On September 21st I left home for my weekly doctor's appointment. I was planning to be gone for a few hours. Eighteen days have ticked by and now I'm finally returning home!!!
OH HAPPY DAY!
The on-call doctors made rounds this morning and informed me that all is well enough for me to be discharged this afternoon. I am so so so so thrilled to be getting out of this place!
There was some confusion as to whether or not I would require an ultrasound today before they would clear me for discharge, I was getting conflicting information from different people. But as of right now I am told that I will not have an ultrasound today, instead I will come back on Tuesday to see Dr. Mann (as an outpatient this time!), and resume my weekly ultrasounds then. I also have to schedule an appointment with Dr. Garcia for the end of next week. So apparently it looks like my doctors visits have now escalated from once weekly to twice weekly. I also need to try and get rescheduled for Dr. Duncan, the hematologist, who I was supposed to see the day I was admitted here. Not sure if I will have to repeat my bloodwork first before I schedule that, so that is something I'll have to get ironed out but more than likely that will mean two trips to Emory instead of one. But seriously, who cares? I would drive to Kentucky and back at this point in order to get a break from this hospital.
My nurses are busy trying to get everything set up for my transition home. They've been on the phone with Alere, the home care company, making sure my home nurses are prepared for my return. We have to get my terbutaline pump switched over today before I can leave -- right now I'm using a hospital-owned pump which has to be removed and replaced by the home pump I was using before I got here. Ironically the two pumps are identical ... the exact same model and everything ... just that one is hospital property and one is Alere property that has been temporarily rented to me. I am told they cost about $5,000 a piece so it's super important that we don't get them mixed up or else I will be receiving a giant bill! Right now I've actually got two Alere pumps at my house, in addition to the third hospital-owned pump in my leg, which has made me so nervous b/c I was terrified that James would misplace the box at home or Jamin would get into it and decide to "hide" them away in a random drawer somewhere like he does with everything else he discovers. Between the two home pumps and the toco monitor I have about $13,000 worth of Alere's equipment in my bedroom so it's a bit nervewracking to be responsible for that stuff!
We're working on getting my medications situated so that I won't miss any doses during the transition from hospital to home. Right now the plan is for James to come up around 3:00 this afternoon with my home pump, at which time we'll get the infusion site changed and discharge paperwork completed and then I should be FREE! Well ......... free to go straight home and lay still 24/7 in my bed ......... but still a major improvement over my current living conditions so I'll take it. I am hoping if all goes smoothly I should be home around 5:00 or so. Sara is making us a big dinner so we can celebrate with a home-cooked meal. It will be so nice to be done with hospital food for a little while! And I seriously CAN NOT WAIT to see the faces of my little ones when their Mommy finally walks in the door, that will be quite a reward.
Last night before bed I was laying here thinking, "wouldn't it be great if this is the last time I have to sleep in this hospital pregnant? And the next time I'm here is when the baby is born?" But then instantly that thought made me paranoid because it would, of course, only be great if the baby is close to full-term next time I come back! If I come back in two or three weeks then of course I want to still be pregnant. Ughh, if only my brain had an off switch. Or at least a pause button. I need a break from myself.
I had a meeting last night with one of the NICU nurses. She came down to the HRP floor to chat with some of the bedrest patients, and spent almost an hour in my room. Basically the idea is that she would answer our questions and give us some basic information so that in the event that we eventually need her services we will be a little less confused and scared. Being the type of person that thrives on information, I actually found this to be really helpful because I do feel more prepared now after talking with her. She actually offered to put me in a wheelchair and give me a "tour" of the NICU, which I declined, because that felt a little too scary. I don't want to actually see it unless I have to. But talking about it was good. She gave me a lot of information about how the NICU works, how it's organized, and what I could expect.
The policy here is that any baby born prior to 35 weeks gestation is automatically admitted to the NICU, regardless of their weight or condition at the time of birth. So even if we make it to Dr. Mann's current goal of 34 weeks, we would still have to do a NICU stay for at least 1-2 weeks. I am grateful to know this ahead of time, because I can get mentally prepared now. In my mind, I can already "plan" for it at least in theory, and then if it happens I won't have to panic as badly. And of course, if it doesn't happen, then it will just be a giant wonderful bonus! When you have a Kristi-brain you have to do some mental tricks sometimes and planning for worst-case-scanario is one trick I've found that actually seems to help reduce my stress a little bit.
A million thank-you's to everyone who has prayed for us, sent notes of support, visited, sent food, babysat, and loved my family over the last several weeks. We are so incredibly grateful for your outpouring of generosity. Please please please continue to pray for us! We are 25weeks 2 days gestation today, so we are certainly not out of the danger zone yet and we have a long road ahead.
Showing posts with label fears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fears. Show all posts
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Coming Unglued.
Today marks 17 days in the hospital, and my extended stay here is really starting to take its toll. I’m not sure how to accurately describe it, other than to say I am utterly and completely exhausted in every way imaginable.
My physical condition has really deteriorated over the last 3-4 days. The baby is fine, and my cervix seems to be holding this week so I am celebrating those accomplishments, as they are really the two most important things at this point. Aside from those positives, though I am really struggling physically. I am pitifully weak …. the “I-can’t-possibly-walk-myself-to-the-bathroom” kind of weak. Upon standing, my legs immediately begin to burn and it takes incredible effort to move them. Taking ten steps feels like the equivalent to running a 5K. I can no longer stand up for the short time it takes me to brush my teeth. Instead I now have to sit down while I brush because I literally can’t hold myself up for 60 seconds. Even laying still in bed feels exhausting, I have this tingling all over and a heaviness in my chest that makes breathing feel like a chore. I ache everywhere. I just don’t feel normal in any way.
This has been the subject of several discussions of course, first with a few nurses and then with my doctors. Everyone seems to agree that what I‘m feeling is a result of “de-conditioning”, or my body just sort of shutting down due to not moving for such a long period of time. I’ve been in bed for 7 weeks now, though the last 2 here at the hospital have been way more extreme that what I did at home, as I am literally lying still for all but maybe 15-20 minutes a day. I have leg exercises, which the physical therapist taught me the first week here, that I am doing every day in bed. Though I am told the exercises will not really improve my condition, I still do them because I’m hopeful they will slow down further deterioration.
I have a hard time believing that I could feel this drastically horrible just because of “de-conditioning” …. this is not my first rodeo and I’ve done many long weeks of bedrest before and never felt this bad. But there doesn’t seem to be any other obvious reason … my blood pressure is staying up around “normal”; my hemoglobin and hematacrit are low but not insanely dangerously low. I’ve decided that perhaps it’s simply because my bedrest has never been this drastic before now … in the past I’ve always managed to get up for a little bit each day, whether it was throwing a load of laundry in the washer or walking downstairs for dinner. Now I am laying constantly, 99.9% of the day and I suppose that must be what’s making the difference in the way my body has responded.
Emotionally I am finding myself in similar territory. I mostly swing back and forth between moments of intense frustration, sadness, and overwhelming anxiety. I am annoyed and angry at my body, my circumstances, my confinement, and my inability to do even simple things by myself. I am homesick and sad because I miss my kids, my husband, and my old life. And I’m nearly paralyzed with worry and fear because I can’t quite seem to shake the feeling that something awful is about to happen.
Fighting the fear has become a daily battle. I mostly try to not think about the possibilities, and often I’m successful with that. But there are moments when it catches up with me and the anxiety is too strong to ignore. I am terrified at the thought of having a micro-preemie, or worse -- another stillbirth, and I find myself over-analyzing every bump, gurgle, and twinge I experience … Is my water breaking? Am I bleeding? How many contractions have I had this hour? Why isn’t the baby moving? It’s like waiting for the sky to fall. And I realize that, here I am again, now 25+ weeks into the pregnancy and I haven’t allowed myself to bond with this baby and I refuse to even give him a name for fear of “jinxing” it. As if that makes one bit of sense.
I also have equal amounts of worry for my family … this whole experience has been so hard for James and Gracie and Jamin. What condition will my family be in when this is all over? Will my kids be scarred and traumatized because their mother was absent for so long? Will my husband survive the stress of being thrown into single parenthood? Will Gracie be able to focus in school? Will Jamin start acting out in resentment? Already I can see the little cracks forming but I feel helpless to stop them. My kids appear to be struggling a little more this week … Gracie with some attention-seeking kinds of behaviors and Jamin melting down whenever he is separated from his dad and throwing frequent temper tantrums. And then there’s James … he is so strong and he puts on a brave face, but I can see in his eyes that he’s struggling and it hurts me.
I am desperate to go home and I’m hoping that perhaps once I get there some of my physical and emotional conflicts will begin to lessen. I had my 18th ultrasound two days ago and Dr. Mann was pleased … my cervix has lengthened back up to 2.5cm. The polyhydramnios has improved a teeny tiny bit. The placenta has not moved since last week, but my docs are now saying they could attempt a vaginal delivery based on it’s current location.
After the ultrasound, Dr. Mann said she was initially planning to keep me here until I hit 28 weeks, but if I wanted to “try” going home for a bit she would allow it. So we are cautiously planning for discharge sometime tomorrow (!!!!!) as long as my symptoms stay stable. I CAN NOT WAIT. I am trying not to let myself get too excited, in case it doesn’t happen, but that’s really hard to do of course. She warned me that there is a high likelihood I will end up back in the hospital again, and seemed fairly certain that we should anticipate that happening sometime in the next few weeks. From what they’re telling me, most likely I will have to return sometime soon for a magnesium sulfate wash. The possibility of needing this is highly distressing at the moment because I’m told the side effects are awful. More on this later. For now I’m pulling the denial card and it’s working quite well so I’m not ready to give that up yet!
Pray for us.
My physical condition has really deteriorated over the last 3-4 days. The baby is fine, and my cervix seems to be holding this week so I am celebrating those accomplishments, as they are really the two most important things at this point. Aside from those positives, though I am really struggling physically. I am pitifully weak …. the “I-can’t-possibly-walk-myself-to-the-bathroom” kind of weak. Upon standing, my legs immediately begin to burn and it takes incredible effort to move them. Taking ten steps feels like the equivalent to running a 5K. I can no longer stand up for the short time it takes me to brush my teeth. Instead I now have to sit down while I brush because I literally can’t hold myself up for 60 seconds. Even laying still in bed feels exhausting, I have this tingling all over and a heaviness in my chest that makes breathing feel like a chore. I ache everywhere. I just don’t feel normal in any way.
This has been the subject of several discussions of course, first with a few nurses and then with my doctors. Everyone seems to agree that what I‘m feeling is a result of “de-conditioning”, or my body just sort of shutting down due to not moving for such a long period of time. I’ve been in bed for 7 weeks now, though the last 2 here at the hospital have been way more extreme that what I did at home, as I am literally lying still for all but maybe 15-20 minutes a day. I have leg exercises, which the physical therapist taught me the first week here, that I am doing every day in bed. Though I am told the exercises will not really improve my condition, I still do them because I’m hopeful they will slow down further deterioration.
I have a hard time believing that I could feel this drastically horrible just because of “de-conditioning” …. this is not my first rodeo and I’ve done many long weeks of bedrest before and never felt this bad. But there doesn’t seem to be any other obvious reason … my blood pressure is staying up around “normal”; my hemoglobin and hematacrit are low but not insanely dangerously low. I’ve decided that perhaps it’s simply because my bedrest has never been this drastic before now … in the past I’ve always managed to get up for a little bit each day, whether it was throwing a load of laundry in the washer or walking downstairs for dinner. Now I am laying constantly, 99.9% of the day and I suppose that must be what’s making the difference in the way my body has responded.
