How it all started

“Hi, is this Jenna?” 

“Yeah”

“Hi, I’m calling from your doctor’s office. We got the results of your Ultrasound and we’d like you to grab your things and head into Labor and Delivery at the Hospital as soon as possible…” 

This was my first pregnancy and I was 27 weeks pregnant. My mind started down a path of destruction. The “oh no” thoughts came back fast. I couldn’t believe that after 27 weeks of what I thought was an amazing pregnancy, that I was being asked to go to the hospital! Why? What was happening? Was I going to have a premature baby? Was everything okay? 

I loved being pregnant. Like so many pregnant women, I was more tired than usual during the first trimester. Other than that, I was soaking in the pregnancy glow. I loved how my body was changing, I loved being able to eat whatever I wanted, I loved working out… overall, I was feeling SO good until I got that call. 

Me, loving being pregnant, on our Babymoon. This is where Sean felt her kick for the first time.

I did ask an important question when they called, “Can I have dinner first or…?”

“Yes, go ahead and have dinner and then head in as soon as possible…”

Of course, my appetite was gone by the time I got home but my husband, Sean, knows me. He knew I needed to eat something. In his magical ways, he calmed me down and reminded me the importance of not freaking out because we didn’t have answers to our questions yet. My nerves settled enough for me to eat a bit, and then we made our way to the hospital. 

The reason I was at the hospital played a critical part in what happened in my second pregnancy. Before I share that, I’d like to rewind a bit to the beginning of the journey. 

Sean and I got married in 2019. From our very first date we covered literally every topic under the sun. I made it very clear that I wanted to get married yesterday and wanted five kids! In response, he very casually said, “So what kind of tacos should we order?” Needless to say, we were on the same page about what we wanted in life and when we hoped it all would happen (i.e. yesterday). 

Three months before our wedding, I got off birth control to give my body a chance to “reset” after being on birth control for years. That July, we got married and were ready to start trying to get pregnant on our honeymoon. My body seemed to be back to “normal” after being off the pill. I was getting a consistent period so I thought, “Getting pregnant is going to be a piece of cake.” Well, we were incredibly shocked and dismayed when I didn’t get pregnant during our honeymoon.  And trust me, we tried! 

Of course, I know that not everyone gets pregnant the first time they try. So we tried again, and again, and again… for six months. After spending half of a year cautiously trying to get pregnant and having zero luck, it was time to see a doctor to get things moving. Remember, Sean and I wanted babies yesterday, we’d been waiting for 6 months and we still weren’t expecting. It was time to investigate. 

My doctor had me do all the tests — blood work, ultrasounds and cervix checks to make sure the sperm could get through. I even dyed my fallopian tubes to make sure everything was clear. All my tests came back fine, which is great, but doesn’t help when your body is still not doing what you thought was going to be “a breeze.” I’d waited my entire life to be a Mom and I was starting to get discouraged.  You are told from such a young age that, “all you need is one time” or “women's bodies are built to make babies,” which is technically true, but was apparently a lot more complicated for me and my body. Now, you might think, “Well, what about dad?” Sean got tested as well and — his guys were great. 

This took awhile and COVID hit San Francisco; it was March of 2020. Sean and I had always planned to leave the City before our kids were in Elementary school but the opportunity to work remotely came early. In June of 2020, we relocated to Bend, OR and have never looked back. 

The second I got to Bend I found an OB. Remember my dreams when I first met Sean? Get married and have kids, lots of kids! I couldn’t believe that it had been a full year since our wedding and I wasn’t pregnant. I knew I needed to find the best fertility doctor in town. It just so happens that this doctor is male. Honestly, I was a little apprehensive, as I had previously had an awful experience with a male doctor; however, they said if I was doing anything fertility related, I needed to see him. Say no more. 

From the first appointment I felt like he truly cared. He looked through all of my history and figured that my cycles were too short so my follicles (which turn into eggs) were not mature enough to be fertilized. He had me do the “Clomid Challenge”: I had to get blood work done on days 2 and 10 of my cycle, take Clomid (fertility drug) days 3 through 7, and then come in for a follicle check on day 12 or 13. Through this challenge, my doctor found that my brain was listening to the drugs but my ovaries weren’t fully listening to my brain. My doctor recommended I try a “sister drug” to Clomid, called Letrozole. Fortunately, I wouldn’t need to repeat blood work, but I would come in for the follicle check. 

Finally, some good news: my doctor was very pleased with how my body responded to Letrozole and he said if I didn’t get pregnant the first time, it’s very easy to replicate results and we can try a few more times before we go down any other avenues (IUI, IVF, etc.). Halle-freaking-lujah, on month two of Letrozole I got pregnant. You can imagine, there were happy dances, happy tears, and all the good feel’s! 

The “all is clear” ultrasound image. 12 weeks in.

