Viability
Today I’m 24 weeks into my pregnancy. It’s the biggest milestone so far. Viability. Wesley is the size of a garden eggplant, a Sega Game Gear, or Mr. Potato Head depending on which site or app I’m consulting. People sometimes seem annoyed by the “__ weeks pregnant” vs “__ months,” but truthfully, in pregnancy, weeks matter, and months are complicated (I’m 5.52328 months pregnant, in case you’re wondering.) In layman’s terms, viability means that doctors would try their best to save Wesley if I went into labor now, and he would have a decent chance at survival albeit a likelihood of major medical issues. This chance of survival wasn’t the case even a week ago, when he was kicking as I listened to the Unplugged version of “Take on Me” by a-ha. That’s a hard pill to swallow. I’ve been blessed so far. Everything has looked good at the doctor at each appointment. As someone who is in Facebook groups with other women due around the same time, I can tell you, that isn’t always the case. I’ve cried and prayed over many other mothers who weren’t so lucky. Mothers who had losses at 5 weeks. 8 weeks. 12 weeks. Even 21 weeks. When I saw and heard all of the “about time” comments after we announced, I cringed each time. I cringed over basically every question about when we were going to have kids. And there were plenty. Probably hundreds of “whens” and “about times” from when we married 11 years ago to now. And I didn’t cringe for us. We have been lucky so far—we aren’t the couple who unsuccessfully tried for years, who suffered miscarriages, who went home and cried after comments like that. We just wanted to do things in our own time. But I know plenty of couples who have been through those things. And to be honest, every month of wishing you were pregnant and getting a negative test is tough. I probably shed more tears in the 5+ months of trying than I have during my 5+ months of pregnancy, and that says a lot coming from the woman who literally sobbed and decided she would be a terrible mother after spilling a glass of water about a month ago. It’s especially hard when people make those comments. You question everything. “Did I wait too long? Is it because I’m overweight? Is there something wrong with me? With my partner?” I also cringe for the times many years ago when I would have said the same thing...when I DID say the same thing. I cringe for the time that I asked when a friend was going to have kids, only to later find out that she had been trying to get pregnant for well over a year. If there is only one thing you get from this post, DON’T say those things. Being pregnant is exciting and terrifying at the same time. You hold your breath as you wait for the ultrasound tech to find the heartbeat for the first time, and watch in adoration as your partner fights back tears and squeezes your hand when he hears and sees that tiny person’s heartbeat on the screen. You feel your baby kick, and you wonder how you can love someone so much when you haven’t even met him. You wonder if he’ll have your love for music, or your partner’s beautiful blue eyes. You’ll decide it doesn’t matter, because you know he’ll be perfect to you. And somehow in the midst of that joy comes a fear that something may be wrong. Every time I had back pain or a cramp in that first trimester, I thought it was a miscarriage. The hormones are outrageous. People will comment on your weight, your baby bump or lack thereof, what you should or shouldn’t name your child, what you should or shouldn’t eat and drink while pregnant. They will say “you just wait until [insert random pregnancy or parenthood misery here]” as if you aren’t already scared enough, will comment on your child’s due date (I’ve had no fewer than 15 people tell me how awful it’s going to be for my kid to have a birthday in winter and/or close to Christmas). Yet I know that for every fear, or moment of heartburn, or sleepless night, or bout of vomiting, or shooting pain from sciatica, or moment of listening to yet another unsolicited comment about pregnancy/parenthood, there is a woman wishing desperately that she was in my shoes. I will take all the prayers and good thoughts that I can get for a healthy pregnancy and baby, but make sure you save some for those women too. They need them just as much. Signed, An Emotional Mom-to-be
