35 weeks

Holy smokes! Thirty-five weeks! The baby looked great at our weekly date, though he was a little slower to complete his eight-part test this time around. I think the doctor and I were talking too much. He doesn't move much when there are sounds around.

We are all starting to get really excited about meeting the baby. The boys talk about him all the time. I've switched into hunter/gatherer mode, trying to collect all the things (baby and otherwise) that we'll need once he arrives (including Ziplock bags and brown sugar and other send-to-Ukraine necessities). Since we live in a trailer, we can't stock up too terribly much, but I'm doing the best I can with the space we have.

Sometimes my excitement scares me. I catch myself longing to snuggle the baby, and then I remind myself that snuggling the baby is not a foregone conclusion. Ah, the burden of pregnancy loss. I'd love to shed it. But, it's a true part of our history, and it seems most honest to live with the reality of our experiences and the emotions they bring, even when they're difficult.

When we decided to try again to get pregnant, I had this grand idea that we'd have a smooth, joy-filled pregnancy, which would somehow redeem the hard experiences. Of course, I didn't think I'd forget those lost babies (nor do I want to), but I thought that I'd have the faith to have a fearless pregnancy. And while I am so, so thankful that I mostly don't live in fear, it's still there, creeping in around the edges, wanting to steal my joy. As Lucinda says, "You've got no right to take my joy, I want it back."

Even Dietrich carries the burden, frequently following his statements about when the baby's born with if he's born. Dietrich, in general, has a hard time handling disappointment. Today, Lev faced a disappointment, and Dietrich suggested that I change the situation so that his brother wouldn't have to feel sad. Which is sweet, but we want our kids to learn to handle disappointment, to ultimately trust God through pain. Thankfully, most childhood disappointments are (long-run) fairly insignificant. (Lev's issue today was not being able to watch the TV show of his choosing.) But we've faced some big disappointments as a family, some big pain, and Dietrich hasn't escaped untouched. Which is sad but, again, our reality.

Eric's about halfway through his visit to Ukraine. This week, he's out of contact other than 10 minutes online each day. He expected that we'd only call his cell in case of emergency, so we really freaked him out when we called to sing Happy Birthday yesterday. We have a lot of birthdays to celebrate once he gets back -- his 40th, plus my 37th and Dietrich's 7th. And another as-yet unknown August or September (probably September, but oh how I hope for August) birthday when the baby's born.

34 weeks

I've had two "dates" with our little guy since I last wrote, and both have been totally smooth. He's earned a score of eight out of eight on his "are you healthy baby?" test within five minutes. (If I understand correctly, babies get up to 30 minutes to complete the test.) Clearly, he's a genius!

While Eric was in Michigan last week, I toured the hospital where we plan to deliver. It's a small hospital in the middle of vegetable fields. The drive is so pleasant and takes only 15 minutes. The labor and delivery rooms have recently been remodeled, and they are deceptively lovely, in a hotel room kind of way. (Of course, there's a lot of medical equipment hiding within those shiny dressers.)

The only potential drawback is that we might have to share a room post-delivery. Here's a word problem for you math fans: If a hospital has nine, two-bed rooms and averages 40 deliveries a month, with each delivery averaging a two-night stay, what are the chances I'll have to share a room? 

Eric flew out Tuesday to Ukraine. Unless baby makes an early appearance, he will return Aug. 20. He's going to our team's annual conference next week and having meetings and such. He travels a lot, so I was surprised at how emotional I felt when we dropped him off at the airport. I guess I love him like crazy.

Dietrich did Vacation Bible School this week, next week we have a few dates with friends lined up, and the week after that, we're going to start getting our little trailer home ready for baby, so hopefully the days won't pass too slowly, even though my patience is at an all-time low (my poor kids). 

32 weeks

We went to the OB yesterday, and we will have dates with the little guy every week from here until his birth. My OB is a one-man practice, and we were on our way to his office Wednesday when he got summoned to the hospital (I assume for a birth). So we rescheduled for the next day.

Because we didn't have any childcare available for Thursday, we took the already-born boys with us.

Dietrich's reaction: "It was a little fun. It was cool. I liked the part where you could see almost all of his body."

Lev's reaction: "He had a mouth."

Baby's practicing his breathing (a good sign), has a heartbeat (quite necessary) and is measuring 31 weeks 2 days, which is a little bit behind, but just a little bit, plus it's consistent with how he's been growing for months now.

People are commenting all the time on my belly, which is funny because I don't feel THAT pregnant yet, especially from the front. There's a lot more growage to come in the next eight weeks.

31 weeks

I've reached that point in pregnancy where people assume that I must be weeks, not months, away from delivery.

"How much longer?" "Two months." "Two weeks?" Nope. Months.

"Are you sure there aren't twins in there?" As this must be one of the most-ultrasounded pregnancies ever, yes, I am sure.

But, hallelujah, we've made it to this rather-rotund point!

We had a scare two weeks ago, at 29 weeks. First, I felt really strange on Friday morning. Spaced out, like you feel during late labor (but without contractions). That feeling went away after a couple of hours, and the rest of Friday and Saturday were normal. Until midnight, when I tried to go to sleep and felt so much pressure that I felt sure that my water was about to break. After two hours of trying to get comfortable, I called my OB, who suggested I head to the hospital to make sure I wasn't dilating. That was one strange drive. I truly thought that we were about to meet our little guy.

Thankfully, I wasn't in labor, but I did have a massive UTI that had snaked its way up to my kidneys. That earned me a 32-hour vacation in the hospital so that I could have IV antibiotics.

