Age of Viability

For someone who has never had to say goodbye to a child born too soon, "viability" is not a milestone they usually think of during pregnancy. But today marks 24 weeks, which is considered by most hospitals to be the "age of viability."

That means, that unlike with the twins -- where we just had to hold them and watch them pass on -- this little bean would feasibly stand a chance. They would intervene. It wouldn't be easy. There'd be steroid shots and lots of NICU time, but they would try. And the survival rate climbs steadily from this point on.

It's very hard to think that a few short weeks makes such a difference. That our twins were so close to being "viable" -- and yet so far away.

Because we've reached this critical milestone in the pregnancy with no problems, next week will be our last regular visit with the high risk doctors. They're doing a growth scan, and then sending me on my merry way, because as the last doctor put it, "There's no emergency procedure to be done now. Your measurements have only gotten better and better."

As elated as that makes me, it's also bittersweet. In a weird way, I was hoping for a definitive 'problem' to fix. I wanted a reason for why I lost the twins. A reason my body failed. I wanted something to blame. "Oh, you definitely have an incompetent cervix." or "Your uterus is hypersensitive."

Instead, nothing has been indicated as a clear problem. And it all goes back to what the doctor told me the morning after the twins died. "Sometimes this just happens with multiples."

"Just happens," is nearly impossible to accept. My babies died, just because. And I can't blame.. I can't fix.. "just because."

And I look now in the nursery closet, filled with supplies we had purchased for the twins. Sad that Jasper and Bodhi aren't here to use them, yet hopeful that "Garby" will give it new life.

24 weeks and counting, little guy. <3