And Today Shall Be Dubbed “Jon Bon Jovi Day”!

by Jen on November 11, 2012

Whoaaaaaaaaaaaa, we’re half way theeeeeere!
Livin’ on a prayer!!!!!!!

You are welcome.  You will be singing that most of the day, I predict. And that’s good!  Know why? Because today has been dubbed “Jon Bon Jovi Day”! By who, you ask? (Or is it “whom”?  That’s such a tricky one.)

Great question.

‘Tis my Henry. He named it. I swear.

You see, today I am 20 weeks pregnant!!!  Heyllllllloooooo milestone!

Twenty weeks means we are half way there! Henry is half cooked! And I’m really getting the hang of this pregnancy business!

My pregnancy has been emotionally complicated- low hCG numbers from the start, bleeding like stuck pig, some mild bed resting, blood work indicating possible neural tube defects, more blood work ruling out neural tube problems but indicating possible liver damage for me, an amnio to clarify, more mild bed rest, scares of amniotic fluid loss, Hurricane Sandy elongates the wait time for the amnio results, amnio results seem to clear the baby, and now waiting for more blood work to come back to clear me.  But aside from that, this pregnancy has been physically simple.  Maybe they all are until this point, but it’s surprised me.

Friday I taught a five hour class at work.  I was on my feet most of the time.  Then after that, George and I went to Town Hall for part of the NYC Comedy Festival.  I kicked my shoes off underneath my seat while we watched Gabe Liedman and Patton Oswalt perform.  By the end of the show, I could barely fit my feet into my shoes.  BARELY.  It hurt so bad.  So bad I couldn’t imagine taking the subway home, so we cabbed it instead.  Once inside our building, I took my shoes off and walked the four flights of stairs in sweaty trouser socks. When we reached our apartment, I ripped my socks off to examine my burning feet.  I was SWOL-LEN.  Each of my toes resembled Vienna Sausages.  Guh-ross.  I poked at my feet and watched fluid swish around.  So nasty.  But I suppose this might be a glimpse into the glamor of what the second half of pregnancy might bring.  Ooh la la.

The worst part of this is that I’d JUST purchased a new pair of shoes one whole size larger than my pre-pregnancy shoe size because I was noticing my 7 1/2’s were getting a bit snug.  And now, my feet were trying to Incredible Hulk their way out of these new shoes!  I can’t afford new shoes every week, so I hope this “problem” isn’t constant.

Enough complaining.

I had a liver scan last week.  To recap, the results of my amniocentesis showed that Henry is most likely NOT the cause of the elevated AFP results I received in two rounds of blood work.  To rule out myself as the problem, I gave a gob of blood and had a liver scan.  The doctor performing my scan was confident my liver looked perfectly healthy!  I don’t have the results of the blood work back, but every day I’m more and more positive the elevated AFP was a fluke result caused by the blood that had mixed in Henry’s amniotic fluid from early in my pregnancy.

I should know for sure this week.  The silver lining to all of this stress has been that I have been able to confirm three invaluable things:

1. We have one of the most “perfect for me” high-risk obstetricians in the world.  He’s worked his ass off for us and has proven time and time again that he’s proactive and genuinely interested in a healthy and positive outcome for our entire family.

2.  George is a mountain.  Screw a rock.  He’s a big, steady, strong, magnificent mountain.  He’s seen pretty horrific things since the start of our fertility journey, especially when we miscarried.  He’s run across New York City from his office  a thousand times to be there for the bleeding scares that landed me in the ER.  He’s held inserted trans vaginal ultrasound wands while the doctors have corroborated over doctory things, he’s held my hand while I’ve received good and bad news, he’s supported decisions I’ve made that affect us both, he’s taken on the daily duties of our life for weeks and weeks at a time while I’ve been bed resting or just too nervous to move about, and never- not for one teensy tiny millisecond has he ever faltered.  Never.

And 3.  Our little boy is worth it.  These scares affirm our love and commitment to him.  And George and I both realize, there is nothing too great or too complicated to endure.

It’s all very overwhelming, but in the very best way.

So I sit here, as I often do, and type by the open window of our living room overlooking an autumn leaf-littered 73rd Street.  It’s a quiet Sunday morning.  The city that never sleeps, actually does.  It just usually happens on Sunday mornings.  George is still asleep.  My dachshunds rest in my lap and my laptop rests on them.  My Henry is awake, but still sleepy as his movements are soft and tender this early in the day.  All of this… all of this feels incredible.  I thank the universe for this life, and I thank Jon Bon Jovi for providing the soundtrack to this morning I will remember forever.

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{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Alison November 11, 2012 at 9:33 am

Halfway is huge. HUGE.
And so are feet. I had fat feet for months.
Small price to pay for carrying a healthy, happy baby though.
So glad everything is okay!


2 Andrea November 11, 2012 at 12:32 pm

And this sentence has me near bawling: George is a mountain. Screw a rock. He’s a big, steady, strong, magnificent mountain.

I love George. Is that possible? We've never met, G, but I adore you anyway.

I feel like I need to see you before Baby B gets here. For Realz. I'm not sure how, but my mind is working on it as a critical necessity.

And Jon Bon Jovi Day rocks on!!!


3 Lynne November 11, 2012 at 7:45 pm

I have an awesome family! Love you three.


4 Kimberly November 12, 2012 at 6:46 am

You had me at Bon Jovi.
I am thinking about leather pants.
Did it just get awkward up in here?
I love you and I love that you're 20 weeks.


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