Author: Aimee Jones

Finding out the sex of the baby is by far my favorite moment of this pregnancy so far!

We decided to do the cell-free genetic screening this time around. This blood test checks for a few different genetic disorders and also identifies the sex chromosomes. We met with genetic counselors. They explained that all of Ginny’s genetic testing came back normal so they have no reason to believe we were at a higher risk of genetic defects. They drew my blood and said they would call within 5-9 business days with the results. 

Then Daniel left for a business trip to San Diego. My sister Keri and I joined him a few days later for vacation. We went to yummy restaurants (side-note: Daniel ate 22 tacos in his 10 days there), saw a bunch of sea lions, visited the town where I was born, watched paragliders, and went beach-hopping up the coast. It was so much fun!

Throughout the first few days of the trip, I was slightly pre-occupied with knowing the genetic counselor could call at any time. I really hoped we’d hear while we were together on this trip instead of back home while I was at work alone. Every time my phone made a noise, my heart jumped. Is that the call?! 

Meanwhile we were following all the stops we had planned for the trip…except one. I really wanted to show Daniel the beautiful beach my grandmother had taken Keri and me 13 years earlier. The problem was I couldn’t remember where the beach was. I described the place to Keri. It has beautiful black stones all along the beach. She had no memory of it. I tried googling it with no luck. I asked our Uber drivers; they had no idea. I was beginning to think I had dreamed of this beach. But I specifically remembered thinking, “Wow! This is so  beautiful. I need to bring Daniel here one day.”

It was Friday afternoon. I realized that it was past 5pm in the Eastern timezone; it was too late to get a phone call from the genetic counselor this week. I felt disappointed. I also had given up on finding the beach. Oh well… we were in beautiful San Diego on the way to our next adventure destination. We were heading to Torrey Pines State Reserve, where we would get to do a little hiking. 

We pulled into the parking lot just along the beach. I looked out the window and saw it! It’s the beach! The beach of my dreams is real! I saw the black stones and the memories came back. This is it! Keri suddenly remembered and agreed. Wow! I couldn’t believe we actually stumbled upon it! 

I was so excited to get out and show Daniel the highly anticipated beach. Just as he put the car in park, my phone rang. Could this be the call? I picked it up, and yes it was the genetic counselor. I put her on speaker phone so Daniel could hear. The results came back great. They showed no signs of the genetic disorders. I was very relieved. Then she asked if we wanted to know the sex. We quickly responded yes. She said they detected a Y chromosome. It’s a BOY!! 

Wow! A boy! Daniel and I smiled at each other while Keri cheered. Something about knowing that he is a boy made it all seem more real. He’s his own person; he is real. We love him. 

We got out and walked to the beach. Daniel and Keri agreed the beach was indeed very beautiful. We came up with the idea to collect the bluest stones and spell out “boy” for a cute picture. What a perfect moment!

I stood on the beach staring at the waves with the sun on my face. I felt real joy. I couldn’t believe how beautiful that moment was. I felt God was telling me, “I do want to bless you. I do want joy for you. The season of sorrow will not be forever. There are good things ahead for you.” In that moment, I felt more hope that we will actually get to bring this baby boy home with us than ever before. I’m so grateful. I will never forget it. 

• 

• 

One thing I was most nervous about getting pregnant again was going back to the ultrasound clinic at the hospital. The waiting room was the last place in our former “before” life. The dark room was where our world came crashing down. The thought of going back there frightened me, but I knew it would be worth it. 

After finding out I was pregnant, I made two appointments right away. The first was with my MFM (high risk OB) and the second was an ultrasound (the first ultrasound since Ginny died). That first prenatal appointment was on December 4th. I was anxious for it, but mostly just eager to come up with a plan for this pregnancy. I figured this appointment would just be talking because it is too early to hear the baby’s heartbeat. I had some comfort in knowing that we couldn’t get bad news and my heart wouldn’t be broken in this appointment. 