Now, back to being 27 weeks pregnant. 

It was a Friday night and I received the call to come into Labor and Delivery Monday evening. On Friday night, as I was going to bed, I noticed a little spotting when I wiped after going to the bathroom. I remember thinking to myself, “hmm, that’s odd.”  It wasn’t a lot and there was no blood in my underwear or in the toilet. This is when the first “Oh no” thoughts came and I told my husband. We both felt that since the spotting was brownish (which typically means older blood) and I had no other symptoms, we’d go to sleep and see how I felt Saturday morning. 

I woke up and things were the same. No blood anywhere other than on the toilet paper from last night. It was Saturday and I couldn’t call my doctor so I texted a friend of mine who is a well respected ER doctor. After she asked me a ton of, “Do you have this?” questions and I responded with a corresponding amount of “No’s” she felt that as long as nothing changed, I’d likely be fine to wait until Monday to follow up. She did insist, out of an abundance of caution, to call my doctor first thing Monday. 

Nothing changed and I called my Doctor Monday AM. My doctor wasn’t available that day but after answering similar questions posed by my ER doctor friend, they asked me to go to do a cervical ultrasound at a nearby clinic. I left the ultrasound feeling fine, not knowing that hours later I’d receive a call that would change the course of my pregnancy. 

I got the call, ate my dinner with Sean and we went straight to the Hospital. 

Upon arrival, I was promptly checked into a room followed by a nurse immediately entering and putting a monitor on my belly to hear the baby. The doctor came in next to let me know that my ultrasound showed I have a shortened cervix. My pregnancy up until this point was “normal” so I had no idea what a “shortened cervix” meant for me, my baby or the rest of my pregnancy. Fast forward to today and I know more than I’d like about “shortened cervixes.”. Let me fill you in…

As you get closer to labor your cervix will shorten (docs will call this effacement) and then ultimately open (dilate) to allow you to deliver the baby. This is great when you’re 40 weeks pregnant and ready to go into labor… but I was 27 weeks pregnant! After the doctor explained all of this and performed a cervical exam, she felt that I could be a ticking time bomb. Can we agree that was not the greatest analogy?! Was I going to have this baby at 27 weeks? Was I going to stay pregnant? 

After assessing me, the NICU doctor came in to tell us what would happen with our baby if I were to give birth tonight, tomorrow, or any time in the next week.  My heart was racing. I just never imagined that I’d be in a situation where I was talking to a NICU doctor. I got a steroid shot and they were going to keep me overnight to monitor both me and baby and IF things seemed fine, I would get another steroid shot in 24 hours then potentially be free to go. 

I remember having a gut feeling that this wasn’t going to happen. I can’t really explain why, but I didn’t feel I was going to go into labor anytime soon. Not to say this wasn’t absolutely terrifying, but after hearing and digesting all the information from my medical team, I felt like in the worst case scenario (me delivering the baby that night), it would all be okay. I was 27 ½ weeks and the baby would have more than a 75% chance of being totally fine. We learned that 28 weeks is really the safe place; that is, IF you are going to go into preterm labor, babies have the best chance of survival at 28 weeks or more. 

Because this was still during Covid times, the hospital had strict restrictions on visitors. If Sean left, he would not be allowed to return until the next day. I told Sean to go home and get some rest and take care of the dogs. Also… I might have been in denial when the nurse originally told me to gather my things because I definitely didn’t bring a single item of clothing. Oops. But honestly… I felt oddly fine about Sean going home to rest for the night. I would rather him get some sleep at home, let me try to get some sleep in a hospital bed, and then come back first thing in the morning. After monitoring me for 24 hours, the team said I could either stay another night to just be sure or I could go home and they would schedule me an appointment with my doctor the following day. Following my gut, I chose option two and went home. 

I went in to see my doctor the following day and he did a test that would let us know if I was going to go into labor within the week. You can sometimes get a false positive, but he said you don’t really get a false negative, so it would be worth the peace of mind to give it a shot. After this rollercoaster of a week we finally got some relief; the test came back negative. Hearing those results just allowed me to breathe a little easier for at least the following week. Moving forward, the plan included going to see my doctor weekly for cervical ultrasounds and for me to pay attention to any changes in my body. 

From 28 to 32 weeks, nothing changed at any of my ultrasounds. At this point, I was far enough along that if I went into labor they wouldn’t try to stop it (they can’t stop active labor, but they can try a few things IF you’re not truly in labor yet). Basically, having a shortened cervix was what happened to my body when pregnant but wasn’t seeming to pose any threats. I ended up having a C section and meeting Via at 37 weeks and 5 days! Via was perfect and healthy (and still is!). She was born on Friday, July 9th and we went home Sunday, July 11th. She’s my light and my strength and even when it’s hard, she’s still absolutely everything. My dream of starting a big family officially began.  

Getting my first Via snuggles in.