Emotionally I am finding myself in similar territory. I mostly swing back and forth between moments of intense frustration, sadness, and overwhelming anxiety. I am annoyed and angry at my body, my circumstances, my confinement, and my inability to do even simple things by myself. I am homesick and sad because I miss my kids, my husband, and my old life. And I’m nearly paralyzed with worry and fear because I can’t quite seem to shake the feeling that something awful is about to happen.
Fighting the fear has become a daily battle. I mostly try to not think about the possibilities, and often I’m successful with that. But there are moments when it catches up with me and the anxiety is too strong to ignore. I am terrified at the thought of having a micro-preemie, or worse -- another stillbirth, and I find myself over-analyzing every bump, gurgle, and twinge I experience … Is my water breaking? Am I bleeding? How many contractions have I had this hour? Why isn’t the baby moving? It’s like waiting for the sky to fall. And I realize that, here I am again, now 25+ weeks into the pregnancy and I haven’t allowed myself to bond with this baby and I refuse to even give him a name for fear of “jinxing” it. As if that makes one bit of sense.
I also have equal amounts of worry for my family … this whole experience has been so hard for James and Gracie and Jamin. What condition will my family be in when this is all over? Will my kids be scarred and traumatized because their mother was absent for so long? Will my husband survive the stress of being thrown into single parenthood? Will Gracie be able to focus in school? Will Jamin start acting out in resentment? Already I can see the little cracks forming but I feel helpless to stop them. My kids appear to be struggling a little more this week … Gracie with some attention-seeking kinds of behaviors and Jamin melting down whenever he is separated from his dad and throwing frequent temper tantrums. And then there’s James … he is so strong and he puts on a brave face, but I can see in his eyes that he’s struggling and it hurts me.
I am desperate to go home and I’m hoping that perhaps once I get there some of my physical and emotional conflicts will begin to lessen. I had my 18th ultrasound two days ago and Dr. Mann was pleased … my cervix has lengthened back up to 2.5cm. The polyhydramnios has improved a teeny tiny bit. The placenta has not moved since last week, but my docs are now saying they could attempt a vaginal delivery based on it’s current location.
After the ultrasound, Dr. Mann said she was initially planning to keep me here until I hit 28 weeks, but if I wanted to “try” going home for a bit she would allow it. So we are cautiously planning for discharge sometime tomorrow (!!!!!) as long as my symptoms stay stable. I CAN NOT WAIT. I am trying not to let myself get too excited, in case it doesn’t happen, but that’s really hard to do of course. She warned me that there is a high likelihood I will end up back in the hospital again, and seemed fairly certain that we should anticipate that happening sometime in the next few weeks. From what they’re telling me, most likely I will have to return sometime soon for a magnesium sulfate wash. The possibility of needing this is highly distressing at the moment because I’m told the side effects are awful. More on this later. For now I’m pulling the denial card and it’s working quite well so I’m not ready to give that up yet!
Pray for us.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
21 Weeks and still standing! Well .... mostly laying.
Oh gosh .... where to start??? There is so much swirling in my head right now, I've got a major case of Kristi-brain at the moment. Worry overload.
First a bit of good news: I saw Dr. Mann last week for my weekly ultrasound (Lucky #13!!!) and we finally saw something to be happy about. The Polyhydramios is gone. Yep, that's right: GONE. Praise the Lord! The second round of Indocin did it's job, and my fluid is now measuring 16cm, which is considered perfectly normal. It's been so long since I've had anything "normal", I was beginning to forget what that feels like. But now I remember ...... ahhhh yes it feels fabulous.
My cervical measurement was stable, in fact it actually increased ever so slightly to 3.1 cm, so that was also good news! Our other big concern, the placenta previa, has not moved. It's location remains unchanged (boo). Before now, Dr. Mann kept expressing confidence that it would eventually move, though that was weeks and weeks ago. So I asked her, "Are you still feeling confident that this thing is gonna move?" .... to which she got very quiet and paused for an awkwardly long time, and then responded "Well I really hope it's gonna move!"
Ummm, yeah. I really HOPE it's gonna move too, obviously! But you conveniently didn't answer my question.
A week has passed since that conversation, and so as you can imagine that's more than enough time for my brain to kick it up a notch in the worry department. This stupid previa has scared the crap outta me since the day we found it. When you combine a previa with blood thinners and preterm labor ..... the possibilities are downright terrifying! The potential for disaster is way too high for my liking.
So today, at my OB appointment with Dr. Garcia, I had to pick his brain for a bit. He is always such a straight-shooter with me, he doesn't sugar-coat things. I ask him a detailed question, and he gives me a very detailed answer. 100% of the time. It is the reason why I trust him so completely. So many times before, with other doctors, I felt like I had to ask the same question 4 different ways before I was given a semi-complete answer. But Dr. Garcia does not beat around the bush, he doesn't leave me wondering, and I absolutely adore him for it.
So I asked him today .... at what point will we know whether or not this previa is going to move?? He told me 28 weeks. He said the next 2+ ultrasounds I have with Dr. Mann should be very revealing ... if the thing is gonna move we should start seeing some form of slow migration happening in the next 4-6 weeks. If we get to week 28 and it's still a complete previa, we can be pretty certain that we're stuck with it and we will have to develop a plan for how to deal.
So of course I had to ask .... in the event we're stuck with it, what will our plan be? He explained that he would have to consult with Dr. Mann and they would have to get creative and, as he said, "put our thinking caps on". But as of today, his recommendation would be:
1. Switch immediately from Lovenox over to traditional heparin (these are cousins; Lovenox is a form of heparin). The reason for the switch is to increase your chances of not having blood thinners in your system at the time of delivery. A single shot of Lovenox stays in your system for 24 hours. And once it's in, there is no way to reverse it. So if you go into labor, or need to do an emergency delivery, within 24hrs of your last shot ...... you're in trouble. Traditional heparin, however, stays in your system for 12 hrs (which means you need two shots a day instead of just one). But the advantage is that if an emergency delivery is needed, or you spontaneously go into labor, you've just bought yourself 12hrs. Also, the effects of heparin can be reversed, with another drug (can't think of the name), which can be given as a shot at the hospital. This shot can fully reverse the effects of the heparin within a few hours, at which point it is safe to deliver.
2. Immediate hospitalization if I have any bleeding at all from the previa. If the bleeding gets "bad" (exactly how much is considered "bad" I have to wonder???) ... then he will deliver via C-Section regardless of gestational age. Assuming we have no bleeding, and we can get a few weeks further, then ....
3. Administer betamethasone (steriod) injections around week 33. This is a series of 2 shots, given 24hrs apart, which boost the baby's lung maturity. Because lungs are the very last thing to develop in the unborn baby, premature delivery means that major lung problems are frequent and dangerous. I've had these shots with both Jamin and Gracie, and I firmly know they work! They also hurt like a $%&@!!!!! but that's beside the point :)
4. Perform an amniocentesis at week 34. This will assess the baby's level of lung maturity. I had this with Jamin as well. There is some particular type of protein that they look for, it's presence indicates the lungs are mature enough and it is safe to deliver. Assuming all looks well, then ....
5. Deliver via C-Section at week 34.
I'm obviously freaked out that the doctor's best case scenario assessment with a previa involves delivery 6wks early. But I know that he would never ever in a million years recommend that unless it was the absolute best alternative for the baby. And there are a lot of "if's" to get to that point so there are many factors playing into this scenario which could change. So to a small extent it's like trying to predict the unpredictable. At the same time, though, it's the unpredictable part that has me so worried. There are so many things that could happen which would force a delivery even earlier than week 34.
My biggest fear at this point, which I shared with Dr. Garcia, is that I will have further cervical change, which will cause the previa to start bleeding, and since I'm on blood-thinners it will be really bad .... they will be forced to deliver, and we'll end up with a very very very premature baby. Nodding his head, his response was "that could very well happen, and that is my biggest fear too. But we are already doing everything humanly possible to prevent that from happening. At this point all we can do is react quickly if/when something happens".
He did say that sometimes cervical thinning by itself won't be enough to cause bleeding, it depends on how quickly the change is taking place. He said cervical dilation is more likely to cause bleeding. So I took this as a glimmer of goodness because in the past I have tended more toward very early thinning, like 20+ weeks, but then not dilated until like 30+weeks.
He stated repeatedly that the previa still has a chance of moving sometime over the next seven weeks, and twice he said "I really hope it moves". Hmm, now where have I heard that before?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Hebrews 11:6
I had two more ultrasounds this week (details to come in a later post, promise). Baby's measurements exactly matched my LMP this time, so growth is going just perfectly and the heartbeat is strong and right where it should be! I dunno why exactly, but for some reason I was surprised by this good news. It's either my general lack of a positive attitude, or my lack of faith in God's goodness and power, or maybe it's a combination of both. But during the week I spend waiting in between doctor's appointments I find myself convinced that the pregnancy is doomed and I begin telling myself not to get too attached. For my last two OB appointments, in fact, I've shown up there fully expecting to hear some kind of tragically terrible news. I mentally prepare myself for it days before I get there. And then we do an ultrasound and I lay there like a dumbfounded fool because all I keep getting is perfectly fabulous good news. So I leave the office feeling fantastic and excited, and roughly 2-3 days later the doom and gloom sets in and the process repeats itself.
It is a constant mental battle -- and a spiritual battle, I'm embarrassed to acknowledge -- and I'm trying really hard to fight harder and stay focused and not allow myself to fall into that pitfall each week. At church this past weekend my pastor spoke about how fear will give us memory loss ...... we get so scared that we forget the miracles God has already done for us in the past, and instead we focus only on the scary circumstances we're in at the present and we begin to think surely we're doomed.
Well as you can imagine that message certainly hit me like a ton of bricks.
He might as well have cued a big spotlight right onto my chair and waived to me from the pulpit. Hello! Kristi! God is speaking to you! Are you listening? DUH. I mean, could I possibly be a more ungrateful, unfaithful doubter? Look what God has already done for me! Look at the miracles He has performed! They are all right here recorded in this very blog, should I need a reminder. Not to mention the fact that there is living proof of His miraculous power, giggling and toddling around my house with a big baldy head and chunky little legs, and I stare at him all day long ... how could I possibly forget?? How could I have the audacity to doubt? Is my faith so weak and my trust so frail as to think God isn't capable of doing the EXACT SAME THING He's already done before?
Well I'm determined to fight the fears and the unbelief, and I know the only way to do that is to get my head in the Word and keep it there each and every day. But I need help, friends, I need accountabilty. So if you are my brother or sister in Christ I'm asking you first to pray for me and second to call me out when you see me. Hold my feet to the fire! Ask me how I'm doing and if I'm standing firm. I know myself well enough to know this is a serious area of weakness for me and I also know that without faith it is impossible to please God, so this is certainly not something I'm willing to ignore any longer.
Also feel free to smack me in the head every once in a while, it's for my own good so I'm giving you permission. I promise not to freak out. It will be like that V8 commercial ....
"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him."
Hebrews 11:6
It is a constant mental battle -- and a spiritual battle, I'm embarrassed to acknowledge -- and I'm trying really hard to fight harder and stay focused and not allow myself to fall into that pitfall each week. At church this past weekend my pastor spoke about how fear will give us memory loss ...... we get so scared that we forget the miracles God has already done for us in the past, and instead we focus only on the scary circumstances we're in at the present and we begin to think surely we're doomed.
Well as you can imagine that message certainly hit me like a ton of bricks.
