36 weeks, 4 days pregnant: when shit got real.

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Today I had an appointment with a new doctor. It’s a long story but my local hospital refused to let me deliver there, mostly because I have had gestational diabetes and the moment they hear the word, ‘insulin’ (apparently no matter how small the dosage), you’re outta there!

So, Mr Unprepared and I made the trek to the city to see what was up and to get myself scheduled into a better equipped hospital that specialises in high risk pregnancies/births for a C-section. You might be asking how I could get that far without having a date (or place) locked in for my procedure, but you wouldn’t be the only one! Moving right along, though…

Anyhow, my first impression of this doctor was great. I found this really reassuring, having had to change tack so late in the game! She asked a lot of great contextual questions about my history with both pregnancies and the birth of the Little Mister. I could tell she was really taking in everything and building a bigger picture for herself, so she could assist me best with the Little Miss. She had information from my local doctor, as part of my referral, but I liked that she wanted to hear it from me too.

We were talking about booking me in for my C-section for 38 weeks + 3 days. She gave me some stuff I’d need – information about how I’d need an appointment with an anaesthetist, some CTG monitoring and how to prep for surgery (fasting/taking a half dose of my usual insulin the night before etc).

Then she gave me an ultrasound. The baby was moving and the heartbeat sounded good, but this time around her belly was measuring small. The last scans I’d had (the week before) she’d been in proportion all over but her growth had slowed down (probably due to my control of my diabetes with a strict diet and a small dose of insulin nightly). I’d had a nagging feeling that it wasn’t really normal for a ‘diabetes’ baby to be a bit smaller and for her growth rate to be decreasing. The doctor confirmed this, saying that it was the fact that despite the diabetes, our little girl was measuring smaller, which gave off a red flag for her. She amended her previous idea of delivering me in my 38th week of pregnancy and said, “How’s next Tuesday?”

It was Wednesday…Mr Unprepared and I looked at each other like stunned mullets! Of course we gave a resoundingly strong, “Whatever is best for the baby – we’re absolutely on board.”

The doctor explained that with IVF pregnancies, sometimes the placenta isn’t as awesome towards the end of term. There was a chance that my placenta wasn’t really being as efficient as it should be and might be on the decline. She didn’t want to scare me, but having a C-section a week earlier than originally planned would help to reduce a lot of risks associated with this.

She also threw in there that if I was truly done having children, they could remove my tubes during the procedure so I could avoid any accidental pregnancies forever (I’d still have the ability to use any of our leftover embryos with IVF if I changed my mind but wow)!!! How efficient! We decided against that for now – it just seemed a bit too much to take in! I think I might just stick to the pill when I’m ready!!!

I started counting the days down in my head and with less than a week to go, I felt quite shocked and overwhelmed! While I had been so excited to meet my baby (and also selfishly find some relief from all of my pregnancy related ailments), it’s still major abdominal surgery with risks and I don’t have the best track record for things going smoothly during birth! I didn’t know how to feel! Which was funny, as the Little Mister had decided to come into this world at about the same stage of pregnancy and I’d just embraced it (even despite things not going so well at first). Also, I think it was reassuring because he was actually bigger (3.6kg at birth). I think maybe the element of surprise was missing this time around and I had too much of an ability to overthink things (my specialty)!

Mr Unprepared needed to scramble to lock in his leave dates from work and I think we were both in shock to realise that the day after our appointment would be his last day of work (as he was needed to assist with some of my appointments)!! Trust me, a week during the later stages of pregnancy is like a month in normal time!! Seriously – what a difference 7 days can make!

We told all of our parents the news and everyone seemed excited and glad we had some answers. I got home and frantically added a whole lot of stuff to my calendar, terrified I’d forget something!

This was really happening. I was relieved to have a plan, but absolutely shitting myself!

To be continued…

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