The countdown has begun. I am 24 weeks pregnant as of this past Wednesday and November will come faster than I can imagine. But my countdown has nothing to do with my due date and more with viability of the unborn. As much as I try not to think about it, somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice whispers about amniotic fluid, and ruptures, and Preterm births. So now that I have made it to a point in my pregnancy where a real attempt to save my child's life would commence if he/she would be born early I can't help but think every Wednesday "one more week, let's at least have one more week".
And occasionally my paranoia and fear will cause me to turn to the Internet for answers. And soon I find myself knee deep in information about premature infants, survival rates, and NICU's in BC - and as much as I want this information, for my own peace of mind, I also wish I didn't need to feel this way during my final pregnancy.
My first pregnancy I was so blissfully ignorant to any possible problems that may arise. It happened to other people - sure- but to me... No never. Ignorance is bliss...and I miss it. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I sit around hour after hour, worrying and fretting and praying (being a mother of two dictates that isn't possible), but every now and then, when the kids are in bed , the house is finally quiet and "The Finale" is kicking me, I can't help but rub my stomach and ask my body to cooperate - for at least- one more week.