He might as well have cued a big spotlight right onto my chair and waived to me from the pulpit. Hello! Kristi! God is speaking to you! Are you listening? DUH. I mean, could I possibly be a more ungrateful, unfaithful doubter? Look what God has already done for me! Look at the miracles He has performed! They are all right here recorded in this very blog, should I need a reminder. Not to mention the fact that there is living proof of His miraculous power, giggling and toddling around my house with a big baldy head and chunky little legs, and I stare at him all day long ... how could I possibly forget?? How could I have the audacity to doubt? Is my faith so weak and my trust so frail as to think God isn't capable of doing the EXACT SAME THING He's already done before?
Well I'm determined to fight the fears and the unbelief, and I know the only way to do that is to get my head in the Word and keep it there each and every day. But I need help, friends, I need accountabilty. So if you are my brother or sister in Christ I'm asking you first to pray for me and second to call me out when you see me. Hold my feet to the fire! Ask me how I'm doing and if I'm standing firm. I know myself well enough to know this is a serious area of weakness for me and I also know that without faith it is impossible to please God, so this is certainly not something I'm willing to ignore any longer.
Also feel free to smack me in the head every once in a while, it's for my own good so I'm giving you permission. I promise not to freak out. It will be like that V8 commercial ....
"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him."
Hebrews 11:6
Sunday, May 23, 2010
God has a sense of humor!
Sooooo, after a year's absence, I'm back to blogging. Of course that can only mean one thing:
I AM PREGNANT. AGAIN.
Yep, go ahead and scrape your jaw up off the floor. Don't feel bad, I had that very same expression on my face for a solid week. No I'm not offended. I promise, whatever you're thinking, I've already thought it ten times over.
Everyone seems perplexed, and rightly so .... so to clear up a few common questions let's just get a few of the nitty-gritty basics out of the way:
1. No, we were not trying. In fact, we were actually "trying" to schedule a vasectomy, having just gotten the referral 4 days before discovering the surprise.
2. No, I had no clue. No symptoms, no "little feeling", nothing. Not even remotely on my radar. I had a period, which started ... and then abruptly stopped .... and never came back. After a few days James convinced me to use an old test I had shoved in the back of the linen closet just to put my mind at ease so we could go out and enjoy our date night without any worries. Yeah that didn't quite go like we planned.
3. Yes there were lots of tears. And a few words I'm now embarrassed to admit I said. I actually collapsed in a heap and finally laid on the floor of my bathroom closet sobbing. No they were not happy tears. Let's just say it was not my proudest moment. Among my immediate concerns, were "How in the world are we gonna survive this again?"; "Please don't make me tell my Mommy!"; and "Promise me that no matter what happens I will never have to drive a mini-van!"
4. Yes I've stopped freaking out. And yes, I'm now equal parts excited and terrified. But there's lots of both.
The next question everyone keeps asking me is ... "Scared, but WHY???" Assuming that these folks either have major short-term memory loss or just flat don't get it, I'll clarify. Forget the fact that spilling the beans to my mother felt like the emotional equivalent of being 15 yrs old and telling her I'm pregnant .... I guess I could best describe it this way:
95% of my fear is surviving another pregnancy: The wild ride of ups and downs ... the stress and worry at every single doctor visit, the cervical measurements, the hospital stays, the endless months of bedrest, the shots, the home monitoring, the burden on my husband, my kids, and our family ... watching my health deteriorate before my eyes. In all honesty I don't feel like I've recovered from the last roller-coaster ride, emotionally OR physically. And I still have the stupid bruises on my stomach to prove it.
5% of my fear comes from the thought of what will happen AFTER the pregnancy, at the end of the battle when a healthy baby is finally here, God willing ... I do worry about taking care of three, dividing my time even further, etc ... all the normal mom stuff. The two little ones will be roughly 20 months apart (again, God willing) so that of course seems like a huge challenge, but honestly there is only a very teeny tiny part of my brain that can see past the gigantic hurdle of pregnancy to even begin to worry about these things.
I think I summarized it best when I told a friend recently, I feel like I've just started climbing Mt. Everest without a single day of advance notice or preparation. The mountain that lies ahead of us is giant and rugged and I know it well. And the ugly truth is that I don't have the endurance, or the mental fortitude required to fight my way up to the top. Just the thought of it is overwhelming and exhausting and makes me want to quit. There is no way I'm gonna be able to climb that thing again.
After four straight days of crying I finally calmed down enough to open my stubborn eyes and see that God was already making arrangements and working out the vital details (like my new super-duper hemotologist Dr. Genius at Emory) .... and ever so gently He reminded me that I don't have to climb anywhere. I can just trust that God knows what He's doing and rely on Him to carry my whiny butt up.
I AM PREGNANT. AGAIN.
Yep, go ahead and scrape your jaw up off the floor. Don't feel bad, I had that very same expression on my face for a solid week. No I'm not offended. I promise, whatever you're thinking, I've already thought it ten times over.
Everyone seems perplexed, and rightly so .... so to clear up a few common questions let's just get a few of the nitty-gritty basics out of the way:
1. No, we were not trying. In fact, we were actually "trying" to schedule a vasectomy, having just gotten the referral 4 days before discovering the surprise.
2. No, I had no clue. No symptoms, no "little feeling", nothing. Not even remotely on my radar. I had a period, which started ... and then abruptly stopped .... and never came back. After a few days James convinced me to use an old test I had shoved in the back of the linen closet just to put my mind at ease so we could go out and enjoy our date night without any worries. Yeah that didn't quite go like we planned.
3. Yes there were lots of tears. And a few words I'm now embarrassed to admit I said. I actually collapsed in a heap and finally laid on the floor of my bathroom closet sobbing. No they were not happy tears. Let's just say it was not my proudest moment. Among my immediate concerns, were "How in the world are we gonna survive this again?"; "Please don't make me tell my Mommy!"; and "Promise me that no matter what happens I will never have to drive a mini-van!"
4. Yes I've stopped freaking out. And yes, I'm now equal parts excited and terrified. But there's lots of both.
The next question everyone keeps asking me is ... "Scared, but WHY???" Assuming that these folks either have major short-term memory loss or just flat don't get it, I'll clarify. Forget the fact that spilling the beans to my mother felt like the emotional equivalent of being 15 yrs old and telling her I'm pregnant .... I guess I could best describe it this way:
95% of my fear is surviving another pregnancy: The wild ride of ups and downs ... the stress and worry at every single doctor visit, the cervical measurements, the hospital stays, the endless months of bedrest, the shots, the home monitoring, the burden on my husband, my kids, and our family ... watching my health deteriorate before my eyes. In all honesty I don't feel like I've recovered from the last roller-coaster ride, emotionally OR physically. And I still have the stupid bruises on my stomach to prove it.
5% of my fear comes from the thought of what will happen AFTER the pregnancy, at the end of the battle when a healthy baby is finally here, God willing ... I do worry about taking care of three, dividing my time even further, etc ... all the normal mom stuff. The two little ones will be roughly 20 months apart (again, God willing) so that of course seems like a huge challenge, but honestly there is only a very teeny tiny part of my brain that can see past the gigantic hurdle of pregnancy to even begin to worry about these things.
I think I summarized it best when I told a friend recently, I feel like I've just started climbing Mt. Everest without a single day of advance notice or preparation. The mountain that lies ahead of us is giant and rugged and I know it well. And the ugly truth is that I don't have the endurance, or the mental fortitude required to fight my way up to the top. Just the thought of it is overwhelming and exhausting and makes me want to quit. There is no way I'm gonna be able to climb that thing again.
After four straight days of crying I finally calmed down enough to open my stubborn eyes and see that God was already making arrangements and working out the vital details (like my new super-duper hemotologist Dr. Genius at Emory) .... and ever so gently He reminded me that I don't have to climb anywhere. I can just trust that God knows what He's doing and rely on Him to carry my whiny butt up.
So that's my plan.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Countdown: T minus 18 hours
THURSDAY MORNING UPDATE:
I can't start without first thanking each of you from the bottom of my heart, for your continued prayers and encuraging words. God is doing miracles already today and there is no doubt in my mind that He is hearing each of those prayers. Please keep 'em coming!!!!
I got about 6 hours of sleep last night. That was miracle #1!! Gracie slept like a total log all night long ........... miracle #2. Mom drove me to Northside this morning while Laura stayed at the house with Gracie. We ran into some traffic but made it there in about an hour: miracle #3!
I had my 18th (and hopefully final) ultrasound, and Jamin looks fantastic: miracle #4. They estimate he weighs about 5 lbs 14oz. Then Dr. Mann came in to do the amnio, at which point I was so terrified I was trying not to shake. It went well and we survived: MIRACLE #5!!!! It hurt pretty badly, but only lasted for like 30 seconds. I kept my eyes closed, focused on holding very still, and just prayed through the whole thing. So I didn't see anything scary, but my mom reported it was not a pleasant site to observe. I was then hooked up to the NST monitor for about 20 minutes after the amnio, just to make sure the baby was doing okay after the procedure, and all looked well.
On the way home I called Laura to check on Gracie. She reported that Gracie woke up in a fantastic mood and seemed to be feeling really good, she ate a banana and some water for breakfast: MIRACLE #6!!! What a giagantic relief!
I then got a call from James telling me that WWIII was avoided and our family drama appears to have reached some peaceful resolution: MIRACLE #7!!!!
So much has turned around in the last 12 hours .... oh the Lord is at work!!
I've been resting and trying to stay off my feet as much as possible since I returned home. Laura went back to work and mom has gone home, so it's just me and Gracie for now. She is perky and energetic like her "normal" self, and has had a piece of bread and more water and a lollypop in the last hour.
Please continue to pray for us. We are expecting to get a call with amnio results sometime between maybe 4:30ish and 6:30ish tonight. At that point we will get Gracie handed over to her Grammie, and James and I will head back to the hospital for admission.
Please pray for: mature lungs, minimal confusion receiving amnio results and coordinating admission, and decent sleep for James and I tonight. Also please pray for traveling mercies for my sister, who will likely end up on a red-eye flight tonight from Colorado back to GA.
God is in control of all of these details and so much more! We are so incredibly grateful for your prayers!
I will update more tonight as things change ...........
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Don't worry ... my hissy fit has passed!
First of all, a tremendously gigantic thank you for all of your prayers. God is hearing! I am feeling much better tonight and I think I'm done with my panic. So sorry you all had to witness that, gag!
Gracie continued throwing up until about 2:00 today. Since then she has held down a popcicle, 1.5 pieces of bread, a small cup of applesauce, and about 8 ounces of water. Thank you Lord! Still no fever. Please continue to pray fervently, that she rests well tonight and has no further vomiting or fever at all tomorrow!
This evening after James finally got home I snuck out to have a pedicure. There's a little nail place about 500 yards from my neighborhood, and I was super desperate for a quiet moment away from the stress at home. Boy it did me a world of good! Having someone rub my feet for an hour made me feel like a million bucks! PLUS ....... the added bonus is that my toes are beautiful and I won't have to be embarrassed at the hospital. Well, okay, let's be realistic: LESS EMBARRASSED at the hospital, given the fact that I'll be naked from the waist down and chances are no one will be looking at my toes anyways. But I digress .........
By the time I left the nail place it was already dark. Driving home, I looked up and noticed that the moon was full and round. And it hit me like a ton of bricks: it will be a full moon this weekend when Jamin is born. This probably doesn't seem significant to you, but let me explain.
Isaac was born on a full moon, back on September 2, 2006.
