A Doctor, a Historian, and a Fighter

The other day, Fin told Sissy to lay down on the couch  He put a towel on her tummy, held up a clip board, and said, "Here Sissy. Picture. Picture!"  I'm pretty sure he gave her an ultrasound.  Two days ago, a stethoscope arrived so I could one day listen to the littlest Fleischman.  It has become Fin's favorite toy.  He spent several minutes listening to several parts of Sissy - her knee, her back, her arm.  Today, I showed him how to listen to my heart, which he loved.  The best part was when he smiled and told me reassuringly, "Okay, sounds good! Sounds good!"  Right now, he's wandering around with the stethoscope, a broken toy blood pressure cuff, and a toy syringe, happy as can be.  Dr. Fleischman has an excellent ring to it.

Sissy isn't doing too badly.  She had developed a craze for history.  She is becoming more like Matt every day.  He has a tendency to get an interest and then pursue it to a level of obsession.  It's been fun to watch her become interested in historic events and people.  She has decided to become a history professor.  Considering she also has an obsession in Minecraft and professional gamers, I'm glad to hear she's leaning toward a professorship.

As for the fighter...  Last Wednesday we got a plethora of potentially bad news for our littlest Fleischman.  The doctor says he is measuring small and may stop growing altogether, he may have contracted a virus and/or have a genetic disorder,  he probably has at least one knot in his umbilical cord and is not receiving enough oxygen and nutrients, he may have rocker bottom foot, that my amniotic fluid is low, and that my uterus is tearing away from its lining.  She made it clear that I could go into labor any day and things were possibly dire.  She said to make sure I feel the baby move every day. Well, at 23 weeks I was still having trouble feeling strong movement and never felt him when I was lying down - only when I'd been up and about for quite a while.  Because of all the complications, the doctor put me on bed rest.  Three days after being on bed rest, I had gone the whole day without feeling anything.  By midnight, I panicked and headed off to Labor & Delivery to verify a heartbeat.  While talking on the phone to the on call doctor, I was told that if the baby showed signs of distress, they would make no effort to save him because, at 23 weeks gestational age, the likelihood of survival was just too slim.  In short, they would wait for him to die and then remove him. You can imagine my relief at hearing that heartbeat and the reassurance from the nurse that he was quite active in there, even if I couldn't feel him. 

Yesterday I made it to my first gestational milestone: 24 weeks. He's now has a 50% chance of survival if delivered early, and goes up to 60%+ next Wednesday.   28 weeks is the next big milestone, as then his lungs will be much stronger and will be developed enough for breathing with minimal help.   Yesterday we also got the good news that I tested negative for Cystic Fibrosis.  In order for little man to have it, Daddy *and* I would have to be carriers.  1 in 31 Americans is said to be a non-symptomatic carrier.  That was a big relief, even if it doesn't rule it out completely. 

At that last ultrasound, they did an amniocentesis and took three vials: 1 to test chromosomes 1-22 +6 for genetic disorders, 1 to test for viruses, and 1 to look more closely at each chromosome if the first test comes back negative.  The genetic tests won't be back for another two weeks, but I'm hoping the virus results will be ready when I see the perinatal specialist on Wednesday. In the meantime, I'm dutifully lying down and doing my best to exceed my minimum ounces of water intake each day. 

Fin is watching way too much TV while Mommy can't play or take him anywhere, but he is being such a rock star.

I have three great kids.