Four of A Kind?

Everyone who reads my blog follows me on Instagram where this picture announced that we are adding another pumpkin to our patch! And yes, by pumpkin I mean baby and by baby I mean just one despite the 5 mini pumpkins and by baby I mean boy. Just to clear up any confusion. 

I'm currently on the verge of my 16th week of pregnancy. I got an ultrasound week 12 that revealed a very suspicious (thanks to a Google search, I now know the proper term) nub. Should your curiosity get the best of you, Google "nub theory" and you will get a slew of gender prediction theories you never needed to know. I'll spare you the details, but my 12 week ultrasound picture very clearly showed a nub that very clearly and without any doubt whatsoever was a boy nub. 

I mean, did we really doubt it would be another boy? I think there are certain things people have come to expect from my family and boys is one of those things. 

I mean, statistically speaking and nub theory speaking, I was fairly confident we were on our way to four of a kind. Then chaos struck which led to my suspicions being prematurely confirmed, but let's back up to the beginning. 

This pregnancy has been terrible. I spent the entire first trimester laying on the couch. If I did anything substantial (think fold laundry), it took me an hour to recover. I spent the afternoons napping. I spent the evenings grumbling in bed about wanting to throw up (never actually did though). It was the sickest I have been with a pregnancy. Wiped me out bad. 

Warning...this is about to get TMI real quick. This is your warning. Turn back now if you wish to remain unscathed by my body's ability to turn against me. 

I gave you the warning. This is your last chance. 

Here we go. So week 12 came and I was suddenly starting to feel totally normal! I was headed into the second trimester, nausea vanished practically overnight, I had ENERGY again! I took the kids on a walk with a spring in my step. I washed every dirty piece of laundry in the house that had been neglected through the previous 3 months. I COOKED DINNER!

Okay, seriously. This is it. I'm about to turn on you. You'll never look at me the same way again. Things are about to get real up in here. 

You had your chance.

I went to the doctor for a regular check up. Checked on the baby. Everything was peachy. Looking great. Awesome. The next day -- THE DAY BEFORE JEFF IS SCHEDULED TO LEAVE FOR CANADA FOR A WEEK -- I started spotting. 

Okay, I know you can spot during pregnancy. I know it can be normal. But I've had 3 other pregnancies without ever having spotting, so it major freaked me out. I called the doctor's office, "Hi. I'm 12 weeks and I've had some spotting."

Them: "Are you filling up 2 pads in 1 hour?"

Me: "Ummm. No." Thinking that seems like an absurdly large amount of blood to be losing at one time.

Them: "You're fine."

Cool. Cool. I'm good. I'll make it through. We're okay. Spotting continues but lightens up. I'm feeling confident. Then it picks up again. It's getting closer to evening time. Closer to the doctor's office closing. Closer to Jeff LEAVING THE COUNTRY!

I had visions of me having my first miscarriage while Jeff was gone. I of course read the horror stories of women who lose babies past the 12 week "safe zone" and it's like a real baby by then! My head filled with nightmares convincing me disaster was about to strike and I would be left to deal with it on my own (Little did I know I would be right, but the disaster would strike Eli and not me). It was terrible. 

And ever since having Lincoln early, I just don't completely trust my body to do the things it's supposed to with a baby! I began convincing myself my body was in preterm labor at 12 weeks and was trying to evacuate a perfectly healthy baby. Like seriously, it was terrible. I was completely convinced I was losing the baby. There didn't seem to be any other explanation. 

By 3:30, I packed up and decided I just had to take myself down to the doctor to make sure everything was okay. I marched through the door with a facade of confidence and demanded (the best I could) to be seen by the doctor. 

I was sure I had called into a calling center of sorts earlier and just knew once I was in the office they would approach me with more concern. I explained my situation. The receptionist I was talking to immediately questioned, "Didn't I talk to you on the phone a little while ago?"

Dang it. I lost my confidence and sheepishly said yes. I tried to solidify my case by interjecting, "My husband is going OUT OF THE COUNTRY TOMORROW!" Out of the country sounded more dramatic than Canada, so I went with that. Plus pregnancy hormones. I can blame them, right? 

