Saturday, July 1, 2017

Nightmares revisited: 18 weeks

18 weeks pregnant with Zoe and Alexis was 7 days past pprom. Statistically speaking, once you make it 7 days out, you actually have a good shot of going the distance. When I woke up that morning, still in intense pain, I tried to remind myself of that. Of how great it was that we'd made it 7 days out. Something ominous in the back of my mind told me that I wouldn't have to live with the pain much longer.

Alexis' water broke that afternoon and I went into labor. The girls were delivered the next day. As a result, I hold a special amount of hatred toward 18 weeks, and had been looking forward to Sunday, when at 18 +2, I would be more pregnant than I've ever been before.

Last Wednesday was my OB appointment. Baby's heartbeat sounded great. Otherwise, no issues. Nausea is finally not so constant, and OB was thrilled that I was up 4 pounds (according to her scale. Mine said 7.)

Thursday was normal. Work, home, nausea, normal.

Friday was normal, except that I had this odd feeling in the back of my mind that I should wear a pad. So I did. Which turned out to be good, because when I went to the bathroom around 4:00 pm, there was blood. I tried to calm myself that it was brown and therefore old, but once I wiped I got a lot of fresh, dark red blood.

18 weeks can go fuck itself.

I'm now 18+1, and bleeding is mostly brown. Not heavy enough to go in. My anatomy scan is on Friday. The anatomy scan I never attended with the twins, because I was (literally) delivering Alexis when it was supposed to happen. I'm scared. I love this little girl.

Zoe, Alexis, no matter what happens, please watch out for your sister, ok? Love, your mom.

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