23rd January 2017
This week was…interesting.
Less than ideal.
I had a growth scan booked in at Waikato Hospital, so my mum and I made the journey over again to see the wee poppet. Everything was going fine until I noticed the sonographer measuring and remeasuring everything. Multiple times. I actually lost count. I was, however, paying attention to the numbers at the bottom of the screen that calculate the ‘age’.
They weren’t going up as quickly as they should have been. In fact, they were staying pretty steady.
The sonographer noticed that I was tense and told me to relax. I tried. Honestly. I tried.
I was supposed to be bang on thirty-five weeks pregnant when I went to this ultrasound and the scan was measuring a week (sometimes a week and a bit) behind. He has never measured smaller on his scans. He has always been a big boy, and that has something that has been commented on by sonographers in the past.
I guess the small piece of positivity was that everything looked normal despite the fact that he was on the smaller side.
We knew the drill by now and headed out into the waiting room to be seen by the doctor’s again.
They ran through the same ‘Do you know why you’re here?’ questions and made sure I understood everything that I had seen and been told during the ultrasound. I had. Of course. I may look like a fragile little petal
(and high school girl), but you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
To cut a very long story short, we were told that his growth had slowed down and looked to be on a decline. This was something I had figured out by myself, so it wasn’t too much of a shock. It just wasn’t particularly pleasant to hear, especially when a doctor looked concerned.
It’s funny how much things can change.
How quickly they can change.
We were told not to panic, but that I had to come back in another two weeks for a follow-up growth scan.
I left that growth scan feeling deflated, terrified, and downright worried about the little boy who was using my insides as a playground.
More to the point: I was starting to feel like he would be safer out of my body.
I was starting to think that it was ‘time’.
30th January 2017
After a stressful thirty-five week appointment, I relaxed into the week and the following one.
Nothing overly exciting happened. Standard.
That is probably a good thing.
I went to see my midwife and had a blood draw. Just to check all the standard things before labour. It was awful.
To the point of saying that I was going to pass out and they had me lie down. I also got gifted a barf bag. Classy.
I was just glad to get home and have it all over and done with.
If I’m being honest, I spent the whole week counting down until the next growth scan. I can’t focus on anything. At all.