anything to do with me.

I'm generally in line with the camp of ladies who have the all-day sickness. (Please don't think I'm complaining -- I see each and every symptom as a reminder of a miracle, for which I am deeply grateful). I've thrown up once, and dry heave most every morning. Steadily, as the day wears on, I get a little less nauseous, as long as I'm eating small meals. Then, in the evening, the nausea creeps up again. It feels like really bad car sickness. That's my strongest symptom right now. The fatigue doesn't bother me as much as my stomach does. I get up about 5 times each night to go to the bathroom, and am not sleeping well because of the nausea. My boob.ies are sore and have this highway of blueish veins circulating around under the skin (sorry if TMI, but this is just fascinating to me). I've had to start unbuttoning some of my jeans, mostly because of the bloating. Next up is a visit with my "regular" Ob/gyn next Thursday.

Thank you so much to each of you who has steadily walked this journey with me. Your love, support, and prayers mean more than you can possibly know.

xoxo

Britney