Today, I am 24 weeks pregnant. We, Skittle and I, have reached viability. Of course, considering that she has been measuring 7-8 days ahead, we may have reached it over a week ago, but that’s neither here nor there.
I will be honest and say that viability is not something I have really ever been waiting for. Especially knowing that I carried Cupcake to term with no serious complications (I did have placenta previa, but not gestational diabetes or pre-eclampsia or any other serious condition that could or did result in an early delivery), I have not been overly worried about preterm labor or other factors that may cause us to evict this baby from uterus. I still worry, of course, but I worry about things that will give me no warning — things like placental abruptions and cord accidents. Things that can kill my baby, even if she is long past viability. Morbid, I know.
But after my little scare last month, I became highly aware of how far away I was from having a baby that was ready for any sort of delivery. I realized in those moments when I thought I was leaking amniotic fluid that I was already incredibly attached to my unborn child, and did not quite know what I’d do if I lost her. And so here I am, at 24 weeks, breathing a small sigh of relief.
It’s not a huge weight that has been lifted off my shoulders. I still don’t feel entirely “safe.” But Skittle is now big enough to possibly survive outside my womb and that’s not insignificant. It’s another milestone reached and surpassed, at least.
Baby steps, friends. Baby steps and a little bit of ice cream to celebrate.