It seems that I have made it into the celebrated territory of the second trimester. Unfortunately, nobody remembered to inform the welcoming committee. Although the vomiting has begun to subside the past week or so, the nausea has not gotten the message to leave me in peace. Nor have the headaches or other digestive ailments. I’m afraid that the much welcomed energy boost hasn’t been delivered either. But, sadly, it’s the 2nd trimester gift that I covet more than anything that is by far the least likely to make it’s way to my doorstep: confidence.
In the vast majority of pregnancies, about 95%, the presence of a strong heartbeat after around 12 weeks pretty much guarantees a good outcome. I am the 5%. I am second and third trimester loss due to unexplained placental issues. And for this reason I am seriously contemplating the idea of not telling my family about this pregnancy unless or until I deliver a live baby.
I am scheduled for an ultrasound in a couple of weeks that should give us some important information on growth and development as well as placental health. In the meantime, I think that I am beginning to develop an abdominal protrusion/enlarging midsection/fat belly/kangaroo pocket/baby bump or whatever you want to call it. I continue to take it one day at a time with measured doses of caution and hope. There is no reassurance that things will be all right. But, so far at least, there is not concrete reason to believe that they won’t.