I have gracefully entered my third trimester. Last week was appointment-laden. Monday: special egg donor recipient therapist. Tuesday: 28w midwife appointment. Wednesday: vascular neurologist at Johns Hopkins. Thursday: 28w growth scan at Maternal and Fetal health. And Friday? I’m trying my best not to fall asleep and/or eat everything I can possibly find (despite that I am stuffed). All four appointments went great.
Our daughter weighs around 2 pounds 8 ounces and is in the 29th percentile for growth. Her head and brain are completely normal, putting to rest my fears of having transmitted Zika virus while in Aruba a couple of months ago. She’s on the smaller side, helping alleviate my fears of childbirth. Her 3D picture is adorable and she’s been practicing breathing according to her live action screening at the high risk doctor. I’m cleared for a birth center birth by just about everybody at this point. The neurologist told me that while my former brain condition can be associated with eclampsia/preeclampsia, it would be unheard of to just have the brain condition again and not the eclampsia (where there would be symptoms in advance of the delivery, one would think). My high risk doctor “graduated” me, which I was very surprised about, so I will not be seeing him anymore. Does this mean I am a regular person now?
I’ve now received a LOT more baby clothes from a friend. I feel as if I could clothe 3 to 5 0-3 month girls. Most of these clothes are pink, which is sad. I was excited to find one little sleeper that was white with little yellow rose buds on it. Apparently, those are out of style at this point. The big thing seems to be a thick kind of jersey onesie, which aren’t soft or sweet, and I find they do not illicit any kind of “awwww” emotion in me. I’ve got a lot of those at this point, mostly hot pink with silly little things written on them. I miss our ‘70s baby wear. With this amount of clothes though, I guess I can be choosy about what we’ll put on our daughter. It offends my “anti-waste” ways, as well as my “there’s somebody in need who can use these” feelings having these clothes and likely not being able to use them all. I guess we will see. I feel like even if the baby got changed four times a day, I still wouldn’t have to do laundry but once or twice a month.
Seeing her little face in 3D brought up some sadness that my genetics were not part of this union. I’m sure most people who are reading are not in this situation, but maybe you have a child that doesn’t look anything like you, or your partner is helping you raise a child that is not genetically related. Or maybe you have a genetic child that isn’t exactly as you thought they should be. I’m sure in the grand scheme of things, recipients of donor egg or sperm probably overrate how great it is to have your genetic child. Anyway, it is just more work to do with my very expensive special therapist. It’s too bad she’s $70/hour after insurance! I was told after a very stressful donor recipient support group meeting (which my therapist runs—that’s how I met her) that if the group had been a reality TV show, I would have been the bright, sunny and hopeful one (and I will tell you why she said this).
My journey to become a parent has been a long one, a confusing one, and I ended up on this donor path feeling like I could have probably produced my own genetic child if I had just kept trying or somehow been followed from conception with the right supplements, hormones, etc. That being said, we chose this option due to our ages, my miscarriage history, and because the risk of not being a parent was too high to continue experimenting with my own eggs. I have wracked my brain as to how things happened, why they happened this way and I have only one conclusion that makes any sense at all: This child was meant to be with us and the only way she made it to me was for each of these events to have unfolded just as they did. As I write this, she is kicking me like crazy, perhaps in agreement.
I am utterly blessed to be where I am today.