So that's what it was.....

I finally have a name for this strange pain I've experienced in my abdomen just a few times in the last couple of weeks... Braxton-Hicks contractions!

I first had one maybe a couple weeks ago, but thought it was just some really strong indigestion or acid build up in my stomach. It was sharp pain that radiated all over my abdomen. Sometimes I'd have to stop whatever I was doing just to brace myself until it went away. It only lasted several seconds, and if I changed positions, it would tend to dissipate.

Well, tonight, it was particularly strong, and lasted longer. It was the first time I put two and two together and ran to my pregnancy book to read more. That's when I discovered I've likely been experiencing BH contractions. Again, they are infrequent, there is no telling when they'll come, and I've only had maybe 3 in the last 3 weeks.

I wasn't aware BH contractions could happen this early, but, according to the book, it can happen as early as 20 weeks. I think my first was probably around 23 weeks. (I'm 26 on Monday).

I don't know why I think this is so cool, but this is one of the coolest parts of the pregnancy (for me), so far! I think it's because when I've always dreamed of being pregnant, I've never romanticized or really thought about the 9 months preceding the labor. (Except for getting a positive pregnancy test -- I've always wanted that). But when I've always thought about pregnancy, my mind has always jumped right to the labor and delivery. THAT, to me, is the most exciting part. It's the culmination of everything. It's getting to see what has been inside you for so long. To me, labor and delivery is the crescendo of the miracle.

SO, the fact that my body is "practicing" for the finale is just beyond cool to me!

Thank you, Jesus, for this gift.

20 Minutes Ago

20 minutes ago, this was going to be a very different post.

20 minutes ago, I was going to write what it is like to be pregnant for the first time (minus our early term miscarriage), with a second child. How, when you already have a child and are experiencing pregnancy for the first time, you are "robbed" of some of the pleasures of pregnancy.

You see, with a 2-year-old boy, I don't have time to sit on my couch, rub my belly, and dream what life will be like for our daughter. I don't have the luxury of coming home from work, and because I'm so fatigued, just going to bed. I don't have the pleasure of NOT getting up at 6:30 am on a Saturday because I'm so nauseated. It's no longer just me and my husband. We have a toddler to take care of -- together. (insert right here, mega gratitude for our son).

But, that was 20 minutes ago. Now, I feel silly (and selfish) for even thinking this way. 20 minutes ago, I learned a precious girl whose infertility journey I have followed since before we even got pregnant, lost her twins at 8 weeks. Yesterday, I learned another dear friend lost her child at 8 weeks.

God has catapulted me off my duff and right smack into: thankfulness. And I am. I know at any time up until now, and any time from here on out, He could allow Sienna to be taken from us. He could allow Brae to be taken from us. My husband, my mom, my sister, my everything. In a moment, I could be Job(ette).

And yet, God would still be the same. He'd still be loving, faithful, kind, good, amazing. And I would still be His cherished daughter whom He loves so much; for whom He sacrified His own son. (I can't say that I love anyone enough to sacrifice my son for death).

He would still be FOR ME. He would still know what is best. He would still cradle my life in the palm of His hands.

Yes, infertility has robbed me of a lot. But, in spite of it, God has given me so much more. He's given me a persepctive that, above all else, He is all I need.

He alone sustains me.

24 weeks.

We had our 24 week appointment today. I've gained a total of 8 lbs. A little on the low side, but the dr. didn't seem too concerned. However, even if I gain a pound a week from here on out, I still won't reach that "magic" 25 lb mark.

I just don't have a big appetite. And my stomach is still pretty uneasy, especially in the morning and at night. This morning, I even threw up for the first time since 19 weeks (minus the stomach flu episode). It caught me off guard. I thought I'd gotten past that.

I'm measuring right around 23-24 weeks. My uterus is now well above my belly button mark.
Sienna was kicking away, and beating around 150 bpm.

I have a new symptom: heartburn. I've never had heartburn before. I didn't even recognize it at first. I thought I'd swallowed something that was stuck in my throat. After a few days (yes, it took me that long), I thought, hmm, maybe this is what heartburn feels like? The burning in the chest, throat, etc. Yup, I think so.

I made my appointments for the rest of the term -- about 12 of them! We also start "birthing" class in April.

Tygh and I went out for Valentine's dinner last night and had a blessedly honest conversation. He said he just cannot be in the room with me when I start delivery. He'll be there up until I start pushing, and then he'll excuse himself until Sienna comes out and is "cleaned up." My husband has a very queasy stomach when it comes to this kind of stuff. When Brae was born, he was hovering in the corner most of the time, in a chair, head down. I was the one who cut the cord.

