Pregnancy Milestones

I am officially twenty-three weeks as of yesterday. This means that three weeks ago I crossed the halfway mark and could officially begin to count down.

While my husband has tried to be as supportive as he can be, I have essentially been alone for over two-thirds of my pregnancy due to the fact that his work flies him out of town for two weeks at a time and sends him home for one quick week before he’s off again. However, now that it’s the Christmas season they’ve given him three weeks off. The bonus of this is that it seems as if this is where the milestones have really began to pick up. For instance, my ultrasound was booked for the day after his return.

My husband had been home for the dating ultrasound. The timing proved to be crucial as both of us were able to see that our baby really did exist - as the only evidence was my 24/7 nausea and constant vomiting. This was a profound moment for him and I. It was a time where both of us could tangibly grasp the reality that our life was changing. It was a moment that deepened our connection. Therefore, both of us were equally excited for this upcoming ultrasound where we’d be able to witness the rapid growth that had occurred in the last twelve weeks: a fat little body with short limbs that measured just over an inch and barely resembled a human being to now being over a foot long with clearly defined features such as its eyes, nose and mouth. Imagine our disappointment when after waiting with such anticipation the technician told my husband he was to remain in the waiting room until she called for him. Once again I was alone.

I lay out on the narrow examining table while the technician squeezed jelly onto my abdomen and focused all her attention on the screen. I looked over expecting to watch and somehow bond with my baby like I had the first time. The only view I had was the screen’s black backside. I closed my eyes and hoped that all was well.

Finally after a half hour I was told I could clean up, go to the bathroom and retrieve my husband for our viewing of the baby. The viewing took about one rapid minute in which we were quickly told this is the head, the arm, the heartbeat, and the bum. I barely had time to focus on the different pictures - let alone make out what I was seeing. The only image that concretely stands out was a single image of my baby’s skeletal arm. Then the appointment was over and we left bewildered with my husband wondering why he even bothered to come along.

Although the experience is slightly bitter it did teach me to stand up for what I want. If there happens to be a next time I will be insisting that my husband accompany me into the room – I’ve had enough of being alone. In addition, moving forward with this pregnancy the experience has taught me that when something is important to me I need to speak up and use my voice. In all honesty, I’m glad I experienced this early on so that when it comes to more pressing matters, such as when I go into labour, I’ll have the determination it takes to be heard.

On a positive note, a few days later our baby’s movement became strong enough to be felt by others. While I have been feeling my baby doing fish like flip-flops (or quick bloop-bloops as I like to describe the sensation) ever since I was sixteen weeks, my hand still had yet to feel it while resting on my protruding belly. The first time my hand felt the baby was during David Bazan’s concert – the highlight of my night. It seemed perfect: a night out on the town with my husband, listening to good music, the vibe and energy was positive, and then with a soft boof I felt it. In the middle of all the people surrounded by music, my baby and I shared a private moment.

The following evening my husband also felt our baby for the first time. We were curled up on the couch watching a movie, my hand rested on the underside of my belly when I started feeling the baby’s movements. I reached over and took my husband’s hand and replaced mine with his. I wondered if the baby could feel the difference in weight, pressure and even warmth and if it would cause it to become still from shyness or stage fright. For a moment the activity ceased, but within minutes it started up. The look of awe as it spread over my husband’s face as he felt our baby’s motion for that first time is one that I hope remains ingrained in my memory. It was just one tiny moment; yet, it was one that further connected us.

I have come to relish the small moments, but the big ones are an excuse to celebrate. For us one such moment was a perfect opportunity to throw a sex party.

“It’s not what you think,” my husband would reassure after leaving an awkward moment of silence. “It’s a gender reveal. We’re having cake that once you cut into it, it’s either pink for a girl or blue for a boy.”

Our party was just a family affair, but it was an exciting moment to share. As my husband’s family lives out East he had a live feed through his phone so they could participate as well. I was a little concerned that I would open up the cake box and that the colour of the cake would be exposed through certain spots, so I gave it to my brother-in-law and asked him to check it out and creatively fix it if needed. As it turned out there were a few spots, particularly on top, so thankfully my brother-in-law covered it with a floral arrangement made from mandarin orange slices.

I really didn’t care, nor did I have a strong idea one-way or the other, if it was a girl or a boy. If it was a girl I knew that we’d be set as my sister’s seven-week-old baby was a little girl and a bunch of friends had just had girls as well. Plus I thought it would be nice if my baby was a girl so that she’d have a cousin the same gender and close to the same age. Yet, I knew it would be fun to have a boy as well. Plus, three of my husband’s good friends had boys and I knew it would be nice for my husband as well. However, while I didn’t have a feeling, I did have a theory.

To be honest I never used prescribed birth control. Personally, I wasn’t interested in introducing my body to extra hormones – particularly since I already knew that medically I had a hormone imbalance. So, I chose to use the scientific natural birth control called the Fertility Awareness Method (FAM). I had been introduced to this method through a book called Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler that a group of midwives recommended and lent to clients who were looking for a natural method of birth control either for religious or personal reasons. The book is highly informative and gave me a lot of insights to the workings of my body that neither doctors nor naturopaths could really help me with. For two and half years this had been my form of birth control. One aspect of being this in tune with my body was that I was able to tell within a twenty-four hour period when I was ovulating.

Toni Weschler also gives certain methods to try out if attempting to get pregnant with a specific gender. Although my husband and I were no longer avoiding pregnancy – we definitely weren’t trying either. In addition, with his work schedule being the way that it was, I was never fertile while he was home; so, pregnancy (let alone gender) really wasn’t an issue. However, in order to get pregnant, all it took was for his work schedule to be delayed by an extra three to four days. Like I said, we weren’t actively trying to get pregnant but neither were we avoiding it. Four days after he left for work I ovulated. As the theory goes y-sperm are quick swimmers and even though x-sperm are slower, they are hardier and live longer. So, according to this if you want a boy it’s best to have sex as close to ovulation as possible and if you want to try for a girl (while it may be harder to time and therefore take a little longer to accomplish) it’s best to have sex approximately five to three days before ovulation. So, while I had neither a preference nor any true feelings, my suspicion was that we were having a girl.

The moment I cut into the cake and pulled out the knife the gap glowed pink. 

The cake glows pink: it's a girl!

Once I made the second cut and pulled out the slice for all to see, the room exploded in excitement and congratulations: we are having a girl. My sister was ecstatic,

“I was hoping you were having a girl! I have a box full of stuff for you right now.” Then turning to her daughter cradled in the jungle baby swing she expressed, “Emma, you’re going to have a girl cousin to play with.”

For some reason we had a boy name picked out, but still had not agreed on a girl’s name. Finally Luke got right on it and started looking up girl’s names. We still have not chosen one, but it’s nice to know what we can focus on. To be honest, if I had had the perfect pregnancy I would’ve waited until our baby made her entrance into the world to have her gender revealed. However, for eighteen plus weeks I was so nauseas and puked more than a couple times a day that rather than being excited I was slightly resentful, bitter, and actually quite depressed about this drastic change plaguing my body. Consequently, filled with all these negative emotions, I felt no bonding with my baby. I hoped that discovering the gender would be something to look forward to, something concrete to cling to, and a way to specifically connect. I’m pleased to say that although we don’t have a specific name chosen, it is really nice to call her my baby girl.

My belly at 23 weeks

To look at you're baby's fetal development check out the following site:
http://www.babycenter.com/fetal-development-images-23-weeks