We arrived for the appointment. Daniel and I had a good discussion with the doctor, and we had a plan in place for the next 9 months. Then the doctor said, “Let’s do an ultrasound and see the baby today.” My heart leapt. I hadn’t mentally prepared for this. But maybe this is better. I didn’t have a chance to worry and work myself up for it. The nurse brought the ultrasound machine in the exam room, and the doctor stepped out while I went to the restroom. I came back into the room and immediately apologized to Daniel. He asked why I was apologizing. I said, “I left you alone in a room with an ultrasound machine.” He said, “Yeah, that was a bit harder than I thought it would be.” 

The doctor and nurse returned. They attempted an over-the-belly ultrasound. I knew it was too early to see much that way. Then they switch to a transvaginal ultrasound.    I didn’t care. I just wanted to see a heartbeat. We looked at the tiny blob on the screen. We saw a flicker! What a relief! There was a heartbeat!

As we were leaving, Daniel said, “I haven’t been this happy in a really long time. I was so happy to see the heartbeat.” That warmed my heart. 

This took so much pressure off the ultrasound the next week. There is a heartbeat, at least for now. 

As the ultrasound appointment drew near, I got more and more fearful. I know my true fear was another loss, but my mind wouldn’t let myself focus on that possibility. What I was so nervous about was …what if we get the same sonographer? I vaguely remember what she looks like. What if we get the same room? I think it was room 6 maybe. What if we get the same doctor? The one whose face I was looking at and voice I was hearing in the worst moment of my life. What if all this happens, and I have a panic attack or some sort of PTSD episode? I knew it was irrational. Even if we had the some sonographer, same room, and same doctor, the outcome is likely different. This is a new day and a new situation. I couldn’t help but be nervous. 

I read techniques for calming panic. I learned how to breath right and what to focus on. I wrote scriptures on index cards and put them in my pocket. Just knowing they were there helped. 

Daniel and I arrived to the clinic. The lady at the front desk said, “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” Yes we had. Did she remember us? 

We waited in the same waiting room. It felt different now. It was such a happy and hopeful place before. I thought of it as a place parents wait to see their babies, but now I know it is also a place parents wait to get terrible news. Daniel and I tried to distract each other. Finally my name was called. I looked up. The sonographer was not the one I vaguely remembered. In fact she was the one who did Ginny’s anatomy scan. That was a wonderful memory. She was friendly and brought us back to “Room 6”. I felt afraid, but when we walked in the room I realized I was mistaken. Room 6 is not the dreaded room. 

As soon as we walked in, she asked, “Is this your first child?” That question. Of course that question. “No actually, our daughter died at 35 weeks in utero. This is our second child.” Tears immediately started flowing down my face. Daniel explained, “This is our first time back here.” She was immediately warm and empathetic. She said this is going to be good because we will get to see our baby. She took me to the bathroom. While I was in there, she asked Daniel more details of what happened. She asked what our daughter’s name is. I had pulled myself together, and the sonographer asked if I was ready. I said yes. She went straight for the transvaginal ultrasound. I couldn’t look at the screen at first. I needed confirmation of a heartbeat before I could bear it. I heard her say, “There’s the heartbeat!” I felt such relief. Baby is growing right on track. She printed us a few pictures and emailed me more. 

As we left, I walked past the sonographer who couldn’t find Ginny’s heartbeat. I think she recognized me because she looked at me with such sadness in her eyes. I know that was a hard day for her. It had to be.

We left the clinic knowing our baby is alive and with a new memory of that place. I felt proud of myself. We did it! We faced our fear of that place. We took the rest of the day off to be together and celebrate. 

My next appointments and ultrasounds would be scheduled at a different location. We realized that although the hospital is less than 5 minutes away from both of our jobs, it is worth the extra 15 minute drive to not have the anxiety of returning there. I feel more peace at the new location. Each appointment is a challenge on its own without bad memories on top of it. I’m grateful to have location options and still see the same MFM team. 

At the 11 week ultrasound, they measured the nuchal translucency. All measurements were good. This was the first ultrasound where the baby actually starts looking like a baby, not just a little blob. I love seeing the little nose and hands.

We are now anticipating the big targeted anatomy ultrasound scheduled for March 5th. We are excited to see the baby wiggle, gain peace of mind, and get pictures. But we are anxious because this is where they will be checking how the baby has developed. After hearing so many baby loss stories, I now know what can happen at these appointments. I will probably have a pocket full of scriptures and hesitate to look at the screen. But no matter what the outcome, we will get through it. I’ve never felt braver. 

