Jensen's Birth Story

Wow. Here we are. We made it to Jensen's birth. All the unknowns are now known. I'm hurting so much but also can't wait to share my beautiful baby boy with the world. 

2 weeks before my induction, we found out Jensen had flipped and was transverse (his back was down and over my cervix). This would mean I would have to have a c-section if he didn't flip by Monday, July 7th. He was such an active baby so there was definitely a possibility he would go head down again. The week before our induction, I just kept having this feeling that I was going to have a c-section due to his position. When we got to the hospital Monday morning, they did a quick ultrasound and he was head down. Part of me was happy but also part of me felt disappointed. I could have sworn all week, God was telling me I'd have a c-section. Oh well. This was good news as I was going to try and go unmedicated with 2 bereavement doula's by my side helping me. We had put on my birth plan that a c-section was our last option if we noticed that my life was at risk at any point during delivery. 

We started Cytotec at 8am that morning as I was only dilated to 1cm. 4 hours later I was at a 3 and we started Pitocin. We slowly upped the Pitocin all day. About 9.5-10 hours later, around 10pm, after laboring all day and managing contractions, I was checked and still only at a 3. I was so disappointed but also knew that because of his diagnosis that there was going to be a harder time having Jensen's help to dilate me. My midwife and nurse sat there reviewing my options. We could keep doing what we were doing and up the Pitocin every 30 minutes. Mind you, Pitocin was already at 12 and the hospital would automatically cap it at 20. We could get an epidural and just turn up Pitocin or we could go for a c-section. I excused everyone from our room and just broke down to Caiden as I was unsure what I should do. Deep down I felt the need to get a c-section but it felt so counter-intuitive as it was the last option we wanted to happen. I wasn't worried about trying for a VBAC in the future, but to sign myself up for major surgery especially while knowing that Jensen was going to pass and that a funeral would be happening soon, it just felt like a lot. 

I called my midwife and nurse back in and had them walk me through how the c-section would work and I told them about how I felt like I would have a c-section and my midwife was so supportive and reminded me to trust my intuition so we did. Within minutes, we were getting a new IV in and my OBGYN had gotten to the hospital. The anesthesiologist was in my room talking to me about the spinal block and the process of it all. Mentioned some nausea symptoms but that they would give me Zofran quick to help ease that if I were to feel that way *Spoiler Alert - I was SO nauseous.. like so nauseous* Before I knew it, our family was in our room and I was being wheeled away to the OR. 

~We had my midwife record the whole surgery which is absolutely wild to watch and now helps me realize why I hurt so bad. Man that's intense stuff. I've gained a whole new respect for c-section mama's. Absolute rockstars~

A moment I'll never forget was when I heard my OBGYN say, "Hi!! Happy Birthday!!" I couldn't wait for them to pull down that curtain so I could see my beautiful boy! They showed him to us and he let out a few soft cries/squeaks and before I knew it he was laying on my chest. 9 months of carrying this baby boy, 4 months of that spent researching and preparing as much as possible for him to join us and have a million plans/back-up plans for all the unknowns. The doctors all told me Jensen was the boss and we would have to follow his lead in everything. 

As I worked through another bout of nausea, I finally felt good and just stared at our baby Jensen that we had waited so long to meet. Here he was. Alive. I had them wrap him up and give him to Caiden to hold while they finished surgery. I was wheeled back into our room and within a few seconds, Caiden wheeled our boy in. We were welcomed by our families and boys and it was so special to share him with everyone. 

Hour 1 with our boy. Surreal. Euphoric. Sacred.

Born at 11:15pm. 5lbs 9oz. 18 inches long

Hodge Podge of Updates June 6, 2025

June 6, 2025

It's been a minute since I've found the time to sit down and give an update on the good ol' blog... okay, let's be real, I've had plenty of time to sit down and write.. I'm just lazy, and oh so tired. SO TIRED. I, in fact, am so tired that I ASKED for a blood draw today at my midwife appointment because I think I'm anemic and need some help. 

So here's the update: 

The conference room chat that I mentioned in my prior post, it went well. I only cried for like 3 whole minutes out of the 2 hours we were there. It's just small moments when you realize you're actually talking about how to make your child comfortably pass from this life where you have this like, "Wow. That's the conversation I'm having right now. This is real life." that catch me off guard and get me emotional. The team we met with were super awesome, kind, and knowledgeable which helped me breathe easier. After doing all my research on which hospital to deliver at, we went with the hospital in the city -- the one an hour and a half away from where we currently live. It's definitely a commitment to drive up every other week and soon every week, but I feel we will receive the best care. 