Ever since that time, I see a full moon and immediately think of Isaac. I can't tell you how many nights I have spent over the last 2 1/2 years, staring at a full moon missing my little boy. For a long time the sight of it made me incredibly sad. But as time has passed, seeing a full moon now brings a smile instead of sadness. For me it feels like a connection to Isaac.
So tonight, driving home, after a marathon-stressful day ....... to glance up and see that moon was quite a moment. And knowing that Jamin will be born on Friday, when the moon is still full, that just seems so perfect to me. I feel like Isaac was sending me a little message ..... "I'm here, Mommy. I'm fine. And you guys will be fine too!"
I continued driving, my mind trailing off .... just feeling grateful for that moon and that moment. Suddenly I began hearing some words repeated over and over on the radio, which was playing quietly in the background. I turned up the volume. It was a song I'd never heard before. Repeatedly, this guy was singing:
"God will lift up your head"
"Your story soon will end in joy, end in joy, end in joy"
I have no clue who sings this, as I haven't been driving lately and therefore haven't been listening to the radio much at all. But those words stung my heart and instantly I felt an overwhelming peace hanging heavily over me. Yes, I cried a little bit. I *am* a wimp, afterall. But if you've ever been in a situation where you have clearly sensed a very close presence of the Lord, you'll understand why there were tears.
He always knows just what I need, and when. Tonight I just needed a little reminder that He is here, He is in charge, and He's got all this covered.
Gracie continued throwing up until about 2:00 today. Since then she has held down a popcicle, 1.5 pieces of bread, a small cup of applesauce, and about 8 ounces of water. Thank you Lord! Still no fever. Please continue to pray fervently, that she rests well tonight and has no further vomiting or fever at all tomorrow!
This evening after James finally got home I snuck out to have a pedicure. There's a little nail place about 500 yards from my neighborhood, and I was super desperate for a quiet moment away from the stress at home. Boy it did me a world of good! Having someone rub my feet for an hour made me feel like a million bucks! PLUS ....... the added bonus is that my toes are beautiful and I won't have to be embarrassed at the hospital. Well, okay, let's be realistic: LESS EMBARRASSED at the hospital, given the fact that I'll be naked from the waist down and chances are no one will be looking at my toes anyways. But I digress .........
By the time I left the nail place it was already dark. Driving home, I looked up and noticed that the moon was full and round. And it hit me like a ton of bricks: it will be a full moon this weekend when Jamin is born. This probably doesn't seem significant to you, but let me explain.
Isaac was born on a full moon, back on September 2, 2006.
Ever since that time, I see a full moon and immediately think of Isaac. I can't tell you how many nights I have spent over the last 2 1/2 years, staring at a full moon missing my little boy. For a long time the sight of it made me incredibly sad. But as time has passed, seeing a full moon now brings a smile instead of sadness. For me it feels like a connection to Isaac.
So tonight, driving home, after a marathon-stressful day ....... to glance up and see that moon was quite a moment. And knowing that Jamin will be born on Friday, when the moon is still full, that just seems so perfect to me. I feel like Isaac was sending me a little message ..... "I'm here, Mommy. I'm fine. And you guys will be fine too!"
I continued driving, my mind trailing off .... just feeling grateful for that moon and that moment. Suddenly I began hearing some words repeated over and over on the radio, which was playing quietly in the background. I turned up the volume. It was a song I'd never heard before. Repeatedly, this guy was singing:
"God will lift up your head"
"Your story soon will end in joy, end in joy, end in joy"
I have no clue who sings this, as I haven't been driving lately and therefore haven't been listening to the radio much at all. But those words stung my heart and instantly I felt an overwhelming peace hanging heavily over me. Yes, I cried a little bit. I *am* a wimp, afterall. But if you've ever been in a situation where you have clearly sensed a very close presence of the Lord, you'll understand why there were tears.
He always knows just what I need, and when. Tonight I just needed a little reminder that He is here, He is in charge, and He's got all this covered.
Who among the gods is like you, O LORD ?
Who is like you—
majestic in holiness,
awesome in glory,
working wonders?(Exodus 15:11)
Limping to the Finish Line
Or really, it would be more accurate to say:
DESPERATELY CLAWING OUR WAY TO THE FINISH LINE.
We now have just two days left until Jamin's arrival, and let me tell you, we are being pummeled from every angle. Please forgive me if this post comes across as super whiny. I'm trying not to whine, truly I am. But I am so overwhelmed, seriously I just need to vent for a moment.
My contractions are growing ever more frequent and painful with each passing hour, every time I think they can't possibly get any worse .... they do. I am contracting about every 6-10 minutes, even though I'm now on the maximum dosage of terbutaline. I also have significant pain way low in my cervix, which does not go away despite hours of laying in bed. I'm guessing that I have to be continuing to dilate. If Jamin is not halfway outta me by the time I arrive at the hospital Thursday night I will be shocked.
Being on the max dosage of terbutaline has me geeked outta my mind. Man, that stuff is nasty. I was on it for nearly 5 weeks with Gracie, and now 12 weeks on/off with Jamin ...... but seriously I am still shocked sometimes at how awful it can make you feel. I am constantly trembling, heart racing, and sometimes have difficulty catching my breath. It's also doing a number on my already problematic blood pressure. Needless to say, sleep is pretty much out the window at this point.
I am still checking Gracie's little head twice a day for nasty bugs. So far we seem to be in the clear, THANK YOU LORD. But Doctor Kaufman says we're not quite out of the woods until Friday. So I'm optimistic, but afraid to declare victory too soon on that one.
My babysitter, Brandi, has landed herself in the hospital now .... complications with her blood pressure and potassium levels. Please pray for her and baby Savannah! Her absence is sorely missed, as I haven't had any help here at the house all week and I am pretty much totally unable to do anything by myself right now.
"THE" family issue that I've been praying about is not resolved, in fact it's only grown a million times worse. I was up at 4:00am this morning having a panic attack over this whole mess. I am trying not to break under the stress, but I'm close.
And last but not least .......... the coup de grâce ............ Gracie woke up at 7am this morning vomiting. James took her to the doctor, where it was determined that she has an unidentified stomach virus. We have no idea at this point how long she will be sick or when she will be passed the contagious point. She has not developed a fever yet, which is the yardstick by which the doctors generally determine the contagious period. We were instructed that if she has no fever and no vomiting by tomorrow, she is fine to come to the hospital to meet her brother on Friday.
But if she has any fever or any vomiting tomorrow, then she has to stay away. I haven't even had the heart to tell her yet .......... she will be DEVASTATED. As I am. All we can do at this point is wait and see.
In the meantime, James and I are washing our hands so feverishly that the skin is ready to fall off. We are praying that she recovers quickly, and that neither of us contract it. We are feeding her small sips of pedialyte, which seems to be our only option as she was throwing up water earlier today. If/when she keeps down the pedialyte for 8 solid hours, then we can try some bread or applesauce.
I am desperately begging for your prayers!!! We are so overwhelmed and my brain can hardly function at this point. I truly want to just break down and cry for a bit, but I don't even have the energy to do that.
Please pray for:
1. Gracie: no fever, hold down foods, recovery by tomorrow, no head lice.
2. James and I: no stomach virus, a few hours of sleep, maintain sanity.
3. Jamin: mature lungs by tomorrow!
4. Pregnancy complications: amnio tomorrow morning with no problems, normal blood pressure, contractions and cervical pain under control, NO SPONTANEOUS LABOR.
5. Gigantic family thing: resolution before WWIII breaks out.
Okay, that's all my brain can handle for now.
DESPERATELY CLAWING OUR WAY TO THE FINISH LINE.
We now have just two days left until Jamin's arrival, and let me tell you, we are being pummeled from every angle. Please forgive me if this post comes across as super whiny. I'm trying not to whine, truly I am. But I am so overwhelmed, seriously I just need to vent for a moment.
My contractions are growing ever more frequent and painful with each passing hour, every time I think they can't possibly get any worse .... they do. I am contracting about every 6-10 minutes, even though I'm now on the maximum dosage of terbutaline. I also have significant pain way low in my cervix, which does not go away despite hours of laying in bed. I'm guessing that I have to be continuing to dilate. If Jamin is not halfway outta me by the time I arrive at the hospital Thursday night I will be shocked.
Being on the max dosage of terbutaline has me geeked outta my mind. Man, that stuff is nasty. I was on it for nearly 5 weeks with Gracie, and now 12 weeks on/off with Jamin ...... but seriously I am still shocked sometimes at how awful it can make you feel. I am constantly trembling, heart racing, and sometimes have difficulty catching my breath. It's also doing a number on my already problematic blood pressure. Needless to say, sleep is pretty much out the window at this point.
I am still checking Gracie's little head twice a day for nasty bugs. So far we seem to be in the clear, THANK YOU LORD. But Doctor Kaufman says we're not quite out of the woods until Friday. So I'm optimistic, but afraid to declare victory too soon on that one.
My babysitter, Brandi, has landed herself in the hospital now .... complications with her blood pressure and potassium levels. Please pray for her and baby Savannah! Her absence is sorely missed, as I haven't had any help here at the house all week and I am pretty much totally unable to do anything by myself right now.
"THE" family issue that I've been praying about is not resolved, in fact it's only grown a million times worse. I was up at 4:00am this morning having a panic attack over this whole mess. I am trying not to break under the stress, but I'm close.
And last but not least .......... the coup de grâce ............ Gracie woke up at 7am this morning vomiting. James took her to the doctor, where it was determined that she has an unidentified stomach virus. We have no idea at this point how long she will be sick or when she will be passed the contagious point. She has not developed a fever yet, which is the yardstick by which the doctors generally determine the contagious period. We were instructed that if she has no fever and no vomiting by tomorrow, she is fine to come to the hospital to meet her brother on Friday.
But if she has any fever or any vomiting tomorrow, then she has to stay away. I haven't even had the heart to tell her yet .......... she will be DEVASTATED. As I am. All we can do at this point is wait and see.
In the meantime, James and I are washing our hands so feverishly that the skin is ready to fall off. We are praying that she recovers quickly, and that neither of us contract it. We are feeding her small sips of pedialyte, which seems to be our only option as she was throwing up water earlier today. If/when she keeps down the pedialyte for 8 solid hours, then we can try some bread or applesauce.
I am desperately begging for your prayers!!! We are so overwhelmed and my brain can hardly function at this point. I truly want to just break down and cry for a bit, but I don't even have the energy to do that.
Please pray for:
1. Gracie: no fever, hold down foods, recovery by tomorrow, no head lice.
2. James and I: no stomach virus, a few hours of sleep, maintain sanity.
3. Jamin: mature lungs by tomorrow!
4. Pregnancy complications: amnio tomorrow morning with no problems, normal blood pressure, contractions and cervical pain under control, NO SPONTANEOUS LABOR.
5. Gigantic family thing: resolution before WWIII breaks out.
Okay, that's all my brain can handle for now.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
There's a light at the end of this tunnel ...
Lots of big news to report:
The plan at this point is to do an amniocentesis in the morning of Thursday April 9th. This test carries risks, along with the largest needle known to man .... both of which scare the crap outta me. But it also will tell us the level of Jamin's lung maturity. We should have the results back by Thursday afternoon. If all looks well with his lungs, we will go forth with the induction on Friday morning April 10. Dr. Garcia says I'm "ripe and ready to go" (his words), so he anticipates that the induction will only require a small dose of pitocin to get the ball rolling, at which point I should labor and deliver quickly.
I am so eager to meet Jamin, and to end what feels like the world's longest pregnancy rollercoaster ride!
In the meantime, I'm slowly scratching things off my "must do before the baby arrives" list, and praying that Jamin actually WAITS until April 10th. My contractions have really been borderline out-of-control for the last 3+ days ... upwards of 6-8 per hour ... so I am practically holding my breath.
