Under 200 days until we're due to meet our little one. Woo-hoo! Two weeks, two days until the end of the first trimester.
The energy level is coming back a little, and the nausea is down to a rare wave here and there. I guess they weren't lying about the second trimester bringing respite from the symptoms. Until the start of the third...
This week, the IPS screening. It's another ultrasound (because pregnant women loooooove them ultrasounds) and a blood test that is screening for Down Syndrome and other chromosomal anomalies. While I'm fairly confident this isn't a big concern, it's another thing I'll feel much better about when it's over.
Before I was actually starting a family, I was absolutely certain that the only way I'd give birth was doped to the gills and pain free. Epidural? Yes, please. I'll take two! I was going to have a team of doctors and nurses and my partner (whom I did not know at this point) was going to be out in the waiting room, pacing and handing our cigars all 1950s-style.
Because I harbour an obsessive thirst for knowledge, after the positive test, I started researching birth statistics. I learned how much more likely I am to need surgical intervention once medication is introduced, and obviously surgery is more risky than natural birth. I could live with that if I were the only one in jeopardy, but I also learned how much higher the risks are to my baby. And I just cannot accept that risk on someone else's behalf.
So now I find myself planning a midwife-assisted natural birth in six months. I haven't even met this kid yet, and I'm already ready to sacrifice everything I can to keep them as safe as I can. God help me, this kid has turned me into some kind of freakish Earth Mother hippie.
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