An update (or, rather, two)

1. A friend emailed recently, asking how things are going and what the latest with the new babe is. Kind of made me realize that this pregnancy really is flying by. I feel like we just shared our news, but the calendar tells me that I'm 18 weeks pregnant-- not 7 like I was then-- and the kicks and flutters of new life reinforce that regularly.

We have taken the initial steps in putting a plan together for maternity care-- the rest will be determined at the end of the year/beginning of the next:

I saw the local OB/GYN who delivered Claire when I was 14 weeks along, following routine blood work (anemia: check) and an ultrasound for dating purposes (only 1 day discrepancy at 12 weeks is pretty accurate, so no change in due date there-- though I always welcome the opportunity to push the due date back). All was normal at that visit, including the baby's heart rate of 151bpm.

We set up an appointment with Dr. Smith (one of Aubrey's cardiologists) for a fetal echocardiogram (required each pregnancy for me since Aubrey) on November 21st. I will be 22 weeks along then.

I've decided to take advantage of an already-planned trip to Syracuse to meet with the MFM there that day so that I can warn them of my potential desire to deliver with them. I'm still not sure whether I will want to go to Syracuse or Burlington for the delivery, but I figure meeting a doctor or two may help me sort that out and since I'll be in the area anyway, I might as well.

My local doctor is very ready-- dare I say eager?!-- to help me arrange an out-of-the-area delivery. I know that he is genuinely convinced the local hospitals here are simply not equipped for VBACs. I'm not a medical professional so I can't fully comment on that, but at least he's being super helpful. My next appointment with him is December 21st.

Yes, you read that right and, yes, that means I will have gone 12 weeks between my first and second regular OB appointments. I asked for a more laid-back schedule and I got it!

2. In other health news (but not completely unrelated, since Aubrey's little heart is exactly how we wound up dealing with things like VBACs and high-risk pregnancies in the first place!), we received a letter from Aubrey's cardiologists letting us know that they and the pediatric cardiology surgeon in Rochester, NY discussed Aubrey in their most recent monthly conference, just as Dr. Byrum told me at the latest appointment that they would. I don't completely understand all the jargon or how to better explain it, so I'll just quote part of the latest update:

The principle question that we focused on was whether Aubrey would be able to be repaired leaving four heart chambers or whether it would be in her better interest to go toward what is called a single ventricle pathway of surgery. It would appear that an attempt to do a surgery to leave her with four heart chambers would be highly complicated and potentially fraught on both short and long term with difficulties including the need for reoperations.

...We discussed possibly a catheterization for her as an outpatient in the spring of 2012 and discuss the possibility of surgery for her in the summer of 2012; but, it could just as easily wait another whole year.

I could tell you that my heart seizes a bit when reading words like "highly complicated" and "fraught on both short and long term" in anything having to do with my beautiful little girl, but really, I just need to say that I am so thankful for the words "it could just as easily wait another whole year."

The truth is that we don't know exactly what lies ahead for Aubrey. Even her cardiologists aren't certain.

But she's okay right now.

And we serve a good and faithful and powerful God.

Which leaves us time to pray, to seek counsel, to look for second opinions (and third, if Daniel chooses to humor my paranoia!), and to continue learning how to trust and treasure this moment as the tremendous gift that it is.

 

limitations

I'm bundled in blankets, pillow under head and computer on lap, piles of tissues all around me and surrounding the half-empty cup of tea on the nearby table. It is that time of year, after all, when we put in more hours indoors and less out in the germ-killing sun, and the sniffles and aches start to beset.

I was not pleased with this scenario an hour ago as I sadly came to terms with a change of plans for the evening (namely, staying under the covers while the rest of my dearly loved homeschooling mothers community gathers together for fellowship and encouragement), but then my husband returned home and he lit the candles around me and said, "I'll take care of dinner," and brought me a fresh box of kleenex and called the little girls off (they think I am a jungle-gym whenever I am in a semi-reclined or reclined position) and I'm pretty sure some of the sniffling was because of tears: I am a lucky girl and sometimes it takes just this sort of scenario for me to see it.

The truth is that it is that time of year and there are limitations that come with it, but I think to myself that just like the girls who come to my house each Sunday evening and I talked about last night, sometimes the limitations really are a gift.

As the days grow shorter and the temperatures colder, we are more and more confined to our homes. This can be tiresome at times, but really, I think it is a gift if I will stop moping long enough to see it. Our rhythms slow down just a bit. We think harder about outside-the-house activities, since they mean interrupted schooling and zipping multiple jackets and blowing on cold hands around icy steering wheels and being busy when it is dark (and we all know deep down, I think, that dark is meant for home fires and home cooking and home smells and home serenity). Candles and warm applesauce and wool afghans replace late-night stops at the ice cream shop and play dates at the park and sweat from gardening. I have grown to love both extremes, and I would be remiss to ignore the limitations of each as gifts.

Even when the limitations are blurry eyes and an achy neck and a stuffy nose.

After all, I think I needed this rest.

My body has been issuing a demand for pause and I have been ignoring it to the best of my abilities, which is not something I am now proud of. I can't say for sure what my iron levels are at this point, but I feel certain that they have dropped significantly and quickly of late because I have been having dizzy spells and just feel weary beyond anything I've ever felt before. I have not cheerfully accepted this new limitation (thus the pressing forward despite indications that I should not), but I am feeling remorse over that.

I tell the girls last night that perhaps the novelty of pregnancy has simply worn off and that's why it's hard for me to accept these adjustments to life as I was enjoying it, and not long after one of them prays that I will not miss the excitement and awe over a new baby even when it means giving up certain things.

Today, as I shorten school lessons and dole out extra chores to try to accommodate the limitations of this season, I think about that prayer. I think about the idea of limitations being a gift. I think about how self-sufficient I start to think I am when I am not confronted with the reality that I am not.

I think that this confrontation is a gift.

 

Home

Home today looks and sounds like:

- handwriting exercises and oral spelling tests

- processing at least 1 bushel of beautiful Wayne County apples

- saws and nails and the installation of more insulation upstairs

- autumn sunlight streaming in through freshly washed windows

- the washing machine humming non-stop as it works to keep up with our family

- audio Scripture 

- 16 weeks of growing