A viable option

Today marks my 24th week of pregnancy and as any high-risk pregnant woman worth her amniotic fluid knows, this is the magic day when the baby becomes viable. Yesterda,y if I were to have gone into labor, they would have been all "Too bad, so sad, no baby for you," but today they would be all "NICU! Oxygen! Heart monitors!"

I remember hitting this mark with Jack while I was sitting on my ass in the hospital on strict bedrest. With Emmie, I marked 24 weeks with a hospital stay due to the most horrific stomach flu ever. Imagine my surprise when I managed to pass this milestone without so much as glancing at the outside of the hospital this time around.

They say every pregnancy is different, and boy howdy, don't I know it. But knock on plastic and metal, I have had an easy go this time around when it comes to the risky crap. Sure, I was sick as a dog, but when it comes to the cervix, it appears to be behaving itself.

My OB reminded me last week that these are the most critical four weeks of the pregnancy coming up. Nobody wants to experience a NICU stay with a 24-weeker. Or a 25-, 26-, 27-, 28-weeker for that matter. But for now, we can breathe a little easier that we've passed the first critical milestone.

And so help me TIVO, if I turn up with some bizarre ailment that lands me in the hospital this week, I am just going to accept it as a sign I am not fit to be up and around during the 24th week of pregnancy.

In the meantime, I will be here stewing about my 17-pound weight gain and recent loss of the ability to sit up in bed. Despite feeling like I am large and in charge, my OB's ticker tape says I am measuring two weeks behind, so I guess I should shut up and stop complaining.