I’m going to try and make it short and sweet, as usual.
On my birthday we were delighted to find out at 15 weeks that we were having another boy! We were thrilled to have the three boys close in age & same gender for a lifetime of friendship! I was so sick with “morning sickness”–more than with any of my other pregnancies–and would continue to be sick until 31 weeks this time.
At 17 weeks I started to have some bad cramping. Patrick came home one night from his discipleship group and I was in the fetal position, crying and unable to move because the pain was so sharp. We had an emergency ultrasound and were so thankful to hear that my cervix wasn’t opening yet, but I was told that I needed to rest and that my body was screaming for it. So I wasn’t able to do simple chores like laundry and cooking in the same day because it would cause the painful cramping. The Lord had given me this season for a reason, and my sweet husband reminded me that it wasn’t about me and what I could and couldn’t do, but about being a good steward of the life the Lord had given us. So rest I did, which was hard with 2 kids aged 2 and under. It was a season of learning to let go and finding my true identity in Christ and not what I looked like or felt like or could do for others.
For my 20-week ultrasound I went alone since we already knew the gender. That’s when the tech discovered that he had a “marginal cord,” meaning his umbilical cord was in the wrong spot. It’s supposed to be dead in the center of the placenta for the prime amount of nutrition flow. Ours was on the side and in a vulnerable spot, creating a risk of detachment and possible hemorrhage. Babies who have this condition tend to be on the small side and typically the doctors take the baby early because they do better nutritionally outside the womb then inside, especially towards the end of the pregnancy. So we were told that we would have to have the baby early and would have frequent ultrasounds to monitor his growth and nutrition.
That’s when we started praying fervently that the Lord would watch over our baby and that He would strengthen the cord, because it wouldn’t be able correct itself or move to the right spot on its own. We prayed consistently for a big baby that beat the odds and that the Lord would grow him strong; that it would be a quick delivery so he wouldn’t be in distress long; and that the cord would stay put. Bottom line, I told Patrick one night that all I desired was for us to be able to say “healthy mama and healthy baby” when he comes. We weren’t consumed with worry but were believing and praying.
(The good quality pictures in this post are by Lindsey Medows, all rights reserved.)