We bought our first home!! 

The home that I also mentioned in my prior post.. yeah.. the one that is 3 hours away from the hospital that we're delivering at.. yeah. That one! We closed a week ago. Luckily we have no rush to get moved over so we will slowly move throughout the month of June and officially be in by the end of the month. That drive to the hospital is gonna be long but it's okay. We also got an induction date scheduled for July 7th, which when I received the call to confirm this delivery day.. it made me sick to my stomach honestly. It put an "end" date on things if you want to put it that way. Partly feel sick because did I just pick Jensen's death date?

...moving on

This last weekend I had some pretty intense bleeding and was super concerned I was going into preterm labor. I headed to the local hospital where I met our good family friend Dr. Gilbert (also mentioned in previous posts) to ultrasound me quickly to see if we needed to head to the city hospital's ER. He even called my previous OBGYN who stopped by my appointment to look at my ultrasound to double check everything. They sent me up to labor and delivery to have a non-stress test and everything seemed fine.. so while I'm clueless as to why I was bleeding, Jensen was super active the whole time and honestly, I was more concerned about my health then Jensen's in that moment because he seemed to be happily kicking like he always does. Luckily, the bleeding has tapered off and I'm praying it stays away. 

Another neat experience throughout all this -- Jensen has been breach my entire pregnancy. About a month ago, my midwife had mentioned that as we got closer to delivery, she could give me some tricks to help try to flip him head down. After that appointment, in our family prayers every night, I would try to be specific and ask that Jensen would go head down before labor. 2 weeks after that appointment, I went in for another MFM ultrasound and the tech was in awe at how low Jensen is and BOY DO I FEEL IT. He is so lowwww. I'm just super grateful that God listened to my prayers and that Jensen is such a good listener and decided to go head down. Not always common for anencephalic babies. 

We've started talking to Remi and Free about Jensen's diagnosis. Its brought me to tears a few times as we try to be as honest about Jensen's situation with them. I've tried explaining what and where their brains are and that Jensen is missing a lot of his and so he won't be coming home with us. Remi now understands that Jensen will live with Jesus "at his house" in Heaven, which has been so special to see him *kinda* grasp what that means. The heartbreaking moments are when Remi says, "But I won't get to play with him?!?" in a very concerned and sad tone. ...no buddy. Jensen won't get to play with you. We've talked about bringing a toy to the hospital with him for when he meets Jensen and Remi is now on the hunt for a good toy. He keeps asking me if he should bring his Hot Wheels Garage, which is 3-4 times Remi's size haha 

I've started having dreams about delivering Jensen. I wouldn't say good dreams, I wouldn't say bad.. but ones that I wake up from feeling depressed and not wanting to get out of bed. I'm 5 weeks away from delivering him and all the unknowns will become lived experiences and part of me feels ready. Part of me wants to get it over with. The other part of me is hoping it never comes. It's a weird balance. 

So overall, the anxiety is starting to get to me.. but I try to not let it overcome this experience and make it a negative thing. I'm just praying that the day we meet and the day we say goodbye to Jensen (while I know it will be traumatizing and heartbreaking) I hope the overall feelings are joy, love and peace. 

-Aubrey

"Palliative Care" March 28, 2025

March 28, 2025 

It's been one month since we found out about Jensen's diagnosis. This week I passed my glucose test and met with MFM (Maternal Fetal Medicine) again. I'm not necessarily tired of talking about Jensen and his diagnosis, but it seems the days that I feel like I'm talking to medical doctors about next steps and my delivery options and what not, I feel drained the rest of the day. I don't know if that relates to these conversations because I'm not necessarily crying through them or really even struggling to talk about what my options look like. So, maybe they're not even tied. Maybe it's just growing a little human inside of you. haha 

Other than his head, Jensen is growing right on track. Isn't that such a weird thing? For something so severely to be going on - ya know, like having very little brain tissue and skull - but be kicking away and growing as he should? It's such an odd thing to me, which is why I feel like grief is such a weird thing too right now. Trust me. I have my moments where I really just need a good cry... and sometimes it's just a subtle thing that triggers me - like driving past a cemetery and realizing we'll have a SON in one soon. yuck. I don't like that. 

