Most of the drama for the rest of the pregnancy existed only in my anxiety-plagued mind. My OB knew this and let me take every test available, including the second trimester alpha-fetoprotein (AFP) test for any neural tube defect or other problems. We did a level 2 ultrasound at her office rather than going to the perinatologist who diagnosed Will's problem. I was still way off kilter about seeing those people or going to that office again.
Turns out my positive antibodies were likely caused by the D&E, an immune response to Will's tissue. The condition I had could possibly cause autoimmune hemolytic anemia, which could affect the baby at delivery. I got my blood drawn every two weeks to check for this condition.
Back before I got laid off in 2001, we'd refinanced the house and taken some cash out to remodel the kitchen. We put that job off when I got laid off. Then we were reluctant to spend it while we did infertility treatments in case we needed that money for another IVF cycle.
When we got close to the third trimester, we went to Lowes and picked out stuff for the new kitchen. We told them we had a deadline that must be met.
In my third trimester when so many women are resting and making lists, I was clearing away the demolition debris from what was my kitchen. (David was on a business trip.) We spent much of the end of the pregnancy working very hard to get the house nice for the baby (nicknamed Tarzan) and for the guests that would be coming through. Plus, I was working full time until the end.
Through this whole time I kept seeing my therapist and acupuncturist.
Our due date was June 15, a Wednesday, and I didn't want to go past that date for fear of increasing odds of stillbirth.
My mother scheduled a trip to come visit for two weeks, starting at the beginning of that due date week. But our little boy wasn't interested in coming on time.