I'm in great need of your continued prayers! Please pray specifically for (1) a safe amnio procedure (2) mature lungs by April 9th; (3) no spontaneous labor prior to April 10th; and (4) comfort for our fears.
More updates soon!!!
I endured my VERY LAST injection of 17-hydroxy-progesterone Friday morning. I will really miss seeing my sweet home nurse, Sharon, each week .... she always gives me a comforting word of advice and straight answers to my questions and concerns. However I will most definitely NOT miss the 40-foot needle, the bruises, and certainly not the limping that takes place for days afterwards.
ALSO ..... I'm excited to say that Jamin will almost definitely be arriving within the next two weeks ... we have an induction date!!! Dr. Garcia wants to induce tentatively on Friday April 10 (which is Good Friday -- how cool is that?) I will be 36w2d at that point. Due to the medications I'm taking, particularly the heparin, he feels the safest route is to get Jamin OUT as soon as his lungs are mature and ready.
The plan at this point is to do an amniocentesis in the morning of Thursday April 9th. This test carries risks, along with the largest needle known to man .... both of which scare the crap outta me. But it also will tell us the level of Jamin's lung maturity. We should have the results back by Thursday afternoon. If all looks well with his lungs, we will go forth with the induction on Friday morning April 10. Dr. Garcia says I'm "ripe and ready to go" (his words), so he anticipates that the induction will only require a small dose of pitocin to get the ball rolling, at which point I should labor and deliver quickly.
I am so eager to meet Jamin, and to end what feels like the world's longest pregnancy rollercoaster ride!
In the meantime, I'm slowly scratching things off my "must do before the baby arrives" list, and praying that Jamin actually WAITS until April 10th. My contractions have really been borderline out-of-control for the last 3+ days ... upwards of 6-8 per hour ... so I am practically holding my breath.
I'm in great need of your continued prayers! Please pray specifically for (1) a safe amnio procedure (2) mature lungs by April 9th; (3) no spontaneous labor prior to April 10th; and (4) comfort for our fears.
More updates soon!!!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
33 Fun-Facts
Growing up, my family would always kid that I was the queen of "fun-facts", a.k.a ........ useless bits of information that most people don't really care much about. Today I've decided it would be fun to share 33 little facts about my pregnancy, to celebrate 33 weeks of pregnancy. Many thanks to my dear friend Katie for sharing this idea. So sit back, pay close attention, and get your #2 pencils ready. There will be a pop quiz sometime next week.
1. I am now 33 weeks pregnant. To date, I have had 16 ultrasounds, 47 doctors appointments, 19 cervical exams, and approximately 304 needle sticks. The needle number breaks down to 140 lovenox shots, 17 progesterone injections, 112 heparin shots, 27 blood draws, 1 diabetes screening, 2 steriod injections at the hospital, and 5 IV's.
2. In an average week, I'm currently having about 672 contractions, swallowing 63 pills, choking down about 70 peppermint Tums, and spending 21+ hours attached to my toco monitor.
3. I tried to count the number of times I've complained ..... but let's just be realistic .... totally impossible to estimate.
4. Maternity clothes and I don't really get along. After three pregnancies, I can honestly say that I have never owned a single pair of maternity pants that fit me. This time around, I decided not to waste my money, and instead focused on buying "normal" clothes one size bigger than I would normally wear. This method has worked beautifully, up until about 2-3 weeks ago. It now requires a small miracle to button my jeans, and the change to warmer weather has left me with no short-sleeved shirts to wear. I refuse to buy anything else, though, since I only get to leave the house for doctor appointments and I keep thinking the baby will come any day now.
5. I am secretly terrified that I'm going to stab Jamin in the head with my heparin needle. The logical part of me knows this is pretty much impossible to do with a normal-sized syringe, but the mom part of me worries nonetheless. Since I inject in my stomach, right near the belly button, I practically hold my breath every 12 hours and try to think happy thoughts. This has gotten especially difficult lately, since Jamin moves and rolls and kicks non-stop, so injecting is like trying not to hit a moving target. I can literally feel him rolling under my fingers when I put the needle in. Add in a dose of terbutaline, which results in uncontrollably shaky hands, and you can understand my paranoia.
6. I recently found out that heparin is made from the intestinal mucous of a pig. Yes you read that correctly. Apparently the same is true for lovenox. I learned this lovely little tidbit after asking Dr. Garcia why the pamphlets from the pharmacy have warnings about allergies to pork and pork products. Since Dr. Garcia is constantly kidding around and exaggerating for the sake of a good laugh, I honestly thought his explanation was a joke until I got home and looked at my heparin vials. Sure enough, right there on the packaging, it says: "Porcine Intestinal Mucosa". So now when I inject my heparin, I must control my fear of stabbing the baby, steady my trembling terbualine hands, beg Jamin to hold still, AND I must also control my gag reflex while fighting off visions of pig intestines. It's gotten to be quite a task!
7. I have a medic-alert bracelet, which I ordered the very first week of my pregnancy. I wear it every single time I leave the house because I have this fear that I will collapse while alone in public and no one will know what the heck to do with me. My bracelet contains my name, a description of my most important injections, a list of my drug allergies, and emergency contact numbers for James and Dr. Garcia. I honestly won't venture past the mailbox without that thing on my arm.
8. If I have a choice between drinking a glass of water, or a coke, I almost always go for the coke. Yes I often feel guilty for it. But I'm almost positive it doesn't make me a bad mother.
9. I am convinced that I have taken more medication during this pregnancy than I have in the previous 29 years of my life combined. I have no way of proving that, but nonetheless I'm quite positive it's true. And it bothers me immensely.
10. I'm equally convinced that I know more details about pregnancy complications than most medical professionals. I can easily quote statistical studies of cervical measurements and their corresponding rates of preterm delivery, the failure rates of 17P, or the percentage of fetal fibronectin inaccuracies.
11. I haven't been able to touch my toes since around Christmas-time. I normally keep a strict foot-regimen and maintain my own professional-looking pedi, but my lack of flexibility has resulted in an embarrassingly unkempt appearance. Every week when I see Dr. Garcia and put my feet up in those dreaded stirrups, I feel the overwhelming need to apologize. He usually rolls his eyes, and tells me that he's seen lots of gross things in all his years of medical practice and unpainted toenails don't even crack his top 100. I believe him, yet feel embarrassed anyways.
12. I *can* still shave my legs, though doing so requires a serious feat of olympic-worthy gymnastics. By the time I'm done I'm so exhausted that I literally have to sit down in the shower to catch my breath, at which point I half expect to see Bela Karolyi burst in shouting, "Zat vaz faantasteek my leetle friend!" while waiving a gold medal and a bouquet of wild flowers in the air. But so far, no Bela ... no gold medal ... and no acknowledgement of my super-human one-footed back-bending abilities. It's kind of disappointing to be honest.
13. I can personally attest to the fact that it really IS possible to get heartburn from ingesting only a sip of water. It makes no difference what I eat, or when I eat, or how much I eat. Even when I DON'T eat ..... the result is constant unbearable heartburn. In the morning I wake up, on an empty stomach, with heartburn. If I'm in a sitting position, but bend over slightly (to write, or type, or sew) I can literally feel acid coming up my throat. I have tried Zantac, Tagament, Protonix, and endless bottles of Tums. There is no cure.
14. Despite spending countless hours confined to my bed ..... I hardly EVER turn on the the tv. I spend most of my time playing games with Gracie, or surfing with the computer in my lap, or on the phone, or making lists, or working on sewing projects. Honestly the only time my tv gets turned on is when Gracie wants to watch Noggin, or when James gets home from work.
15. I remain amazed/horrified/entranced/scared to death by the endless ways pregnancy alters my body. So far I have gained 15 lbs, but my waist has grown NINE INCHES! Yes I measure it. No I'm not obsessed. I just like to record every detail, it's so neat to look back on later. I can tell you, for instance, that while I currently weigh less than I did when 33 wks pregnant with Gracie, my tummy is much larger in size now than it was back then.
16. A few weeks ago I noticed that I'm developing melasma on my upper cheeks. This is the nicely-named "mask of pregnancy" .... basically extra pigment, though it should be only temporary, praise Jesus. I never had this with either of the other two pregnancies, but it's quite ugly. One more ego-buster on top of all the other ego-busters pregnant mommies must endure ....
17. Hormones will apparently cause extra hair to grow in strange places. 'Nuff said on that subject.
18. I am baffled and completely intimidated at the prospect of shopping for a nursing bra.
19. I often worry about the physical difficulties I may face after Jamin is born .... just getting my body to function normally again. Right now I can only walk short distances without pain shooting thru my weakened leg muscles, and a trip up the stairs causes serious fatigue and breathlessness. Most days I feel like a 30-year-old woman in a 90-year-old body.
20. I've decided whoever started the rumor that "pregnancy is beautiful" has clearly never been pregnant before. See #4, #11, #12, #15, #16, and #17.
21. The later stages of pregnancy have given me crazy dreams. Not the "oh-la-la" kind of crazy dreams, but the "I-need-a-psychiatric-evaluation" kind of crazy dreams.
22. I have learned that people really do stare when you go to a public place in a wheelchair. Traveling this way has been a very eye-opening experience.
23. I am completely terrified of getting stretch marks. So twice a day, for the duration of my pregnancy, I have slathered $79-a-bottle prevention cream all over my abdomen. I have no idea if it will actually make a difference, but my fear of stretch marks is worse than my fear of wasting money.
24. Sometimes in conversation when I'm talking about Jamin, I accidentally call him Isaac. It freaks me out and I hate it.
25. I have a freakish-looking marble-sized hand tumor on the top of my right wrist. Dr. Garcia tells me it's just a ganglion cyst .... basically a minor thing but a serious annoyance. Occasionally my three middle fingers will go numb. Dr. Garcia referred me to his hand surgeon and I'm planning to pay him a visit once I'm not pregnant anymore (I think I have enough doctors for the time being!)
26. Despite my now proficient use of needles, I *still* have to look away EVERY SINGLE TIME I have a blood draw. There are just some things you don't ever get used to.
27. I've had my packed hospital bag sitting by the door for the last 7 weeks, and I'm convinced that the one time I forget to bring my cellphone to the doctor with me will inevitably be the time I am sent to the hospital in labor.
28. I find myself extremely annoyed by the women who sail through pregnancy with zero complications but yet have the nerve to make a huge fuss about minor things like swollen feet.
29. I absolutely, unequivocally, can not WAIT to have my body and my life back ... yet at the same time I know, without a doubt (because I am nuts), that in the very near future I will feel extremely sad and miss being pregnant.
30. I am astounded to think of how drastically my perspective has changed from the first pregnancy to the third. The things that seemed so gigantically worrisome the first time -- like whether I'd require a C-Section or whether I'd master the art of breastfeeding -- really seem so trivial to me now. I could honestly care less about that stuff at this point, as long as my baby ends up safely at home with me.
31. I've had to physically restrain myself from choking people who find out about my bedrest situation and make comments like, "I sure wish **I** could lay in bed all day and have people waiting on **me** hand and foot!!!" ...... as if being stripped of your freedom, confined to your bed for 23 hours a day and allowed to do NOTHING beyond wiping your own bottom and worrying endlessly about the safety of your baby and the well-being of your family is actually a VACATION and not TORTURE.