Jensen is so active. My most active baby. It's honestly a gift. The pregnancy insomnia isn't so lonely when I've got him kickin' me reminding me he's still around. I've tried to pay attention to what makes him most active but honestly, he just likes when I eat food. 

Remi and Free know Jensen's name and are starting to comprehend that they have another brother. It was really sweet the other night putting the boys to bed and Remi randomly mentioned loving his brother Freeman. I responded with, "Awe that's sweet bud. Ya know, baby Jensen is also your brother. He just needs more time to grow before he comes out of mom's belly to meet you." The look on Remi's face when he exclaimed, "I have TWO brothers?! Thank you mom!" He's such a sweetie...most of the time. Freeman mostly asks to see my belly then says, "Baby Jensen, wake up!" and claims he felt him kick haha. Not quite sure how we'll break the news to them that baby Jensen won't be coming home with us.. we'll cross that bridge when we're ready. 

In other news, my high risk OB talked about how most likely he will be born alive. You google the stats and most of it says that anencephalic babies don't even make it to term and are almost always stillborn. So I'm not sure what to believe. I'm preparing for a stillborn baby, anything else will be great and of course, accepted. I'm learning more about "Palliative Care" - it's where doctors and nurses are trained in how to make everyone comfortable in situations like a terminal diagnosis. In fact, Caiden and I are waiting to get a meeting scheduled down in the city with a whole team of doctors who are on the palliative care team to talk about all our options and what delivery will look like from their end. Another weird thing- I'm now one of those people who sits in a conference room with a team of nurses/doctors/social workers while they brief me on what's about to happen in a few months. I'm sure I will cry in that meeting. How can I not when a ton of medical people sit there and try to prepare me for what I'm dreading? They've seen it. They know it. Me? I have no idea what's about to happen. 

In other news, we put an offer in on a home about an hour and a half away from where we currently are. Which is exciting but adds a whole new layer of crap I need to deal with. Currently, we are about an hour and a half away from the city but we have a very small rural hospital about 20 minutes away from us. My OB is prepared to deliver me and I really love her, but the hospital staff isn't trained in palliative care and would need some training, which I'm told they will get for our situation. I'm just not sure if I want my delivery to be the guinea pig for their training.. if that makes sense? My high risk OB today said that even the greatest nurse who hasn't dealt with anencephaly before could get squeamish in the moment if they're not properly trained. SO... we have the option to deliver in the city - an hour and a half away - where my high risk OB is located (and the whole palliative care team that I mentioned prior - ya know, the conference room?) They have awesome resources and have delivered many anencephalic babies... but IF we get this home, it's an hour and a half away in the OPPOSITE direction of the city (making the city a 3 hour drive.) This new home is closer to a bigger city than we currently are by, that also has hospitals close by, but at this moment, I am unsure of their resources/palliative care options. My social worker is going to try and get some contacts for me over the next few days so I can reach out and see if they have anything great. So. basically I have to research three to four different hospitals and see which one I think will work best for us.. I will most likely be induced with Jensen as most anencephalic babies need that extra help with labor and delivery so if we get this house and move but still wanted to deliver in the city with the palliative care team, it would only be a 3 hour drive. 

Reading that paragraph back, it's worded terribly, but I'm too lazy to figure out how to better explain our situation. If you looked at a map and had a red dot in the middle, that's where we currently live with a hospital 20 minutes away with less resources. An hour and a half down on that map you put a blue dot and that's where my high risk OB and palliative care team are located (the hospital that sounds like the most experienced). Now, go back to the red dot. Now go an hour and a half above from the red dot and put a yellow dot. That's where we are hoping to move. About 20 minutes away from the yellow dot they have 2 hospitals that may have decent/good resources - or not so great. Did that help? Guess I'm not that lazy after all. 

Anywho. Lots to think about. Lots to process. I also need to try and get on Medicaid for pregnancy.. and WIC for our kids. We honestly are going to need the financial help if we get this home while also paying off medical bills this year... But trying to get through to the Medicaid people is a NIGHTMARE. You're on hold for like 4 hours before you talk to someone and then they help you for 5 minutes and then have to transfer you to another team and you're on hold again for 2 hours. It's ridiculous. I'm putting off the phone call but really need to get it done. 