Just a few hours before we found out we were pregnant again, Daniel and I were talking with a wise friend after church. We were talking about losing Ginny and how it can be difficult to hear of others giving birth to living babies. She said that as a community of friends, we agree to walk with each other through the good and the bad. She described how she recently attended a Jewish wedding. In the Jewish tradition, the bride and groom break a glass. Breaking the glass is acknowledging that they are forming this covenant in a broken world. The world is full of pain, suffering, and risk, but they choose to take the risk and support each other – with the help of God. 

Later that day, I took a positive pregnancy test. I remembered our friend’s story of the Jewish wedding. Daniel and I discussed it; we have chosen to bring a child into this world, knowing full well it is broken. Unlike the last pregnancy, we know there is risk and there is pain and there is loss in this world. We acknowledge it, and we still took the risk. But we will be there to support each other and our children – with the help of God.

My pregnancy has been classified as “high-risk”. After all the test results were evaluated by a few different doctors, the true cause of Ginny’s death is still unknown. All we know is that Ginny had intrauterine growth restriction (aka she was small) and the placenta was small and unhealthy. All the conditions that Ginny and I were tested for came back negative. We don’t know exactly what happened. Because of this, there is a “high” risk that it will happen again. The doctor explained that “high” means 1/100, so most likely I will have a healthy living baby. The statistic doesn’t mean much to me. Once you realize it can happen to you, you are always aware it can happen to you. 

Since I am high-risk, I see special OBs called Maternal Fetal Medicine (MFM) doctors. I will get much more monitoring. My ultrasounds will be more frequent and a lot more thorough. I take low-dosage aspirin daily. The doctors won’t let me go past 39 weeks, and they said if I am really anxious, they will induce at 37 weeks. That’s why my due date (40 weeks) is July 28, but I know I will deliver no later than July 21. I feel good about this plan.

If only I had more monitoring during my pregnancy with Ginny, maybe they would’ve noticed she wasn’t growing, maybe they would’ve seen the placenta wasn’t healthy, maybe they would’ve induced me, maybe she would’ve spent a little time in the NICU and then come home, maybe she would be in my arms right now. 

I hate to have regrets, but one of my biggest is not getting a third trimester ultrasound. When my mom visited to help set up the nursery in mid-February last year (two weeks before Ginny died), she offered to take me to a private ultrasound clinic to get pictures of Ginny. I knew that would probably cost a few hundred dollars. “We will see her in person in just 6 weeks. We shouldn’t spend money on that. Plus she is so big and smooshed in there; we probably wouldn’t get a good face picture.” … Worst case scenario, we would’ve had more pictures of Ginny – pictures that I would’ve treasured forever. Best case scenario, they would’ve caught that she was small and sent me to the doctor. We could’ve saved her! Oh, what I wouldn’t spend on that ultrasound knowing what I know!But of course, I didn’t know any of this then. I made what I thought was the smartest decision.  

As painful as that “what if” is, it does give me some comfort for this pregnancy. The doctors say that what happened to Ginny didn’t happen overnight. Even if the same thing were to happen again, we would hopefully catch it in time! When I get to a point, I will be getting weekly ultrasounds and non stress tests. If I get far enough along for viability, it is likely that this baby will survive. I hope. 

It is worth the risk. 

Ginny is a big sister! That’s right. We are pregnant again! I am 14 weeks along with a baby due in July. We are very happy and hopeful but also scared and feeling every emotion.

The doctors told us I needed to wait at least 6 months after Ginny’s stillbirth to be physically ready. Sometimes that 6 months felt long. I had the instinct and desire to care for a baby right away. My empty arms ached to hold my child ASAP. But I knew we weren’t emotionally or mentally ready for another baby. The 6 month mark came and went. We still weren’t ready. 

As a couple more months passed, I realized we should either get pregnant before the end of the year or wait until after Ginny’s birthday in February. I had so much anxiety during the first trimester last pregnancy. I knew it would be too hard to be in the first trimester during her birthday. I wanted to be into the 2nd trimester before February came. Toward the end of October, we decided the time was coming to start trying again. I prayed…

Oct 18, 2019

Dear Jesus, 

Please be with us on this journey to try to conceive. I know you are. 