I heard whisperings in the back and then they said fine they would see me. And then basically everything was fine! Got an ultrasound. Baby looked awesome. Couldn't see any source of bleeding. I was a medical mystery of sorts, but since everything appeared to be fine, I was sent on my way and told to take it easy until the bleeding stopped. 

Because nothing says "take it easy" like your husband leaving for a week *and an unknown looming trip to the ER.* But I was optimistic at this point. 

Jeff leaves. We make it through all the adventures of Eli's chin. The bleeding had vanished. Monday morning, we are finally feeling ready to handle the rest of the week with hints of normalcy returning when the bleeding made a comeback. This time with a bit more vengeance and I'll leave it at that.

Luckily my sister who had of course also been out of town had returned the night before. I notified her of the issue at hand and she immediately put me on bed rest and swiped my kids for the day so I could really take it easy. 

I had an appointment the next day. Still no sign of the source of the bleeding. Baby still looked awesome. I was put on "modified bed rest" which included safe activities like light dusting and putting something in the microwave. I laughed out loud as I realized my situation at the time would require a bit more than some light dusting and occasional trips to the microwave. 

I was referred to see a high risk ultrasound tech to help determine what was going on, and they were able to fit me in a couple days later. We discovered I have marginal placenta previa, which means my placenta is currently barely on my cervix, and bleeding is a common symptom of placenta previa. Placenta previa can be scary if the placenta is totally covering the cervix, but mine is expected to "migrate" away from the cervix as my belly grows and should basically resolve itself before it's time to deliver. 

I was 14 weeks when I got the "high risk scan."  She did a quick scan over the gender area... as she asked me if I wanted to know what we were having. As I was trying to explain I should probably wait until Jeff was in town to find out, we both very clearly got a shot that was hard to dispute as anything but boy parts. She confirmed our nub theory suspicions and said with 99% certainty it is a boy. But we already knew that. 

I have made it through 2 weeks of "bed rest." The bleeding has completely stopped and I'm feeling a lot better...other than not exercising has really amped up the speed of the belly growth. I feel like I already look like how I looked at 35 weeks with Lincoln. This picture was taken before the incidents, at about 11-12 weeks and is sadly the only belly shot I have taken *gasp!* 

I'm starting to gain confidence that this pregnancy might be normal again. I'm in the second trimester high and feeling great. I swear I can feel the baby move every once in a while. The kids are super cute and excited about the baby. 

When we told them, Carson and Lincoln stared at us for a minute unamused and then ran off, as expected, but Eli sat and chatted with me and Jeff about it for a while. Jeff said something like, "You're going to have to be a good big brother and help mom and the baby out." To which Eli said, "I'll get my supplies." and started running for the garage. 

"Wait, Eli. The baby isn't going to be here for a while." We explained as we tried to lure him back over. He sat back down. Then I couldn't shake the burning question of what "supplies" he was preparing to round up, scissors? Band-aids? Rope? The word supplies sounded so surgical, that I was expecting any of those items to be mentioned when I finally asked him what he meant. 

"I know where all the baby stuff is!" He had spent the week rummaging through all of our storage in the garage and basement and knew exactly where to find everything. He then explained he'd organize everything and "give us a tour" so we would know where to find it. 

Carson's been a little slower to understand the concept of a new baby. Every time I have an appointment, I tell Carson, "We have to go to the doctor to check on the baby." Then he always clarifies, "In your belly?!?" Like he just can't come to terms with the fact that there's a little person growing in there. It's even hard for me to believe!

We are so excited for baby 4. Four seems like a lot of kids. Like a mini van lot of kids. I am nervous to have a 2-year-old and a baby again because we had a really rough time when we did that the first time, but I love how close Eli and Carson are and I wanted a little buddy for Lincoln, so I'm hoping their lifelong friendship will be worth my sanity the first year...or two. 

Anyway. There's a blast of info you probably wish you never knew.