If you'd like to read about her, here you go.
Keep in mind that Amilia, the little girl who was born at 21w6d, was just the tiniest bit bigger than my son. He was 9oz in weight and 9" long. Amilia was under 10 z and under 10" long, too. Last week, as I reported, Dash has an estimated weight of 14oz, so quite a bit bigger than Jackson or Amilia.
Although the odds would be horridly against her, birth at this point would not necessarily result in Dash's death.
But it would result in several other things, so I've finally begun some minor preparations. While browsing at the mall today, I stopped at Motherhood Maternity and picked up a few nursing bras.
Why?
Two reasons: I need new bras since my current stash doesn't fit anymore and . . .
Living or dead, when Dash is born my milk will come in. If she is alive, you'd better believe she'll be getting mother's milk.
If she's not, or if she lives but not for long, then I'll buy a pump and spend at least a month pumping to donate milk. I haven't researched where to donate to, but this is something I can do in the days following her birth.
Mother's milk for a preterm baby is the most nutrient dense milk there is and according to a few nurses I've communicated with, NICUs use it whenever they can. If my donation can help save the life of someone else's baby, then you can bet I will do my best to help!
Until the week prior to Jackson's birth, I'd never even heard of stillbirth moms donating milk but when I read the story of a mother who had done just that, I knew it was something I would do if my milk came in. At just a day under 20 weeks, I was told my chances of it coming in were 50/50.
It never did. I had phantom letdowns for about 6 weeks, but that was it.
Now my chances of my milk coming in are probably close to 100%. I can't find a statistic on this and don't want to keep reading personal blogs to find out; it's a highly emotional thing to go through. But given that I'm getting phantom letdown again a couple times a week, it seems like my body is already gearing up for production of its miracle liquid.
There are moments when I realize just how few weeks I may have left to be pregnant. I can't guess what the future holds, and I'd love to be hugely pregnant at Christmas, but I might not be. It feels like my days of kicks and wiggles are already coming to a close and that makes me sad.
As horrid as my anxiety is, I absolutely love being pregnant. I don't get morning sickness, I was able to solve the Sunday Headache mystery, and there's simply something amazing about feeling life within me.
Equally amazing is watching the look on my daughters' faces as they place a hand on my belly and feel her moving, too.
Today was the first time my 4 yr old recognized what she was feeling. She'd crawled in my lap while the daycare children were napping. Dash had been kicking pretty hard, so I placed her hand in the spot where most of the movement was concentrated. It took a minute or two for another really solid kick, but it happened.
"Mom! I felt that! It was like a bump under my hand!" She's old enough to know she should whisper, so it was the most exuberant whisper you could possibly imagine. Her excitement was palpable.
My heart swelled with gratitude, not only for Dash, but for my precious daughter who keeps those around her smiling with her abundance of joy and her ability to tell stories. She loves life.
There are some things I will start to do in the coming weeks, mostly with a sense of caution. I know that anything I do needs to be something that can be undone if necessary.
- Move my fabric bins to the basement, where a new-to-me sewing desk is located. It's a handmade desk and bookshelf combo that will hold both of my machines as well as a lot of my organizing bins.
- Remove one of the bookshelves from what is currently my sewing room. There is no room for a crib or bassinet at the moment. I won't set up the crib until after Dash is born, but it's time to at least make room.
- Sew a healthy stash of breast pads. With my serger, these should be a nice quick project. I even have flannel scraps ready to do this once I cut them out.
- Research my health insurance for breast pump coverage. I won't buy a pump anytime soon, but I'd like to know how much of the cost can be covered by insurance. If my insurance covers a decent portion, I will buy a fancier pump than if the coverage is rather pathetic.
- Tour the Birthing Inn. This appointment has already been set up, so it's just a matter of waiting until that designated day.
- Begin my Hypnobabies studies. I purchased the full curriculum and it should arrive in the next day or two. This will involve both reading and listening. The soundtracks are about half an hour each, and I will find time each day to listen to them in preparation for what I hope will be an epidural-free birth. I've done it once, I hope to be able to do it again.
- It's time for my husband and I to start thinking about names. This has never been very hard for us, but I think it will be much more difficult this time than it has been in the past.
Of all the things on the list, I believe #7 will be the hardest for me. You can't undo the naming of a child. Each time I start to think about names, I think of the conversations my husband and I had and that last one in particular, where we agreed that regardless of the outcome, our son would be Jackson Lawrence.
Jackson was still alive when we made that decision, and tears were streaming down my face in fear during the entire decision-making process.
Here is the picture I took early this morning.
On a side note, I believe my baby is growing hair on her head. Acid indigestion has set in, much like it did with my other girls. Calcium antacids are absolutely no help! It's not horrible, but chocolate and dairy products really seem to set it off and evenings are worse than mornings or afternoons.
Thinking of her hair makes me wonder what color it will be?!?? There is a chance she could be a redhead; my maternal grandmother was a redhead and I have the fair skinned, freckled complexion. I just happen to tan a little as well.
There is also a chance that she could have hair like her sisters, born with dark brown/black hair and then growing in blonde.
Or even starting blonde but changing to the deep brown/black that my husband and his sisters inherited from their parents.
That I can even think of such a thing is a sign of my progressively cautious optimism.
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If you would like to read the different perspective on the emotional aspects of pregnancy after loss, there is a decent list here.
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