"I know he's whole the way he is, but it still sucks" March 11, 2025

March 11, 2025

It's been about 2 weeks since finding out about Jensen's diagnosis. What a whirlwind. It's flown by honestly. We found out on Monday, Feb. 24th after my 20 week anatomy scan, got into maternal fetal medicine on Tuesday, Feb. 25th for my official anatomy scan to confirm his diagnosis, then Wednesday, Feb. 26th, I flew out to Idaho for a preplanned trip to visit my family. Me and the boys went for a week and kept busy with cousins and grandparents. It seemed to all workout as far as the timing as it was good for me to be in person having such deep conversations about Jensen's diagnosis with my family. But I won't lie, it made for an emotionally exhausting week. My body seemed to be grieving faster than I was processing as I would wake up around 5:30am with my heart racing, stomach ache brewing, and tears ready to be released. These symptoms slowly disappeared near the end of our time in Idaho. While it was hard to have these conversations, it's helped me cope a bit. I found the hardest thing about being in Idaho was the realization that the next time I would most likely see the people I love would be at my son's funeral...

Today, March 11th, a perinatal nurse and social worker from a hospital called me and talked through everything. It was a good hour and a half phone call, but I noticed mentally I was drained afterwards. We talked all things from how to chat with my 3 and 2 year old about their baby brother's death to Jensen's birth plan and how to help engorged breasts once my milk came in with no baby to relieve them... 

In the 2 weeks that we've had this diagnosis, I've found the most uncomfortable thing has been people looking at me like I'm a wounded puppy instead of just talking to me about Jensen. I understand these people are hurting for me and care and it's well intended, but being on this side of something this traumatic, I now understand that it doesn't help. I wish people would just talk to me about it. If I'm not in the mood, I'll say it. Losing my third son to Anencephaly is my new reality. Something I'm facing everyday. I'd much prefer we just talk about it instead of you just avoiding the elephant in the room. I can also recognize that I was probably that person that avoided the elephant in the room many a times. I was the person who looked sadly on another in their trauma instead of asking kind and caring questions and sitting in their hurt with them. Of course, my feelings towards their hurt were well intended and I'm sure I'll do it in the future, but I'm learning and hope to be better...

I've found that I'm getting triggered without even comprehending what's triggering. I hear the word "brain" and feel weird. I see pictures of cute babies and I notice how cute their round head is. I see influencers posting what they wore/ate in a day 15 weeks pregnant. I see a friend sharing pictures of their cute newborn and I just close out of social media. I don't feel anger or jealous. It's just hard. I'm not sure if this is normal, maybe the anger and jealousy will come, but for now, it's almost like subconsciously I'm not allowing myself to even go there. I know the thoughts it will cause, I know the feelings it will bring. I don't want to sit in a "poor me" place wishing for Jensen to be made whole. I know his diagnosis is not changing. I know he's whole the way he is, but it still sucks. I don't want to allow the anger or jealousy to creep in. So maybe if I just don't look at these things, it won't...

I've connected with a few people who have had children born with fatal diagnosis similar to Jensen's. Those conversations have been so nice as these people can understand almost exactly where I'm at and what I'm feeling. They've also been tender as I've started grasping that the hard conversations about Jensen's life will never go away. For some reason, I thought they would subside once I no longer had a huge belly and waddled everywhere. While people can easily look at me and assume I'm preparing to bring a beautiful new baby to our home, instead, I'm calling mortuaries and planning a funeral...

Life will never be the same... and today, while I've looked okay on the outside, I've felt completely numb on the inside. 

I'm aching to just bring my beautiful baby boy home. 

I'm aching to put up his bassinet beside my bed and get all his cute newborn clothes washed and ready for him. 

I'm aching as I'm teaching my 2 toddlers about their baby brother named Jensen in moms belly and hearing them say his name and talk about how they also have a baby Jensen in their bellies. 

How did this happen? 

Jensen Wilkins February 26, 2025

February 26, 2025

Jensen Wilkins💙

We have only known about Jensen's diagnosis for a short 48 hours. Wow. So many emotions in such a short amount of time. My body seems to be recognizing the grief faster than my brain is processing it. Random heart racing moments, random nausea moments, random stomach issues. Our bodies are incredible, but also, it sucks to wake up with so much anxiety. Mornings seem to be the most tender for me. 

