24 Weeks Pregnant - We Made it to Viability!

This is a milestone week for Nugget and I, a week that I wasn’t sure that we would ever get to. After being told over and over again that my baby may face his demise in what should be the safest place for him, there was always a question mark over whether we would indeed reach viability.

But here we are, 24 weeks pregnant. 

Somehow and some way we made it!

It's a somewhat bittersweet milestone, because I have been told that it probably doesn't really matter how far I get in this pregnancy, that the outcome will most likely see me leaving the hospital with empy arms and a broken heart.

I choose to look toward the path of hope though, I of course listen to everything the doctors and specialists tell me.. But equeally I don't think anyone really thought we would make it as far as we have, and we here we are!

I feel Nugget moving daily now, usually only when I am lay down, that is when his movements are at their strongest. It’s crazy that I have been feeling him move for a whole month now.

Since last weeks scan and more doom and gloom news, I have picked myself up off the sofa where I have pretty much spent the last month drinking water and hoping that the rest may do some good... and decided to get out and enjoy the beautiful weather with Leo through the means of daily exercise.

We have been walking the dog, merely walking ourselves and even bike riding.

My mum told me to ‘be careful’ and I couldn’t help but ask her ‘why?’ - When you have been told that there is no hope, careful doesn’t really enter the equation. Of course I had full intention of being careful, but you can’t help but ponder the thought as to why. 

It’s been a quiet week, and to be honest it’s these kind of weeks that you can almost lull yourself into a false sense of security and pretend that everything is ok. I have found myself doing it after each and every appointmnet, it's a cycle.

I get delivered the bad news, I come home and mourn a baby who is still very much alive. I feel sorry for myself. I take to Google looking for stories of hope, and then I find a way to build myself back up again, clinging to the smallest chance of hope.

When you have been given bad news and have no appointments on the calander, you have no one telling you that your baby is going to die. You can feel him moving and kicking away inside, you can even see your stomach rise and fall as he does so. You can almost make yourself believe that you WILL be bringing your baby home and that everything is and will be ok. 

I’m almost certain baby boy had hiccups this week, I can’t be certain.... and how can a baby with no fluid actually have hiccups? 

I have to admit that apart from the movements, it’s pretty hard to believe that I am actually pregnant and growing a baby. I think when you are dealt bad news, part of you switches off to protect you, an almost armour shoots up and around you to help you distance yourself from the potential of a broken heart.

I lie there in the evenings (he’s most active around midnight) and I just feel him bop away, both my hand's draped over my growing tummy. I refuse sleep while he is wiggling and jiggling around, it almost feels a crime to miss those little moments when you are never sure how long you will be able to enjoy them for.

I lie there in the morning and refuse to get out of bed until I have felt those familiar movements I have grown so fond of. Once I know he is ok I can start my day with Leo.

I’m in good spirits, I still have hope. My tummy is growing (all be it smaller than the average pregant ladies tummy) so I know baby boy has to be growing too. I know that at the next scan he is still going to be smaller, but he isn’t the first baby in history to experience inuterine growth restriction and he won’t be the last. 

While his heart is beating I refuse to give up hope, I have to keep that hope burning otherwise I am just going to lose my mind.