Sure, it's not how I pictured delivery -- I wanted my husband there, cheering me on, cutting the cord, etc. But, that is just not going to happen. And it's okay. Really. I'm honoring his wishes. So, instead, my mom and my sister will be there, each holding a hand, and urging Sienna into this world.

I praise and thank God for this amazing gift of pregnancy and getting a chance to just experience it. I finally feel at a place of peace and rest and settlement. I feel content. I'm looking forward to her being here, and enjoying something new -- a lack of wanting. A lack of wanting to be pregnant. A lack of yearning to move beyond infertility. I haven't experienced that since January 2007. I want that "me" back. I will take with me the post-January 2007 me, especially the closeness and intimacy I have with Christ that I didn't have before. I will take with me new gifts of empathy. A testimony. A surrender. But, I want (and my husband wants) to return to a more carefree lifestyle. One where growing our family does not consume our lives. I'm excited to move to the next season of life.

Brae update: Our son is a phenom. I kid you not. That boy has some SKILLS when it comes to basketball. We had a friend over the other night and he was in shock at how a 2-year-old can jump and shoot a basket (a high one) with one hand. He said we need to get a video and put it on youtube.

Potty training is another story. The boy is just.not.interested. He doesn't care if he craps his pants or has a wet diaper. I know boys take longer, so I'm not stressing. Maybe when he sees his "baby Sienna" (as he calls her) get her diaper changed, he'll realize diapers are for babies.

His Spanish is really picking up. The "experts" say that if a child learns 2 languages before age 2.5, their primary language lags behind a little bit at first, and then they catch up. Then, if you try to introduce a second language after the child starts reading, all hope is lost that they will ever truly be bilingual as second nature.

It's hard to say whether Brae's English is lagging behind. I know most boys are slower to speak and form sentences than girls. But, according to where the books say Brae is supposed to be at right now, he's surpassing it. He can recognize just about every letter in the alphabet by name(in English). He speaks (short) sentences. And he understands if you give him direction in English or Spanish.

I love that boy.

Hospitalized.

On Thursday evening, about 10 p.m., an upset stomach awoke me. I puked. I thought, maybe I shouldn't have eaten that bowl of ice cream. A half an hour later, I didn't feel better. I felt worse. I puked again. I thought, hmm, maybe this is pregnancy related? A half an hour later, I puked again, and out of, umm, other orifices, if you get my drift. At the same time. I thought, okay, I'm really sick.
Rinse and repeat for the next 7 hours. I couldn't even keep water down. I felt at death's doorstep. Sienna, for herself, was kicking up a storm.
Finally, at 5 am (my stubbornness held out for 7 hours), I called the on-call doctor. She said if I couldn't keep Sprite down, to go into the hospital for some IV fluid replacement.
I couldn't keep Sprite down.
My husband woke at 6:30 and I filled him in. He'd been clued in that something was wrong by all of the toilet flushings. I told him I felt I should go to the hospital, but that I wanted to get Brae up and off to school first.
Finally, at 8 am, we got to the hospital. I could barely walk, I was so weak. I was concerned about Sienna, and praying. They admitted me in the maternity ward (apparently, when you're sick and pregnant, you go to the maternity ward). I was hooked up to IV fluids, anti-nausea, and had blood work. My potassium levels were low, so then they started potassium supplements.
The doctor opined I had the 24-hour stomach bug (which I knew had been going around at Brae's school, and yet Brae wasn't sick (yet)). She said when you are pregnant, you are just even more vulnerable. And, with how sensitive my stomach has been during this pregnancy and hormones, I probably was an especially susceptible victim.
They hooked up the fetal heart monitor, and I got to hear Sienna beating away --at about 150 bpm. A blessed sound. Thank you, Lord.
The doctor said as long as I remained hydrated, Sienna should be fine. At this gestational age (22 weeks), they are very resiliant.
I stayed in the hospital for 8 hours, on bedrest, hooked up to fluids and anti-nausea. I only threw up once during that time -- after trying to eat some peaches. They asked if I wanted to stay the night. I said no. I wanted to go home.
A half an hour after I left the hospital, I puked again, after trying to eat some jell-o and toast. Clearly, the anti-nausea medicine, the same one I'd been on earlier in my pregnancy and had successfully kept me from throwing up, was not working. I was THAT sick.
I remained on death's doorstep until, truly, about 10 p.m. last night -- a full 24 hours after it started. And it left me almost as quickly as it had come.
Today, I'm still recovering. Can't eat a whole lot and very tired. But so thankful that the worse has passed.
And, I'm a little grateful. I feel like Sienna and I went to war together. And I feel more bonded to her.