Never ever have I been a person to commit to a name for my kid before actually seeing them. With Remi, we had 3 names that we had our nurses and doctors vote on haha Remington was the least voted for but it felt right. It is the right name for him. Freeman. Ha. My whole pregnancy I was in love with the name "Beckett" and I was so excited for it. Then he came out and I looked at him and knew Beckett wasn't his name. We had a few other options for him, but Caiden and I couldn't quite agree on them. So how did Freeman get his name you ask? *Caiden cuts the cord* OB: "Well, You're a free man" *Caiden: 👀" and yeah. That's how he got his name. Again, it is the right name for him haha it's so random but one of our favorite stories. 

Let's set the scene before I go into how we decided on Jensen at 20 weeks pregnant. We found out we were pregnant the night of the 2024 election. We were excited and shocked and also I felt a little dread having a third child when I felt all consumed by my 2 toddlers already. But, of course, the excitement was at the top of the emotions. I finally got in to see our OB and have our first ultrasound around 9 weeks and it was good. Shortly after I started having random thoughts about miscarriage. I chalked it up to hearing stories of loved ones and just pregnancy thoughts. These thoughts just kept coming and I finally sat down with Caiden and told him that these thoughts were there and I verbally said, "I'm not saying this will happen, but if I miscarry, God has prepared me." I am SO grateful I verbalized these vulnerable feelings. Again, these thoughts didn't consume me. They honestly didn't give me anxiety. They were just random thoughts. I shared these thoughts with actually a couple other people, but again, we all assume everything will go smoothly so you just dismiss these.

Fast forward to the weekend before my anatomy scan. I started to have some bleeding. It wasn't enough to make me circle down the drain in anxiety but I definitely was on edge. I decided to take it easy that weekend. Lying down seemed to slow the flow so that's what I did. As I was home alone while everyone was at church, I was lying in bed watching reels and came across a sad story of a mother who passed away from cancer leaving behind her 5 year old son and husband. As I learned more about their story I became weepy that soon became full blown sobbing. I had the distinct thought, "Aubrey. This is sad but I'm not THIS sad about it." I was caught off guard by my own meltdown. I sat up in bed and another distinct thought came, "I'm going to lose the baby." Immediately upon this fleeting thought my chest felt half peace, half numbness. The tears slowed down and I got up out of bed, moved to the couch to kinda give myself a reset. I noted that if I miscarry, God has been preparing me, but again, I mostly chalked it up to random pregnancy thoughts and concerns and moved on. Little did I know what the next morning had in store for me. 

After finding out about Jensen's diagnosis and learning that I was indeed going to lose our baby at some point in time, it's still traumatizing and difficult, but I find peace in knowing that God so explicitly prepared me. While I feel extremely unprepared for the future, at the same time, I feel prepared. It's weird. 

During my first trimester, I threw around the name Jensen for a boy. I had a few options if we so happened to have a girl, but only really liked Jensen at the time. After our anatomy scan and before the phone call that flipped our world upside down, we chatted about names and again, I brought up Jensen. I went through my "NAMES" list on my phone that I've had since high school and went through all the boy names. My newest addition being Jensen. As we drove home, Caiden asked me, "Does this one feel different?" I hesitated but eventually said, "Yes, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is." 20 minutes later we got the first news of his diagnosis. Caiden shared with me then that he asked me that because he felt like we just weren't going to meet this baby boy of ours. 

As we laid in our bed an hour after the phone call preparing to call my parents, I felt like I needed to look up Jensen's name and what it means. My phone immediately pulled up "God is Gracious." While this feels the furthest thing from a gracious act from God, I couldn't help but feel so much love from Him because he prepared me in a way that I immediately recognized. What a blessing. Soon after, we decided that his name would be Jensen.

While it feels foreign to have a name to my baby that I've never seen before, it's felt right. He needs a name while we have him, and him being in my belly might be the only time we have with him so Jensen it is. 

-Aubrey

"...it's a fatal diagnosis. I'm so sorry" February 26, 2025

 February 26, 2025

"I have some bad news... your baby has what we call Anencephaly...it's a fatal diagnosis. I'm so sorry" 

tears started streaming down my face faster than I could process finding out our 20 week ultrasound just 30 minutes prior to this phone call didn't go exactly how we thought. But! Hindsight is 20/20 and it makes sense that her computer wasn't recognizing his head, how she kept saying because of his position she couldn't get a good profile/spine/head pictures, and that an appointment that usually takes 45 minutes took us 20 minutes. The poor ultrasound tech. She knew and couldn't tell us. She put on a brave face and kept us excited and completely unaware that our baby was missing most of his brain tissue and skull. 

