My Pregnancy After Loss Part 5:
The Third Trimester
The third trimester is really where the rubber hit the road for me. Everything in my pregnancy so far was familiar territory. We had already been here, done that… the announcement, the nesting, the baby clothes, the baby shower, the birth plan, the heart opening. Until the world showed me something different, I was keeping the potential of this baby actually coming home with us at bay. Mentally, I think I needed to get past 31 weeks; the week Vienna died and I delivered her.
I don’t believe it was a conscious thing; my body and mind remembered and it was just trying to keep me safe.
We eventually got to see 31 weeks, and we survived, but more importantly… so did our precious baby. The potential of her coming home to us was becoming very, very real. My body and my mind had finally caught up to my heart, and as a team, we started getting ready 🤍
Let me tell you… as much as the third trimester was intense and very scary for me, our lives were also crazy!
I don’t know about you, but I don’t know too many people who demolish their kitchen approaching the end of their high risk pregnancy. But we did. Just like this pregnancy was familiar territory, unfortunately so was renovating and our lives being absolute chaos. For us, being pregnant also meant starting a new renovation — with our first pregnancy, we bought our original 70’s house with the daydream of slowly making it our own. We tore out the carpeting and the floors, all while I was miscarrying. With Vienna, the demo’ing continued on. We had people in our backyard chopping trees literally down the day after she died. Our floors were installed when I was only a week postpartum from delivering her. With William, we had no bathrooms and no doors. I showered at the gym and used the luxurious porta potty in our driveway. With this little ones pregnancy, this time: we had no kitchen. Even though it might be insane for some, I was a well seasoned pregnant reno’er and therefore, adjusted quite easily. We had a little make shift kitchen in our garage that consisted of a hot plate, a microwave, a kettle and of course… most importantly, my coffee maker. I think the craziest part of it all was that I prepped my postpartum freezer from our garage with this set up. (So, when I say my postpartum freezer prep recipes are easy… please know, they have been tried, tested and true! haha.)
Our lives were on the brink of a big change beyond my pregnancy, too. My husband, Scott, was preparing to leave his job and close the company he had poured so much of himself into. After nearly eight years of dedication—giving his time, energy, and heart—this was no small decision. He was stepping into a new era, hopefully his earth dad era, and… well, we didn’t know exactly what would come next. But with anticipation and excitement, we were ready to figure out what his next steps would be together.
When we entered the third trimester and approached the same gestation when things went awry with Vienna, my monitoring was increased. My doctors reassured me that while they didn’t necessarily think the amount of extra monitoring I wanted was medically required, they fully supported it. They reminded me that frequent check-ins were a good plan if they gave me peace of mind. Most importantly, they let me take the lead—I was in charge of my care plan, and they were there to support whatever I needed. Magic to my ears.
Sometimes, this was both a blessing and a curse. Of course, any care provider who puts you in the driver’s seat is amazing in my books (as they all should), but my anxiety was so high—I wanted as much monitoring as possible. At the same time, my anxiety would spike heading into those very scans. So I was anxious between scans, anxious before scans… the only real relief I felt was when I was actively looking at or monitoring my baby.
I knew I had some work to do with my therapist, but also—this was just how it was. OF COURSE I was going to be anxious, this was my 5th pregnancy. I did what I could to ground myself. I leaned on my supports: my community of loss moms, connecting with my baby, body work, distraction—whatever tools I had, and most of the time, they helped.
At this point, we started doing every other week ultrasounds with something called a Biophysical Profile — where it would measure baby’s movement, their breathing, their tone, their fluids, their heart and how they respond to movement. We also added in another test called a Non-stress test, which is another way to check in to baby’s heart rate and movements, and how they are responding to potential contractions. As we got further, and further into my gestation, these also increased in frequency. By the end of my pregnancy, I was going twice a week. Sometimes, every other day. Essentially, I felt like a lived at the hospital at this point, but I was okay with it.
Every week that passed I told myself, “this is the week I am going to tell people!", “this is the week I’ll announce on social media” … and I would chicken out. A big part of me felt, this is going so well, I am handling the anxiety, I am enjoying my little bubble… do I potentially want to risk interfering with that? Do I want to risk some well-intentioned comment hurting or triggering my already fragile heart? Did I want to feel the added pressure and eyes on me? And worst off… did I want to have to go back to all these people and break their hearts again, if I were to lose this baby, too? I had a strong, loving community built on my social media. People who were really rallying behind me, whose hearts broke with me when Vienna died. Who watched me rise out of the ashes only to break once again when William passed. It just felt like a lot. I didn’t believe in jinxing, I really didn’t, but I really did feel like I wanted to protect my community, and myself.
One night I had a little bit of a meltdown. I looked back on my pregnancy, and I really grieved how lonely it felt. I really grieved that this baby didn’t get the hoorah or celebration she deserved. And that I didn’t get the celebration I deserved. If you don’t already know this part of my story, Vienna died the same week as my baby shower for her, so it was very valid that I had anxieties with celebrating. But something shifted at 34 weeks. When I envisioned a goal, it was always “let’s just get to 34 weeks.” No idea why — but it’s the number I had in my head. When we did get there, as surprising and overwhelming as it was, we definitely celebrated. I bought a cake, we took some beautiful videos on the beach — and I finally announced to the world: I AM PREGNANT!
To be continued….
my breech baby
planning my birth
my maternity shoot
and; did we finish our kitchen in time? (lol)
PART 2:
After announcing is when the whirlwind happened. I had shared so much of my joy and pain and grief over the years with those who followed my journey, and I knew people were invested. They really celebrated for us. Like, really celebrated. I woke up the next day to flowers at my house and food delivered to my door — and not from IRL friends, from moms I had connected with online. It was so touching, and quite honestly — shocking lol. It felt really good, and truthfully it made me question if I made the right decision to keep it private for so long.