Please let everything happen in your timing. 

You know our hearts. You know we want to bring a healthy baby home and watch him or her grow into adulthood, knowing you. 

But you are the creator and sustainer of life. Your will be done. 

We know your purpose and understanding are greater than ours. We trust in you. Whether you give or take away, blessed be your name. 

Help us to serve you in joy and pain. 

Help us not to fear or be anxious. Help us to celebrate and rejoice in all and any life. Let our previous loss and despair not steal joy from our hearts of our future children. 

Help us to always remember and honor Ginny. Please let her know we love her so much. Guide us as we teach our future children about her and about eternity. Thank you for hope. 

Give us wisdom in decisions. Guide our paths and help us remember you are in control and not take on more than what is ours. 

Help us enjoy the journey and have love and hope in our hearts and minds. Thank you for your grace which is sufficient.

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” – 1 John 4:18

Amen.

On November 17 I took a positive pregnancy test. Daniel was with me. We looked in disbelief at the two lines and then the digital “yes” of the second test. We are very blessed and grateful to be able to get pregnant right away. We couldn’t believe it! Although we should’ve predicted it because that’s what happened with Ginny too. We were excited and happy, but we also needed time for it to sink in. We told our families and asked them to pray. They were all so happy. 

The next morning I opened my Bible App and read the verse-of-the-day as I do everyday. On Nov 18 the scripture was, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” 1 John 4:18. God reminded me of my prayer exactly one month earlier. 

Before I was pregnant, I thought I would want to announce right away. I thought I would just want to celebrate every moment of this new life with as many people as possible. But when I actually became pregnant, something was holding me back. It wasn’t a fear of loss, although I had that fear. I knew I would share my journey no matter what. I think what was holding me back was the “Congratulations.” It is the appearance that everything is okay now, that we are all better and moved on. This new life is wonderful and miraculous and joyful, but it doesn’t take away the pain and loss of Ginny. It’s so complex.

And then there are the triggers. My heart breaks a little when I think of buying baby items or decorating a nursery. Those are still triggers. That’s why I was resistant to telling people.

When someone asks, “How are you feeling today?” in a cheery voice, I think… How am I feeling today? Do you want me to describe my pregnancy symptoms? The symptoms that I scrutinize to assess the health of a person the size of an apple seed? This apple-seed-sized person who I am entirely responsible for and yet have entirely no control over? How am I feeling today? I feel like I miss Ginny and I love Ginny. I feel like I am scared for this baby and I love this baby. So…  “I feel fine.”

I don’t know where to look.  If I look at baby stuff and make plans for the future, I am surrounded by what we don’t have with Ginny. That breaks me. If I look to the baby loss community that has comforted me so much in the last 11 months, I am reminded of the very real possibility of another loss. I’m in this in-between place, and it all depends on my mood. I may need to change topics quickly if I feel a shift. 

So far I’ve had three different kinds of days: 1) I feel hopeful and am so happy to be pregnant, 2) I feel pretty certain we will lose this baby. On these days every time I go to the bathroom I half-expect to see blood, and 3) I almost forget we are pregnant. It doesn’t even seem real yet. Is this really happening? 

I know people want me to be positive. I want to be positive, but I’m not going to pretend. It’s not a “fake it ’til you make it” situation. It’s not an “overcome it” situation either. It’s a “trust” situation – it is a “trust either way” situation. I’m going to do my best every day. Some days I will feel like celebrating. Some days I will feel like crying. It’s complicated. Thanks for being patient with me. 

The baby is no longer the size of an apple seed. According to the internet, he or she is the size of a peach. 🙂 It is finally starting to sink in that I’m pregnant again. I’m finally starting to entertain the possibility of bringing this baby home. I’m very grateful. I do want to celebrate together, through my rawness. 

I am excited to share this journey with you! I have so much to tell you about my first trimester, my prenatal care, ultrasounds, finding out the sex, naming the baby, and all the feelings along the way. We have a long way to go. Thank you for your prayers and support!