32. My needle bruises have served as comic relief throughout my pregnancy. About 2 months ago I was making an "emergency" trip to Dr. Garcia's office ... it was one of those scheduled over the phone, be-here-in-30-minutes kind of appointments. I have *never* seen any other provider at his office, because I just have too much going on and no one else really wants to deal with me, but on this day Dr. Garcia was out so they stuck me in quickly to see a midwife named Mia, who was super sweet. She made jovial conversation with me, checked me out, and then lifted my shirt to do the "push on your belly" maneuver .... at which point she stopped dead in her tracks. Her lighthearted demeanor immediately became urgently serious, and she pulled up a chair, sat down next to my exam table, and grabbed my hand. Thinking she must've seen something hugely problematic, I began to panic. Then she looked right into my eyes and said, "Kristi, I need you to tell me right now how you got those bruises on your stomach. Is your husband unhappy about the pregnancy?"
33. In spite of all the hardships and challenges this whole experience has brought us, I don't regret our decision to take the plunge. Even if I had known eighteen months ago all that was in store for us, I would choose to do it again without hesitation. I'm just so grateful to be pregnant.
1. I am now 33 weeks pregnant. To date, I have had 16 ultrasounds, 47 doctors appointments, 19 cervical exams, and approximately 304 needle sticks. The needle number breaks down to 140 lovenox shots, 17 progesterone injections, 112 heparin shots, 27 blood draws, 1 diabetes screening, 2 steriod injections at the hospital, and 5 IV's.
2. In an average week, I'm currently having about 672 contractions, swallowing 63 pills, choking down about 70 peppermint Tums, and spending 21+ hours attached to my toco monitor.
3. I tried to count the number of times I've complained ..... but let's just be realistic .... totally impossible to estimate.
4. Maternity clothes and I don't really get along. After three pregnancies, I can honestly say that I have never owned a single pair of maternity pants that fit me. This time around, I decided not to waste my money, and instead focused on buying "normal" clothes one size bigger than I would normally wear. This method has worked beautifully, up until about 2-3 weeks ago. It now requires a small miracle to button my jeans, and the change to warmer weather has left me with no short-sleeved shirts to wear. I refuse to buy anything else, though, since I only get to leave the house for doctor appointments and I keep thinking the baby will come any day now.
5. I am secretly terrified that I'm going to stab Jamin in the head with my heparin needle. The logical part of me knows this is pretty much impossible to do with a normal-sized syringe, but the mom part of me worries nonetheless. Since I inject in my stomach, right near the belly button, I practically hold my breath every 12 hours and try to think happy thoughts. This has gotten especially difficult lately, since Jamin moves and rolls and kicks non-stop, so injecting is like trying not to hit a moving target. I can literally feel him rolling under my fingers when I put the needle in. Add in a dose of terbutaline, which results in uncontrollably shaky hands, and you can understand my paranoia.
6. I recently found out that heparin is made from the intestinal mucous of a pig. Yes you read that correctly. Apparently the same is true for lovenox. I learned this lovely little tidbit after asking Dr. Garcia why the pamphlets from the pharmacy have warnings about allergies to pork and pork products. Since Dr. Garcia is constantly kidding around and exaggerating for the sake of a good laugh, I honestly thought his explanation was a joke until I got home and looked at my heparin vials. Sure enough, right there on the packaging, it says: "Porcine Intestinal Mucosa". So now when I inject my heparin, I must control my fear of stabbing the baby, steady my trembling terbualine hands, beg Jamin to hold still, AND I must also control my gag reflex while fighting off visions of pig intestines. It's gotten to be quite a task!
7. I have a medic-alert bracelet, which I ordered the very first week of my pregnancy. I wear it every single time I leave the house because I have this fear that I will collapse while alone in public and no one will know what the heck to do with me. My bracelet contains my name, a description of my most important injections, a list of my drug allergies, and emergency contact numbers for James and Dr. Garcia. I honestly won't venture past the mailbox without that thing on my arm.
8. If I have a choice between drinking a glass of water, or a coke, I almost always go for the coke. Yes I often feel guilty for it. But I'm almost positive it doesn't make me a bad mother.
9. I am convinced that I have taken more medication during this pregnancy than I have in the previous 29 years of my life combined. I have no way of proving that, but nonetheless I'm quite positive it's true. And it bothers me immensely.
10. I'm equally convinced that I know more details about pregnancy complications than most medical professionals. I can easily quote statistical studies of cervical measurements and their corresponding rates of preterm delivery, the failure rates of 17P, or the percentage of fetal fibronectin inaccuracies.
11. I haven't been able to touch my toes since around Christmas-time. I normally keep a strict foot-regimen and maintain my own professional-looking pedi, but my lack of flexibility has resulted in an embarrassingly unkempt appearance. Every week when I see Dr. Garcia and put my feet up in those dreaded stirrups, I feel the overwhelming need to apologize. He usually rolls his eyes, and tells me that he's seen lots of gross things in all his years of medical practice and unpainted toenails don't even crack his top 100. I believe him, yet feel embarrassed anyways.
12. I *can* still shave my legs, though doing so requires a serious feat of olympic-worthy gymnastics. By the time I'm done I'm so exhausted that I literally have to sit down in the shower to catch my breath, at which point I half expect to see Bela Karolyi burst in shouting, "Zat vaz faantasteek my leetle friend!" while waiving a gold medal and a bouquet of wild flowers in the air. But so far, no Bela ... no gold medal ... and no acknowledgement of my super-human one-footed back-bending abilities. It's kind of disappointing to be honest.
13. I can personally attest to the fact that it really IS possible to get heartburn from ingesting only a sip of water. It makes no difference what I eat, or when I eat, or how much I eat. Even when I DON'T eat ..... the result is constant unbearable heartburn. In the morning I wake up, on an empty stomach, with heartburn. If I'm in a sitting position, but bend over slightly (to write, or type, or sew) I can literally feel acid coming up my throat. I have tried Zantac, Tagament, Protonix, and endless bottles of Tums. There is no cure.
14. Despite spending countless hours confined to my bed ..... I hardly EVER turn on the the tv. I spend most of my time playing games with Gracie, or surfing with the computer in my lap, or on the phone, or making lists, or working on sewing projects. Honestly the only time my tv gets turned on is when Gracie wants to watch Noggin, or when James gets home from work.
15. I remain amazed/horrified/entranced/scared to death by the endless ways pregnancy alters my body. So far I have gained 15 lbs, but my waist has grown NINE INCHES! Yes I measure it. No I'm not obsessed. I just like to record every detail, it's so neat to look back on later. I can tell you, for instance, that while I currently weigh less than I did when 33 wks pregnant with Gracie, my tummy is much larger in size now than it was back then.
16. A few weeks ago I noticed that I'm developing melasma on my upper cheeks. This is the nicely-named "mask of pregnancy" .... basically extra pigment, though it should be only temporary, praise Jesus. I never had this with either of the other two pregnancies, but it's quite ugly. One more ego-buster on top of all the other ego-busters pregnant mommies must endure ....
17. Hormones will apparently cause extra hair to grow in strange places. 'Nuff said on that subject.
18. I am baffled and completely intimidated at the prospect of shopping for a nursing bra.
19. I often worry about the physical difficulties I may face after Jamin is born .... just getting my body to function normally again. Right now I can only walk short distances without pain shooting thru my weakened leg muscles, and a trip up the stairs causes serious fatigue and breathlessness. Most days I feel like a 30-year-old woman in a 90-year-old body.
20. I've decided whoever started the rumor that "pregnancy is beautiful" has clearly never been pregnant before. See #4, #11, #12, #15, #16, and #17.
21. The later stages of pregnancy have given me crazy dreams. Not the "oh-la-la" kind of crazy dreams, but the "I-need-a-psychiatric-evaluation" kind of crazy dreams.
22. I have learned that people really do stare when you go to a public place in a wheelchair. Traveling this way has been a very eye-opening experience.
23. I am completely terrified of getting stretch marks. So twice a day, for the duration of my pregnancy, I have slathered $79-a-bottle prevention cream all over my abdomen. I have no idea if it will actually make a difference, but my fear of stretch marks is worse than my fear of wasting money.
24. Sometimes in conversation when I'm talking about Jamin, I accidentally call him Isaac. It freaks me out and I hate it.
25. I have a freakish-looking marble-sized hand tumor on the top of my right wrist. Dr. Garcia tells me it's just a ganglion cyst .... basically a minor thing but a serious annoyance. Occasionally my three middle fingers will go numb. Dr. Garcia referred me to his hand surgeon and I'm planning to pay him a visit once I'm not pregnant anymore (I think I have enough doctors for the time being!)
26. Despite my now proficient use of needles, I *still* have to look away EVERY SINGLE TIME I have a blood draw. There are just some things you don't ever get used to.
27. I've had my packed hospital bag sitting by the door for the last 7 weeks, and I'm convinced that the one time I forget to bring my cellphone to the doctor with me will inevitably be the time I am sent to the hospital in labor.
28. I find myself extremely annoyed by the women who sail through pregnancy with zero complications but yet have the nerve to make a huge fuss about minor things like swollen feet.
29. I absolutely, unequivocally, can not WAIT to have my body and my life back ... yet at the same time I know, without a doubt (because I am nuts), that in the very near future I will feel extremely sad and miss being pregnant.
30. I am astounded to think of how drastically my perspective has changed from the first pregnancy to the third. The things that seemed so gigantically worrisome the first time -- like whether I'd require a C-Section or whether I'd master the art of breastfeeding -- really seem so trivial to me now. I could honestly care less about that stuff at this point, as long as my baby ends up safely at home with me.
31. I've had to physically restrain myself from choking people who find out about my bedrest situation and make comments like, "I sure wish **I** could lay in bed all day and have people waiting on **me** hand and foot!!!" ...... as if being stripped of your freedom, confined to your bed for 23 hours a day and allowed to do NOTHING beyond wiping your own bottom and worrying endlessly about the safety of your baby and the well-being of your family is actually a VACATION and not TORTURE.
32. My needle bruises have served as comic relief throughout my pregnancy. About 2 months ago I was making an "emergency" trip to Dr. Garcia's office ... it was one of those scheduled over the phone, be-here-in-30-minutes kind of appointments. I have *never* seen any other provider at his office, because I just have too much going on and no one else really wants to deal with me, but on this day Dr. Garcia was out so they stuck me in quickly to see a midwife named Mia, who was super sweet. She made jovial conversation with me, checked me out, and then lifted my shirt to do the "push on your belly" maneuver .... at which point she stopped dead in her tracks. Her lighthearted demeanor immediately became urgently serious, and she pulled up a chair, sat down next to my exam table, and grabbed my hand. Thinking she must've seen something hugely problematic, I began to panic. Then she looked right into my eyes and said, "Kristi, I need you to tell me right now how you got those bruises on your stomach. Is your husband unhappy about the pregnancy?"
33. In spite of all the hardships and challenges this whole experience has brought us, I don't regret our decision to take the plunge. Even if I had known eighteen months ago all that was in store for us, I would choose to do it again without hesitation. I'm just so grateful to be pregnant.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Hospital Day 2
So the whole Ambien thing was a fun experience. Last night I asked the nurse to give me just a 1/2 dose (5mg) to start since I've never taken it before and had heard crazy stories about hallucinations and such. After the 5mg I did begin feeling very tired and relaxed, but somehow still unable to get over the hump and actually FALL ASLEEP. So an hour later I buzzed her and asked for the other 1/2 of the dose. At that point it got a little hazy ..... I was semi-asleep and semi-awake at the same time. Hard to explain. I could hear the TV and I could hear the nurses walking by and talking outside of my room. So I wasn't fully asleep. But I wasn't fully awake and alert either. I "slept" like this from about 11:30 until 4am.
