16 Weeks with Emelia: Full of Annoyance. And Carbs.

The morning I woke up officially 16 weeks pregnant I felt amazing. I had a moment after eating breakfast (Chris made waffles and they were amazing) where I was feeling a little nauseous and then there was a brief circumstance of walking past the over-ripe bananas later in the day that caused me to almost heave, but overall… I felt amazing.

Monday, not so much. And Tuesday I did a huge dry heave while filling my water bottle at the refrigerator. So apparently I’m not out of the woods yet.

Baby Q is now the size of an avocado and apparently, her palm is the size of a chocolate chip. So THAT makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Tiny bones are forming in her ears, so she can start listening to our voices, and she’s growing taste buds, hair, lashes, and eyebrows. I’ve been definitely feeling little flutters and squirms more lately (though gas bubbles a plenty, thank you pregnancy).

My boobs and belly seem to be growing at an alarming rate. I noticed at 14 weeks my bras were getting snug and there’s not a lot of regular shirts I can wear anymore, which sucks because I was planning on wearing my tank tops all summer like I did with Olivia, but no. Not going to happen. Technically I’m a month ahead than when I was pregnant with Olivia, and clearly, am growing much quicker.

Tuesday I had my 16-week appointment with my doctor, along with blood work. My blood pressure is looking good at 116/83 and we were finally able to hear Baby Queso’s heartbeat on the doppler for the first time. In fact, we heard her whacking at it before we heard her heartbeat, which was 153. I’ve also gained 6 pounds so far, which probably is made of mostly of Cheetos Puffs.

She confirmed I didn’t need to be on restrictions anymore, so no more pelvic rest, though she acted like I really didn’t need to be on them in the first place.

“The baby has a heartbeat, so that tells us everything is healthy.”

Which OK that’s great, but plenty of women have to be on restrictions for vaginal bleeding and their babies still have a heartbeat. It was weird, and clearly, this is just another example on the sheer differences being an infertility patient versus a pregnant patient. As in, I’m clearly psychotic.

During my 12-week visit, we briefly discussed my desires for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) versus repeat cesarean. It was left as “with my history, everything is up in the air, but yes, I’d like to try for a VBAC.” I was wondering because I had heard another mama’s experience, that epidurals were sometimes required by certain docs for a VBAC. I asked my doctor while she was finishing up with the doppler check if she required this and she said not necessarily. That it depends. I asked her what risk factors I’d have to have for a VBAC not to be successful and she said it depended on my cervix, which I thought was strange, because doesn’t a normal vaginal birth depend on how a woman’s cervix is behaving, too? So it depended because I would need an epidural for a C-section if it came to that. I asked why I couldn’t just then have a spinal in the OR, and she said if it was emergent or an emergency, their only other option is to put me under. She said I “did have a chance” at a VBAC, but it was a risk because of my scar. Which I thought was unfair. Nothing in this pregnancy so far puts me at a disadvantage for a VBAC except for my prior surgery. And since plenty of women have successful VBACs—it’s just not a good enough reason in my book. Plus, the moment she basically said I had a small chance at one, I felt like… I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue with this provider.

She’s great, don’t get me wrong. And a lot of people really like her. But this VBAC thing… I just get the feeling she’s not supportive of it and would rather I have a repeat CS.

But according to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologist (ACOG), I have a 60-80% chance of having a vaginal delivery. I have a 1% chance of uterine rupture. One percent. That’s the risk she was talking about. I have a 1 in 500 chance of this risk. I would have to assume my chances of something going wrong are higher in major abdominal surgery, like postpartum hemorrhage, infection, and blood clots.

ACOG, along with Mayo Clinic recommends having a VBAC over a repeat C-section. And an induction does decrease the odds of a successful VBAC. And a failed trial of labor does increase the chances of complications, including uterine rupture.

I have my 20-week appointment scheduled already, so I plan on asking more questions about her VBAC success rates and digging in deeper these risks she’s talking about. But I do know of a provider at this clinic who is very VBAC-friendly and I would like my next appointment after that to be with him, so I can interview him as well. If I get a better vibe from him, I may end up switching. Plus there’s always the option of going with a midwife group in Minneapolis who are much more supportive of VBACs. It’s something to think about. I’m pissed I have to think about it at all, because my only reason for a C-section with Olivia was because she was breech, so clearly this entire thing is all her fault.

We also discussed starting the weekly progesterone injections for preterm labor. These need to be done in the clinic; they won’t let Chris give them to me at home. I plan on bringing out some of my pregnancy bitchiness at that first appointment to ask why. But first I have to talk to the insurance to find out what they’ll cover for it. More on this later.

I don’t know, you guys. I love being pregnant. But I hate being a pregnant patient. And my experiences at this clinic have been very different than my experiences at the other clinic with Olivia. I don’t feel like a human being sometimes here. I feel like everyone else from the triage nurses to the doctor is making the decisions for me and I know this all sounds like I’m being a big fat whiny pregnant woman, but still. I was really struggling after that appointment. It’s like I don’t have a lot of say in what’s happening with this pregnancy and I feel like I’m going to be constantly battling everyone to advocate for myself. We’ll see what the 20-week appointment brings.