I’m going to jump the gun here and celebrate today, even though I should wait until tomorrow. We have reached real, actual, legitimate viability. 28 weeks tomorrow and suddenly I am starting to worry about delivering a full-sized baby and Dan is starting to worry about what we’re going to do with a tiny human when we get him home, because these are things we can think about now that he is legitimately viable. Not on technicality, not just barely, not “he’d probably make it but he’d probably have serious neurological deficits” – in all likelihood he would be just fine, from here on out.
My relief is like a palpable thing, visible in my mood and every choice I make, suddenly it doesn’t seem like the only thing between this baby and certain death is my extraordinarily incompetent cervix, and I am relaxing by the hour. I can’t even imagine how I’ll feel when we get to 32 weeks. 34. 36. When, because it’s starting to feel a lot more like when and a lot less like oh-god-i-hope-and-hope. We’ll see at our next check next week, really.
And I know that every day has stretched on like an eternity. I know that I have been miserable, and scared, and at times kind of desperate to just sleep through it all, but now I can’t believe we are already here. I’ve been on bed rest of some kind for a month but it seems like just yesterday when I hit the 2nd trimester and started freaking out on a semi-daily basis. It’s forever while it’s happening and then it’s over and it’s just a blip on the radar, and we’re not even done yet, but we’re at 28 weeks. The magic 28 weeks. Where things really start looking up.