At 4am I found myself standing next to my bed with the lights on searching for my glasses. I have no idea what lead to me thinking I needed my glasses, or why I got up, I have no recollection at all. At one point I was crouching on the floor looking under the bed, when my nurse came in. I am hooked up to a million different monitors so she was immediately alerted when I got out of bed.
She walked in and politely asked if I needed help with something. I told her yes, I can't find my glasses can you help me with that? She went right to work searching, and asked "were you up late reading?" I replied no, I've been sleeping. She then asked, "okay, well why do you need your glasses right now?" There was a long pause while I tried to search my brain for the answer. It was in that moment that I realized I didn't have an answer because I had turned into one of the Ambien-crazies just like I feared! I truly had no idea why I was looking for my glasses or what I even needed them for. But I did have just enough mental clarity to recognize that I was confused and disoriented. So I finally just bit the bullet and admitted, "I'm so sorry, I totally can't remember! I feel really silly because I just realized that I'm not making any sense. I'm so sorry I bothered you!"
She was such a sweetie, told me "no worries, this happens to just about everybody on this stuff" .... tucked me back in and turned out the lights. And yes, she even found my glasses for me. Nurse of the year award goes to Jen! :)
Every other nurse I have met here has been equally fabulous. Even the other staff that are not nurses. The food lady that takes my food orders and brings me my meals .... wonderful. This morning when my shower head wasn't working right .... they immediately sent a maintenance man who took care of it in less than 5min. I have been very pleased with the care I've received here and I feel very fortunate that I am in *this* hospital, with *these* doctors .... the Lord has really shown us great favor and surrounded us with everything we've needed. Certainly I'd much prefer to be at home in my own bed (with zero contractions, perfect fluid, and a 4cm thick cervix of course!) .... but since we can't have that, then this truly is the next best place for me to be. I feel very grateful.
I was up (and alert I should say!) around 6:30 this morning. I ate breakfast and immediately began begging the nurses for permission to take a shower. Dr. Scott came by doing his rounds, he is one of Dr. Garcia's partners. I had never met him before. He was short and to the point ... basically repeating everything I had already known. And I was able to sweet-talk him into allowing me a shower so that made our chat super successful in my book!
After my shower I was greeted by Dr. Allen, a perinatologist who works with Dr. Mann. I had never met him before either. He went through the same 5 talking points that Dr. Scott had just finished an hour earlier .... so much so that I told him "nope, I don't have any questions, thank you!". HA! Now anyone who knows me will get a good laugh out of that! Normally I have lists of questions which I literally whip out of my pocket when the doctor walks into the room, at which point the doctors will laugh and tell me I need to stop doing so much research, and then I convince them to grab a comfortable seat so we can chat until they've answered every last one of my concerns.
It may seem extreme, but hey .... my perinatologist literally charges my insurance company upwards of $700 AN HOUR for being in the same room with me, and this fee does not include ANY medical procedures she might perform, it's simply a fee for her presence. So the little lists of overly-detailed questions are just my way of making sure she actually *earns* a tiny bit of that disgusting fee. But I digress....
After the doctor visits, my day has been quite slow and boring, really nothing new has changed. So that's the best we can hope for under the circumstances! They've pumped 3 full bags of fluid into me just since this morning, so I've spent the majority of my day making the endless trips to and from the bathroom, literally like every 10-15 minutes. It's a laughable ordeal really: First I have to unplug my 2 fetal monitors and throw the cords around my neck so they don't "fall in". I then remove my IV bag, and drag it all in with me too. I then have the pleasure of urinating into the oh-so-dainty and fashionable bowl insert-thingy which they place inside the toilet to collect and measure your urine output. Then there's the artform getting the pants back up without ripping the IV port out of my wrist, followed by more rearranging of the chords, which by now have winded into a 7-layer ball of madness, wash hands, limp back to the monitoring station, spend five minutes untangling the 7-layer ball of madness so that I can plug everything back in and get the IV bag hung back up properly. I have learned all the right buttons to push in case the machine honks at me or doesn't like the direction of my plug. Once the machine is happy and I see my toco strip is moving regularly again, I am free to get back in bed. Ahhhhh. Rest. Exactly 7-15 minutes after that my bladder is full again and it's time to repeat the entire process! Annoying for sure, but seriously I'm not complaining because it's the only form of "exercise" I've been allowed to have for about 6months now. And truly, if my biggest complaint of the day is that I have to pee 7000 times ..... then that means life is pretty good at the moment considering the alternatives!
Beyond the never-ending bathroom adventure, really the rest of my day has been quiet. And it's been nice! I've enjoyed the quite really. Pastor Jamal from CCH stopped by after lunch and we chatted eachother's brains out for well over an hour. He is always so fun to talk to! I made him promise that next time we meet to catch up that we will do at at Five Guys over cheeseburgers and cokes. He was quick to agree to those terms, so I'm holding him to it.
He prayed with me before he left, and it was a surreal moment when he prayed Jamin's name out loud. Hearing someone *else* say that name, in prayer and petition no less, was so neat. He has been "my" Jamin in my mind for many weeks, but having him officially be recognized as Jamin by the outside world was heartwarming. I'm so glad that James and I ended up agreeing to a name on Monday of this week .... this way all our praying friends can lift him up now by name. I know God is already getting thousands of petitions on behalf of Jamin Wren and I know he hears each one. That's so comforting for me.
James worked until early afternoon, then left to pick up Gracie from my parent's house. Then they came here to hang out for a while. Jessica came too! So it was a nice visit. Gracie was enamoured with my "magic bed" which moved up and down and all around at the touch of a button. She declared that she wants one for her room now. I tried to squeeze as many cuddles out of her as I possibly could (when she was sitting still, that is). I sure miss her.
I made them all stay until 8pm when my second steroid shot came, during yesterday's I was alone and I really wanted a hand to hold this time. I've been *dreading* it .... seriously all day when I look at the clock I've thought, "uugggh, only x number of hours left until my stupid steroid shot!". James held my hand, Jessica bolted out the door to wait in the hall, and Gracie got as close as physically possible to the injection site because she wanted to see every detail ... to the point that her nose was an inch from my bum and we had to tell her to back off a bit! She does the exact same thing on Fridays when the home nurse does my 17p shots .... apparently she's fascinated by the whole thing! Maybe we have a little nurse in training or something?
After my whines died down a bit, James and Jess headed out with Gracie. I am so relieved that James and Gracie will be sleeping at home in their own beds tonight, and Gracie will get to go to school tomorrow. I'm really wanting to make this whole ordeal the least disruptive as we can for her. So anything we can do to stick to her schedule and maintain a sense of normalcy is our plan.
I ended my night tonight having a verrrry long girl-talk with my night nurse, Emmie. Turns out we have a lot in common. She is a devoted Christian, and she and her husband (who works here upstairs in the NICU) are going to seminary to pursue full time medical missions work in Eastern Europe. Emmie is currently 37 weeks pregnant herself, so we swapped pregnancy stories and she shared with me all the "insider" info she knows about anesthesia and such. As we talked she began to inquire more about Isaac and the circumstances of his birth. So I shared with her some of the chaos and absolute trauma of that night. I explained that this is one reason I'm so fearful of delivering this time without an epidural. She promised me that the pain of an abruption is SEVERE, ten times more severe than just a normal non-medicated delivery. She assured me that the pain I experienced then was exponentially worse than anything I will feel this time if we aren't able to use and epi. She is actually the second nurse to tell me this, and I trust her. I feel slightly better having the knowledge, but I'm still overwhelmingly terrified at the possibility of a non-medicated delivery.
We shall see. Only God knows right now.
Our plan for tomorrow, as best as I understand it, is that radiology will come up and get me early in the morning. Like, perhaps 7am early. They will do the ultrasound and bring me back up here. Dr. Garcia and Dr. Mann will both come by at some point tomorrow to see the ultrasound and determine a tentative long-term course of action. It could be immediate discharge, it could be 10+ weeks gestating upstairs, it could be fifty different options somewhere between the two.
My mind is weighing heavily on me tonight, I think because I shared Isaac's birth story with that sweet nurse, and of course our worst fear right now is that something that awful would happen again, to Jamin this time. And the fact that my "fate" tomorrow is so unknown .... that's causing a lot of anxiety as well.
So, against my better judgement, I think I will buzz Emmie and give the Ambien another shot. But JUST 5 mg tonight! I don't care to see fairies or gingerbread men in the corner of my room.
If anyone from Northside calls in the morning and seems frantic, tell them to look in the shower or inside the large tall cabinet next to the TV. To me those both look like good places to hide if you're hallucinating!
At 4am I found myself standing next to my bed with the lights on searching for my glasses. I have no idea what lead to me thinking I needed my glasses, or why I got up, I have no recollection at all. At one point I was crouching on the floor looking under the bed, when my nurse came in. I am hooked up to a million different monitors so she was immediately alerted when I got out of bed.
She walked in and politely asked if I needed help with something. I told her yes, I can't find my glasses can you help me with that? She went right to work searching, and asked "were you up late reading?" I replied no, I've been sleeping. She then asked, "okay, well why do you need your glasses right now?" There was a long pause while I tried to search my brain for the answer. It was in that moment that I realized I didn't have an answer because I had turned into one of the Ambien-crazies just like I feared! I truly had no idea why I was looking for my glasses or what I even needed them for. But I did have just enough mental clarity to recognize that I was confused and disoriented. So I finally just bit the bullet and admitted, "I'm so sorry, I totally can't remember! I feel really silly because I just realized that I'm not making any sense. I'm so sorry I bothered you!"
She was such a sweetie, told me "no worries, this happens to just about everybody on this stuff" .... tucked me back in and turned out the lights. And yes, she even found my glasses for me. Nurse of the year award goes to Jen! :)
Every other nurse I have met here has been equally fabulous. Even the other staff that are not nurses. The food lady that takes my food orders and brings me my meals .... wonderful. This morning when my shower head wasn't working right .... they immediately sent a maintenance man who took care of it in less than 5min. I have been very pleased with the care I've received here and I feel very fortunate that I am in *this* hospital, with *these* doctors .... the Lord has really shown us great favor and surrounded us with everything we've needed. Certainly I'd much prefer to be at home in my own bed (with zero contractions, perfect fluid, and a 4cm thick cervix of course!) .... but since we can't have that, then this truly is the next best place for me to be. I feel very grateful.
I was up (and alert I should say!) around 6:30 this morning. I ate breakfast and immediately began begging the nurses for permission to take a shower. Dr. Scott came by doing his rounds, he is one of Dr. Garcia's partners. I had never met him before. He was short and to the point ... basically repeating everything I had already known. And I was able to sweet-talk him into allowing me a shower so that made our chat super successful in my book!
After my shower I was greeted by Dr. Allen, a perinatologist who works with Dr. Mann. I had never met him before either. He went through the same 5 talking points that Dr. Scott had just finished an hour earlier .... so much so that I told him "nope, I don't have any questions, thank you!". HA! Now anyone who knows me will get a good laugh out of that! Normally I have lists of questions which I literally whip out of my pocket when the doctor walks into the room, at which point the doctors will laugh and tell me I need to stop doing so much research, and then I convince them to grab a comfortable seat so we can chat until they've answered every last one of my concerns.
It may seem extreme, but hey .... my perinatologist literally charges my insurance company upwards of $700 AN HOUR for being in the same room with me, and this fee does not include ANY medical procedures she might perform, it's simply a fee for her presence. So the little lists of overly-detailed questions are just my way of making sure she actually *earns* a tiny bit of that disgusting fee. But I digress....
