And then this happened…


We went to California on a family vacation shortly after Dad died and little did I know that I was already pregnant. I was convinced that since my almost nine year old took 2 years to conceive, though with a previous partner, it was certainly not going to happen right away. Oh, it basically happened right away – two cycles and I was pregnant.

We came home from California and I had a doctor’s appointment as soon as I returned (the next day) to check on my thyroid – it’s an annual thing – no big deal. Well, the numbers came back bad… and I mean the worst my numbers have been in a very long time. My TSH was very high – which is very bad if you’re pregnant, but pregnancy can cause that number to be incredibly high faster than a pregnancy will appear on a pregnancy test. Doctor immediately started adjusting my medication, no big deal. (Still… didn’t know that I was pregnant…) – three days later my monthly friend didn’t arrive by the end of the day (I’m nothing if not consistent…) and I was headed out for a night out with the ladies and I knew that there would be a LOT of tequila involved and I wanted to do a quick test just to ease my mind. I was SURE I was not pregnant but I just needed to see the negative to feel better about tying one on…

Surprise! Even after nearly 100 ounces of water and being VERY early pregnant – BabyChap still showed up on the test. I texted Drew and told him that he needed to come home immediately – he was on his way home from work anyway.

I had this fantasy idea that since, not only, was this Drew’s first biological child but its a child he had so desperately always wanted – that I should have this super fun way to announce to him that we were having a baby! I had looked over Pinterest for fun ways to tell him months before…

…None of those ideas happened. I knew that my TSH being so high could definitely cause a miscarriage regardless of the pregnancy being the cause or not. I, also, knew I have had issues with progesterone deficiency in pregnancy, which would definitely cause a miscarriage if not addressed. I was crying. I was pouring over how awful it would be if the first time Drew heard those words “I’m pregnant!” that it ended in a loss… How awful – any loss is awful, but that hit me in the gut and twisted know he and his beta wife had struggled with no success.

He walked in the backdoor, happy as always (this man is always oddly upbeat and positive, which is odd to me – but if he were skeptic or a cynic like me, we would be a mess…) and there I was in my work clothes, standing in our kitchen, crying and shaking.

“This is scary. I am scared. This could be bad.” I said, through tears.

“What??! What’s wrong? What happened??” He set his lunch box down and stood across the kitchen island from me looking extremely worried for obvious reasons.

“I’m pregnant.”

“You are?!”

“Yes. But my blood work on my thyroid was bad and I’m scared we are going to lose it. This could be all for nothing because my thyroid is so…” (interrupted)

“Honey! Are you sure?! That’s amazing! Don’t worry until there is something to worry about. You’re doing all that you can by having the doctor make adjustments. We’re going to have a baby!” (See previous mention of being incredibly and consistently positive and upbeat.)


The Day BabyChap was born.

We knew that this would be a high-risk pregnancy due to Boy Child’s delivery nearly killing us both. Lots of speculation that undiagnosed thyroid disease caused preterm labor and then the preterm labor caused the uterine rupture. Lots of various possibilities but none of which we were certain of. Due to the rupture the doctor did not want me to go beyond 36 weeks, so we knew BabyChap would be delivered a FULL month early and there were all sorts of risks involved with that. We had met with three specialists BEFORE getting pregnant to assess the risks and weigh the options as to whether or not this was a good idea or not. Specialists agreed that they had a solid plan and felt that they could minimize risk with pointed monitoring and they felt that their only legitimate concern was pre-term labor and a little NICU stay for an early baby. (Only one of those two things happened…sigh).

BabyChap’s pregnancy was uneventful even though life stressors stepped in and decided to hand us a huge pile of junk to sift through.

BabyChap was born at 36 weeks 0 days, 3/9/17 6lbs 8ounces (Great size for a full month early!) and 19.5 inches long.


I was so scared. The doctors were amazing, the secondary OB helping deliver turned on Amos Lee in the OR and BabyChap was born to Amos Lee’s “El Camino”. It was, by far, my easiest c-section even being 13 and 9 years out from my previous two. At 30, I was in better shape than I ever was at 18 or 22 when I was obese. The moment happened so fast, and its one of those things that the further you get away from it the more you wish you could go back and have that moment in a bottle and continue to revisit it as many times as possible. It becomes so blurry and that makes me sad given that this was Drew’s first experience and my last experience. BabyChap is definitively our last baby. Quite frankly, the experience was born beautiful for me to see my husband’s reaction, as opposed to the birth of the child. I had been bonding with him in utero for 9 months – but the moment with my husband would come and go so quickly…

He was, initially, given a clean bill of health and allowed to come to my room with me and be with family for all of ten hours – and then… at 1am the next morning, while I was sleeping and BabyChap was in the nursery, his little lips were turning blue and he was wheezing. The nurse came in with my tiny baby close to my face, swaddled tightly with the tiniest oxygen mask on his face that I have ever seen… BabyChap was relocating to the NICU and they were taking me downstairs to where the mom’s with NICU babies were moved to in order to be closer to their babies. I called Drew crying… and the next day began two of the longest weeks of my life… I was well aware that some parents would have their babies their for months and months and in a few cases more than a year… however, this was my reality and this was incredibly exhausting and painful and emotional and the hormones did NOT help… I knew it was a possibility, and you try to prepare yourself, but its daunting and for the next two weeks I lived in a 10 x 10 hospital room with my son trying to pretend that this was normal and I would handle it just fine until it was time for him to come home…


To be continued…


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