The nurses were quite apologetic, "We're so sorry, we're going to have to check you in." "We're so sorry, we can't find a vein to put your IV in." "We're so sorry, we have to wake you up at 4 a.m. to take your temperature."

I was a broken record: "Oh, that's OK. The baby's fine!" They also monitored the baby every eight hours, and it was so fun to hear his quick little heartbeat filling the room for an hour at a time.

The big boys came for a short visit. In the 10 or so minutes they were there, Lev managed to push the nurse-call button and adjust my bed into such an odd shape that it could hardly be called a bed anymore. Sweet Dietrich brought me his new Wonder Woman action figure to sleep with.

Next week, we start going to the OB every week to make sure that the baby's getting adequate oxygen and nutrition. My frequent prayer for our little guy: "Give him this day, his daily bread."

We've gotten into a good rhythm here. The kids know what to expect each day. Dietrich's Ukrainian lessons via Skype seem to be helpful, and both boys love having easy library access. Eric just started teaching a class on apologetics at the church I grew up in, and the boys are doing swim lessons this week and next. The pace of our days is quite manageable, especially when the temperatures don't top 100. When they do, I start to wonder how I'll make it through the next nine weeks.

Of course, now that we've found a good rhythm, we're gearing up for a change: Eric starts traveling in a little more than a week. First to Michigan, then on to Ukraine for the first three weeks of August. Here's hoping he doesn't miss a birth!

27 weeks

On Monday, I went to the regular OB for a follow-up visit after our very encouraging ultrasound on June 1. He checked the baby's heartbeat, then spelled out the treatment plan for the rest of the pregnancy. The three risks we still are facing are intrauterine growth restriction, pre-eclampsia and preterm labor. So, this baby will be closely monitored until he is born. We will have growth ultrasounds every four weeks, starting June 21 (28 weeks). And starting at 32 weeks, I will go in weekly for something akin to a non-stress test.

I realized as I drove away from the doctor's office on Monday that I don't even know at which hospital he delivers babies. We haven't discussed any aspects of the labor-and-delivery process with him. I think I arrived here not really expecting that I'd end up delivering this baby, so such questions didn't seem really important at the time. We have so much more hope now. I have a feeling I will be bringing a long list of questions with me to my next appointment. 

25 weeks 2 days

We had our level 2 ultrasound at the specialist's office today. In the past week or so, I had developed this secret hope that after the ultrasound, the doctor would walk in and say something along the lines of, "Your baby seems perfectly healthy." I hardly dared hope it, given our history and the stress of the past two months.

But guess what? THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED.

The day could not have gone better. We were super early because when people in Northern California say, "Traffic," they mean you might have to slow down to 30 for a few minutes. Being from Southern California, we'd given ourselves double the time needed to get there.

The ultrasound tech turned out to be the same guy who told us, in a very direct manner, that Luke had died 11 months ago. Poor guy; I bet he has to deliver lots of bad news like that. He was much more cheerful today. He even made lots of jokes about how immodest our little boy is. 

The ultrasound machine was incredible. Because a spinal problem had been suggested as a cause of our abnormal test results, he spent a ton of time on the spine. The machine could turn the ordinary ultrasound image into what looked like a movable model of the spine. It was incredible.

He saw nothing at all wrong with the brain. I believe his exact comment was: "Great brain." 

We had just one scary moment. He spent a long time looking at the baby's heart (again, amazing imagery), and then asked: "In Ukraine, did they mention any problems with the heart?" After we explained what the doctor had told us (something very hard to understand about the EKG image looking abnormal), he said, "OK, well, I just asked because it looks perfect to me."

And so it went. All good news.

So, it looks like probably there isn't a problem with the baby. (It's hard to be definitive because there's a lot an ultrasound can't see -- but as the doctor said, "No major systemic problems.") Which means that our abnormal test results probably indicate a problem with me -- likely with the placenta. So, we remain at a higher risk of eclampsia, early labor or restricted growth. But the doctor was really reassuring, even about those risks. And the bigger the baby gets, the less dangerous even those risks are.

Next step: Go back to the normal OB in 10 days to figure out what the follow-up plan will be. Until then: Rejoice!

25 weeks

The big ultrasound is coming up on Friday. It could be life-changing. It could be reassuring. It could be inconclusive. As someone who likes to plan and (let's face it) be in control, it's pretty hard to know what to anticipate when the options are so varied. I'm actually doing okay during the day, but my anxiety is creeping into my dreams.

Before the ultrasound, we get to welcome Eric and Dietrich back from Southern California. We'll pick them up tomorrow around noon, and tomorrow evening we will celebrate Lev's third birthday.

Lev's actual birthday was Tuesday, but we thought we'd wait for the rest of the family before we partied. Our celebratory window is small: Our ultrasound is first thing Friday morning, and I will drive Eric directly to the airport on the way home so that he can fly to Michigan for a funeral.  

We got the shocking and sad news last week that one of our teammates, Bob Divozzo, died of a heart attack. He and his wife, Sherri, had served in Kyiv for 12 years. We admired so much about them, especially their honesty and their commitment to ever-improving relationships. The two of them were an amazing team, and if we are as happily married in 30 years as they were, it will be thanks, in part, to the example that they (and others) provided.

I'm really glad that Eric is able to support Sherri in her grief by going to the funeral, but please do pray that God will provide all the strength and peace that I need to care for Dietrich and Lev while he's gone, especially if the ultrasound proves life-changing.