Oh how grateful I am for Mike Gilbert, the head of ultrasound and also a family friend, who took it upon himself to deliver this intense news. As we ourselves tried to process this news, we also were telling our parents amidst the high emotions, all while trying to prepare to take my oldest son, Remington, to his first cardiology appointment. Yeah, stacked those on the same day since Caiden had the day off.. it was a lot. Luckily, Remi's heart murmur is innocent and he will grow out of it. Some comforting news in our day. Oh, did I forget to mention on our way to Remi's appointment our car randomly died at an intersection? Ha. I guess that saying "when it rains, it pours" could be appropriate here. But honestly, the car was the least of my worries and I sat in the front seat in my stalled car waiting for the tow truck laughing about it while eating McDonalds. 

The next 24 hours were a whirlwind. With an upcoming trip to see my family, my OB was able to get me into Maternal Fetal Medicine (the high risk OB), the next day. So the next 24 hours were spent researching and researching this big scary word "Anencephaly" that has never been part of my vocabulary.

So let's chat about it, shall we? 

"Anencephaly (A-nuhn-seh-fuh-lee): A baby born with an underdeveloped brain and an incomplete skull

Symptoms: Absence of the cerebrum and cerebellum

Prognosis: Death typically occurs within hours to days after birth" - Google

Heavy. Really heavy. Then you start googling the stats and it feels even heavier.

Was I going to miscarry? The research pointed to most likely not making it to 37 weeks.

If I do miscarry, what will that look like? Will it be like a first trimester miscarriage, where it's like you're having a heavy menstrual cycle while passing baby tissue? Will it mean surgery? Will it mean going to labor and delivery and actually delivering our son? All heavy options. 

I arrived at my second anatomy scan just 24 hours after my first, and they didn't hold back. The ultrasound tech printed about a million pictures of my 3rd son and while we never once mentioned his diagnosis, I could clearly see his deformity. After all the pictures, I had a telehealth appointment with my high risk OB, Dr Edwards, who was tender and knowledgeable about our situation. I found comfort in finally receiving answers. We didn't talk about the termination option as that wasn't an option for me. So we focused our conversation on carrying our little boy as long as he would let us, which she comforted me and said there is a high chance we could carry to full term. Of course, I could miscarry earlier, but at this stage in pregnancy that would look like a labor and delivery scenario no matter what. Our little boy could be stillborn or have a few minutes to hours to days of life in him. We are still anxiously waiting for that part of the story. 

How did this happen? Was it my fault? I wasn't the best at being consistent with my prenatal.. the guilt set in.. maybe I could have prevented this.. It's still something I think about. Again, heavy. 

Dr. Edwards explained with anencephalic babies, they check for other markers like down syndrome, Trisomy 13 and 18 etc. The reason they check for these things, is because if your baby shows signs of these other conditions on top of anencephaly, then it could be a genetic mutation to be looked into. But since our boy didn't have any other markers, she felt comfortable saying that this was an embryo mutation. She stated that for the general population you have a 1% chance of having a baby with a neural tube defect. For those moms in that 1%, that's me, our percentage increases to 3% for future pregnancies. This means that us 1% mommies are now on a prescription dose of folic acid for basically our child bearing years. The normal dose of folic acid in a typical prenatal is 4 micrograms. When you're in the 1% club (can I say that? Is that okay?) your dose of folic acid jumps to 4 milligrams. Honestly, I have no idea how big of a jump that is, but Dr. Edwards says it's a prescription and people will most likely look at me like I'm crazy for taking that much folic acid. So anyway. Here we are. 

I found this on the internet regarding Microgram vs. Milligram. I didn't heavily research this cause I honestly don't care too much but just for reference: 

Milligram: One milligram is one thousandth of a gram and one thousand micrograms.
Microgram: One microgram is one millionth of a gram and one thousandth of a milligram.

For now, our sweet perfect boy is growing basically on schedule (besides, of course, his head). He is active. Very active. Perceptions change when you're throwing death into the mix, so instead of excitement for the typical "getting this baby out of me" due to discomfort, I'm hoping to keep him as long as he will let me. I'm hoping we get to have at least a few minutes of life with him come July. But I also find peace that he's made it this long. We'll see. 

-Aubrey