But then, the other foot dropped. After the celebration, came the fear. Everyone knew now. There was no going back. I somehow had to make it through the next 3 weeks with an alive baby. I was so close, but it felt like an eternity away. From now until baby’s birth day, I was having a weekly ultrasound and 2 NSTs a week.
I stayed very open about my birth preferences. As a doula, and as a mom who had already had an unmedicated vaginal birth, a vaginal birth is was what I ideally wanted. But life had other plans, and so did our baby! She had been breech for weeks and I had tried everything to flip her. I was seeing a chiro 2x/week, laying on an ironing board every night, doing spinning babies 3x a day, walking, watching how I sat, having baths, using frozen peas… literally everything. Baby girl did not want to move (and now that she’s here — this makes a lot of sense). Waiting to see if she was going to move or not was a total act of surrender — I knew I wasn’t in control here. I could do what I can and I’d have to let the rest go; priority #1 was getting her here alive. I had made two birth preferences— one for a vaginal birth and another if we needed to have a cesarean. When we hit 36 weeks, and she still hadn’t turned, I went fully in with my plans for a cesarean.
We did contemplate having an ECV and manually turning her head down, in hopes to have a vaginal birth, but for me... we had gotten this far, I didn’t feel comfortable taking the risk, especially since it wasn’t guaranteed to work and she was VERY stuck up in my ribs. So, we opted against it.
I had to grieve, and it may seem silly for some, but I knew a cesarean came with risks of its own. I knew it meant a different looking postpartum. I knew it meant my body would take a lot more work to recover and it would be bad for my back. I knew I would have to fight a LOT harder for some of my birth wishes.
But fought we did! It was no surprise that many of the things I wanted for my birth were met with pushback. “We don’t do that” — “I don’t think that’s allowed” — “No, absolutely not".”
Now, if you are having a cesarean and there are some things that are really important to you — the first step to advocating, after discussing with your OB, is to meet with 2 people: 1) Manager of Labour and Delivery and 2) Anesthesiologist. And no, you aren’t being confrontational or “extra”, this is your birth. The most important day of yours and your baby’s life; it is your right to talk to whoever you want.
We met with the manager and we met with a social worker. The social worker was, to be honest, pretty rude and made me feel uncomfortable. No surprise or nothing new to me. The manager, however, was lovely — she asked for a copy of my birth preferences, and she went over every option with me. She met with the anesthesiologist for us and confirmed these things were possible. She followed up and kept in touch with us by phone and email. She was amazing.
Here are the things we wanted.
we wanted first section of the day. With my anxiety, I did not want to be delayed. I needed to know when this baby was coming
I wanted to talk to everyone who would be attending my surgery beforehand - everyone came and introduced themselves to me
I wanted Scott to be by my side at all times. Typically, your partner isn’t allowed in the OR until baby is about to be born and you’ve been prepped. I fought hard for this one.
I wanted to play my music. No problem.
I wanted my arms free during surgery.
I wanted the drape to be lowered when my daughter was born.
I wanted delayed cord clamping for a min of 2 minutes
I wanted my daughter not to be rubbed off - leaving as much vernix as possible
I did not want her to be swaddled
I wanted her immediately placed on me for skin to skin (they did her APGAR score first and then passed her off)
I wanted a nurse to take videos and photos (she did— and she was WONDERFUL)
I wanted a midwife to support (we have a midwife clinic in our hospital) immediate skin to skin
I wanted my doula to be waiting for us in recovery (typically, doulas are not allowed in OR or recovery — we were given permission to have our doula in the OR, but I decided since the midwife would also be present, she would be best to be with Scott and the baby in recovery if I was taking a while.)
I wanted Scott to do skin to skin immediately in recovery
I did not want erythromycin eye ointment
I wanted vitamin K to only be administered while baby was on me
I wanted any newborn assessments to be done while doing skin to skin
I did not want formula — I brought colostrum and kept it in the postpartum freezer if we needed it
I wanted early discharge if everything was going well
Oh gosh, I hope I have everything here. We wanted a lot. And we had a ton of pushback — but honey gets more bees than vinegar. You’d be surprised how far you can get with the right conversations with the right people. The one big thing they were very “NO” about is that I requested for no tarp and for Sena to be givent o me right away. They said they simply “did not have the equipment for this.”
At 36 weeks, while waiting for baby to come, I finally had my maternity shoot. I couldn’t believe I had gotten here. My photographer, Nicole, had also done my photoshoot with Vienna. It really felt like a full circle moment. It was a really fun night and we got the most beautiful photos. I will never forget it. I love you, Nicole!
My bags were packed. Our to do lists were triple checked. Our kitchen??? Not so quite done, but in the final hours, literally THE DAY before my baby was born, our cabinets were installed and our countertops were in. I could not believe it. It really seemed like the universe was saying, “hey, this really is all going to work out.”
24 hours before surgery, I stopped my baby aspirin and blood thinner injections.
I had been quiet for a few days. Usually, when I am stressed, the first thing I do is recluse. I get quiet. Very in my mind. I stayed busy nesting, packing, making sure everything was great and it worked. Then, I went to bed.. and I had my second panic attack. I could not breathe. I was convinced my baby was not going to make it. I knew it wasn’t healthy for me to stay like this, the way I was feeling, so we loaded into the car and drove to the hospital. I called and let them know we were coming, they knew me by this point, and they were ready for me. I came in and was given an NST and of course, my baby passed with flying colours. This was at midnight, and we needed to be back at 5am lol. They told us to come at 6:30 and sent us home. I fell asleep, shockingly, and woke up the next day — my baby’s birthday.
