Day Three: Seven Simple/True Things About Me

Day One. Day Two.

Day Three: I’m not really good at pregnancy.

This post is late in the day. Why? I went in for my 33 week prenatal checkup. And got shipped over to Labor & Delivery. I’ve got protein in my urine, elevated blood pressure and some significant swelling (that isn’t heat induced at this point). Also, I was contracting! JOY! So, I got a shot of terbutaline, lots of blood work, a mini-catheter, an ultrasound on the baby (5lbs, 8oz with a head measuring almost three weeks ahead of schedule), an ultrasound on my cervix and a few hours of monitoring. Joy, fun, eh? Contractions were stopped with ease, thankfully. But me? I’m on Level 2 bedrest. (With a two year old. Mmhmm, right.)

This is the longest I’ve gone without bedrest, actually. With BigBrother, it happened at 32 weeks. (I’m 33w5d today.) With Munchkin? 18 weeks. I’m kind of proud to have made it this far but still bummed. (Also glad that we bought the laptop this week.)

And how does all of this relate to adoption?

I’m really kind of beefed with the agency (and other agencies that tell other expectant mothers considering placement the same thing). It was always said, “You can have more kids.” Yeah, okay, I’m “having” more kids. But I’ve had one miscarriage. And two, now, very complicated pregnancies. My own health has been put at risk. In fact, my child-bearing years are thus dictated by my health risks. After this kid, we’re done. It’s greatly assumed that birth mothers are young, fertile and strong and can go on to have umpteen babies. I’m mad that they didn’t say, “Hey, with the complications that you’re having with this kid (Munchkin) should you maybe get a second opinion about how future pregnancies will go before making decisions about children?”

But not REALLY mad. In fact, the only time that it bothers me is when I’m laid up in the hospital, unsure of my health, my child’s health and the future. Otherwise, I just don’t think about it much. “What’s done is done.” But with that, I tell all mothers considering placement, “Don’t bank on being healthy, strong enough or able to have more children. You just. never. know.”

Now I need to drink some water, watch some lame Friday night TV and thank my Lord that He has given us more time to bake this child. Who, seen via ultrasound today, is just as darn cute as his older siblings. (I also have a great hospital-adoption-talk story to share. Really. It’s positive! But I’ve got to rest.)