I am having a Month. Starting in mid-February, I have not been home for more than 4 days at a stretch. I have two more trips to go before the end of March. Then I will finally (finally) be done traveling.
It’s some unholy convergence of a lot of work projects culminating all at once and also needing to get things out of the way before I can’t travel anymore. It is unbelievable how much harder it is to do this with Cayenne than without, and yet I have this obstinate need to prove to everyone that I’m not in fact having a hard time. I am not letting people carry my bags, I am not asserting my food needs very well,* and I am certainly not letting anyone even imply that maybe I’m not really up for this. Pure bullheadedness is what it is, and it ends with me lying down in a hotel room with my back all knotted up. When will I learn?**
Cayenne and I have reached 28 weeks. If he were to decide to come out (don’t come out yet), he would be more likely than not to survive. Shocking, that.
We had a bit of a scare at one of our ultrasounds when the tech saw an echogenic focus (a bright spot that can be a soft marker for various things, and can also be nothing at all). One day I will learn not to Google things. Unfortunately that day has not yet come, and I got myself all hopped up about Very Bad Outcomes. We had to meet with a geneticist and I had a fetal echocardiogram, but as it turned out the spot resolved itself and Cayenne seems to be doing fine. No need to worry about the Very Bad Outcomes (and if you think that has stopped me I’ve got a bridge to sell you).
I feel like I’m holding my breath all the time, waiting for the bad stuff to start. Really, bullheaded business-trip oneupmanship aside, this has been a remarkably smooth pregnancy, and I can’t help feeling that this is not supposed to be happening to me. I’m the one who’s broken, remember? How can I possibly be, right now, at this moment, gestating a fetus who is quite likely to be an Outside Baby in 9 short weeks? I am starting to imagine holding him. I can see his tiny scalp with downy hair, I can see myself cradling him and I can almost feel the weight of him sleeping on my shoulder, and it feels like hubris.
I will see the doctor again at the end of this week, and I’m going to try to get the C-section scheduled if possible. They want to do it at 36 or 37 weeks so that there is no chance of me going into labor. As it was explained to me, I actually have 5 separate incisions on my uterus right now (one for each fibroid), and each incision is a potential rupture point. They won’t let me wait any longer than 37 weeks because they’re so worried about what could happen if I go into labor. Of course my reaction is “Well, don’t worry about me! What about his lungs? Shouldn’t he stay in as long as possible?” And my doctors (remember, best in the state. Best in the state. Best in the state.) won’t even consider it. Apparently my arcuate uterus also puts me at risk for premature labor, so I think that’s also a factor in wanting to do it so early as opposed to waiting for 39 or 40 weeks.
I suppose like everything else about this process I will have to trust the doctors on this — but I do want him to stay in as long as he possibly can, so hopefully we can do it at the very end of 37 weeks. Which would bring him here on May 25.
* No, I really don’t want to eat meat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner … and have you heard of this new fad called FRUIT?
** And now I have the perverse need to reassure all of you that I’m not hurting the baby, only myself. By all indications Cayenne is doing great.