After the doctor visits, my day has been quite slow and boring, really nothing new has changed. So that's the best we can hope for under the circumstances! They've pumped 3 full bags of fluid into me just since this morning, so I've spent the majority of my day making the endless trips to and from the bathroom, literally like every 10-15 minutes. It's a laughable ordeal really: First I have to unplug my 2 fetal monitors and throw the cords around my neck so they don't "fall in". I then remove my IV bag, and drag it all in with me too. I then have the pleasure of urinating into the oh-so-dainty and fashionable bowl insert-thingy which they place inside the toilet to collect and measure your urine output. Then there's the artform getting the pants back up without ripping the IV port out of my wrist, followed by more rearranging of the chords, which by now have winded into a 7-layer ball of madness, wash hands, limp back to the monitoring station, spend five minutes untangling the 7-layer ball of madness so that I can plug everything back in and get the IV bag hung back up properly. I have learned all the right buttons to push in case the machine honks at me or doesn't like the direction of my plug. Once the machine is happy and I see my toco strip is moving regularly again, I am free to get back in bed. Ahhhhh. Rest. Exactly 7-15 minutes after that my bladder is full again and it's time to repeat the entire process! Annoying for sure, but seriously I'm not complaining because it's the only form of "exercise" I've been allowed to have for about 6months now. And truly, if my biggest complaint of the day is that I have to pee 7000 times ..... then that means life is pretty good at the moment considering the alternatives!
Beyond the never-ending bathroom adventure, really the rest of my day has been quiet. And it's been nice! I've enjoyed the quite really. Pastor Jamal from CCH stopped by after lunch and we chatted eachother's brains out for well over an hour. He is always so fun to talk to! I made him promise that next time we meet to catch up that we will do at at Five Guys over cheeseburgers and cokes. He was quick to agree to those terms, so I'm holding him to it.
He prayed with me before he left, and it was a surreal moment when he prayed Jamin's name out loud. Hearing someone *else* say that name, in prayer and petition no less, was so neat. He has been "my" Jamin in my mind for many weeks, but having him officially be recognized as Jamin by the outside world was heartwarming. I'm so glad that James and I ended up agreeing to a name on Monday of this week .... this way all our praying friends can lift him up now by name. I know God is already getting thousands of petitions on behalf of Jamin Wren and I know he hears each one. That's so comforting for me.
James worked until early afternoon, then left to pick up Gracie from my parent's house. Then they came here to hang out for a while. Jessica came too! So it was a nice visit. Gracie was enamoured with my "magic bed" which moved up and down and all around at the touch of a button. She declared that she wants one for her room now. I tried to squeeze as many cuddles out of her as I possibly could (when she was sitting still, that is). I sure miss her.
I made them all stay until 8pm when my second steroid shot came, during yesterday's I was alone and I really wanted a hand to hold this time. I've been *dreading* it .... seriously all day when I look at the clock I've thought, "uugggh, only x number of hours left until my stupid steroid shot!". James held my hand, Jessica bolted out the door to wait in the hall, and Gracie got as close as physically possible to the injection site because she wanted to see every detail ... to the point that her nose was an inch from my bum and we had to tell her to back off a bit! She does the exact same thing on Fridays when the home nurse does my 17p shots .... apparently she's fascinated by the whole thing! Maybe we have a little nurse in training or something?
After my whines died down a bit, James and Jess headed out with Gracie. I am so relieved that James and Gracie will be sleeping at home in their own beds tonight, and Gracie will get to go to school tomorrow. I'm really wanting to make this whole ordeal the least disruptive as we can for her. So anything we can do to stick to her schedule and maintain a sense of normalcy is our plan.
I ended my night tonight having a verrrry long girl-talk with my night nurse, Emmie. Turns out we have a lot in common. She is a devoted Christian, and she and her husband (who works here upstairs in the NICU) are going to seminary to pursue full time medical missions work in Eastern Europe. Emmie is currently 37 weeks pregnant herself, so we swapped pregnancy stories and she shared with me all the "insider" info she knows about anesthesia and such. As we talked she began to inquire more about Isaac and the circumstances of his birth. So I shared with her some of the chaos and absolute trauma of that night. I explained that this is one reason I'm so fearful of delivering this time without an epidural. She promised me that the pain of an abruption is SEVERE, ten times more severe than just a normal non-medicated delivery. She assured me that the pain I experienced then was exponentially worse than anything I will feel this time if we aren't able to use and epi. She is actually the second nurse to tell me this, and I trust her. I feel slightly better having the knowledge, but I'm still overwhelmingly terrified at the possibility of a non-medicated delivery.
We shall see. Only God knows right now.
Our plan for tomorrow, as best as I understand it, is that radiology will come up and get me early in the morning. Like, perhaps 7am early. They will do the ultrasound and bring me back up here. Dr. Garcia and Dr. Mann will both come by at some point tomorrow to see the ultrasound and determine a tentative long-term course of action. It could be immediate discharge, it could be 10+ weeks gestating upstairs, it could be fifty different options somewhere between the two.
My mind is weighing heavily on me tonight, I think because I shared Isaac's birth story with that sweet nurse, and of course our worst fear right now is that something that awful would happen again, to Jamin this time. And the fact that my "fate" tomorrow is so unknown .... that's causing a lot of anxiety as well.
So, against my better judgement, I think I will buzz Emmie and give the Ambien another shot. But JUST 5 mg tonight! I don't care to see fairies or gingerbread men in the corner of my room.
If anyone from Northside calls in the morning and seems frantic, tell them to look in the shower or inside the large tall cabinet next to the TV. To me those both look like good places to hide if you're hallucinating!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
HERE WE GO AGAIN...
Tonight I'm blogging from a hospital bed. That means my day did not go well.
I went to my weekly peri appointment today at 1:00. There Dr. Mann saw that my cervix has thinned down to just 1.7 cm thick. Seven days ago it was 2.7, so we've lost an entire centimeter in a very short time. It should measure about 4-ish.
Apparently 1.7 is down into the "panic" range. Dr. Mann took one look and immediately declared that I was heading straight to the hospital. Her immediate goal was to start the betamethesone (steroid) injections to boost the baby's lung maturity. It takes 48 hours to get the full effect from those (2 doses given 24hours apart), so she wanted to begin them asap. She also wanted to begin monitoring and administer the tocolytic drugs if the contractions get too frequent. The baby weighs approximately 1lb 14oz.
Unfortunately I was there at her office by myself, with James at work and Gracie picked up from school by my parents. So this was very difficult news to swallow all alone. I stayed totally calm and focused while talking to Dr. Mann, trying to understand every detail and ask lots of questions. But once she left the room I lost it. All I could think was "I CAN NOT have a baby at 26 weeks, it's NOT an option". I know way too much about the survival rates and the long-term neurological and physical complications. Even a momentary thought of living that is simply unbearable.
I clammored out of Dr. Mann's office and down to the elevators, while trying to call James and explain that I was coming home to pack a hospital bag and he needed to meet me there. My mind was so jumbled, and apparently multi-tasking was more than my brain could handle. I inadvertently rode up and down the elevators twice in each direction before I could figure out which one was the right floor to get to the bridge for the parking deck. Dr. Mann's office is inside the main building at Piedmont Hospital, so that's a lot of floors! I rode for quite some time, trying to hide my obvious tears and confusion and avoid the stares from the doctors and nurses who loaded, unloaded, and then loaded again before I could figure out where I was going. The whole thing was quite ridiculous, given that I've been to that office at least two dozen times and under normal circumstances I can get there and back with my eyes closed.
I finally made it to the car and began calling family and friends. My dear friend, Jerah, promised she would call everyone from the church and ask for prayer. She said all the right things and really calmed me down! By the time I fought traffic and made it home I was almost normal again. I packed enough clothes for 4 nights, just in case, and packed an overnight bag for Gracie so she can stay with my parents. James and I then loaded back up and ventured to Northisde.
We got here around 5:00ish. It was weird checking in at admissions because every other woman in line with me was gigantically pregnant. Apparently if you're being induced, you're supposed to check in between 5 and 5:30 the night before. So there I stood, surrounded by relieved women, ready to pop and giddy with excitement that it was almost time to celebrate their big moment. As we each got to the front of the line, the admissions lady asked us how many weeks we were. All I heard was 39, 38 1/2, 40(!), and one 37 weeks. Then it's my turn: I tell them 26weeks 0 days. Everyones eyes turn to stare and I get a few looks of sympathy. And for a moment the fear rose up again.
They quickly put me in a room .... first actually before the tummy-popped induction girls who arrived before me. I'm on the first floor (I think? This place is huge) .... room B11. After seven thousand consent forms and admissions papers, they started an IV of fluids and gave me my first betamethazone shot (steroid). James had run out searching for some dinner when they did those .... and with the steriod shot I literally had to turn my head and bite down into my pillow to keep from screaming. That pain was horrific. I remembered from Gracie's pregnancy that those hurt badly; but time had erased the memory of just how bad they really were. Guess that's a good thing really. I have to get one more tomorrow night and then I'm done with those.
My other meds have pretty much stayed the same: I'm getting my Lovenox shots every 24hours, my 17P shot on Friday, aspirin, and all the rest. They've also added terbutaline shots when my contractions get too frequent, but so far they haven't been bad.
The plan at this point is to keep me here at least until Friday. The midwife came by earlier tonight and said quite honestly she has no idea how long I will be here .... could go home as early as Friday or could have to stay for another 10 weeks. It all depends on what happens in the next two days. On Friday Dr. Mann will come by to give me another ultrasound and re-measure everything. Based on what she sees she will make the judgement call at that time.
I have two doctors coming by tomorrow - one is Dr. Mann's partner and the other is Dr. Garcia's partner. Then Mann and Garcia will both come on Friday.
I was given an Ambien about 25 min ago (my first one ever, little nervous about how that will work out!) .... so I'm praying it will turn my brain off for the night and help me rest. I had to beg James to leave and go home to sleep in a real bed instead of this pathetic chair-thingy. He has refused all night but finally about an hour ago agreed. He got up at 4am this morning to drive his mother to Piedmont for an upper-GI test, so he is running on empty. Praying he gets some good rest tonight too, he sure needs it.
I went to my weekly peri appointment today at 1:00. There Dr. Mann saw that my cervix has thinned down to just 1.7 cm thick. Seven days ago it was 2.7, so we've lost an entire centimeter in a very short time. It should measure about 4-ish.
Apparently 1.7 is down into the "panic" range. Dr. Mann took one look and immediately declared that I was heading straight to the hospital. Her immediate goal was to start the betamethesone (steroid) injections to boost the baby's lung maturity. It takes 48 hours to get the full effect from those (2 doses given 24hours apart), so she wanted to begin them asap. She also wanted to begin monitoring and administer the tocolytic drugs if the contractions get too frequent. The baby weighs approximately 1lb 14oz.
Unfortunately I was there at her office by myself, with James at work and Gracie picked up from school by my parents. So this was very difficult news to swallow all alone. I stayed totally calm and focused while talking to Dr. Mann, trying to understand every detail and ask lots of questions. But once she left the room I lost it. All I could think was "I CAN NOT have a baby at 26 weeks, it's NOT an option". I know way too much about the survival rates and the long-term neurological and physical complications. Even a momentary thought of living that is simply unbearable.
I clammored out of Dr. Mann's office and down to the elevators, while trying to call James and explain that I was coming home to pack a hospital bag and he needed to meet me there. My mind was so jumbled, and apparently multi-tasking was more than my brain could handle. I inadvertently rode up and down the elevators twice in each direction before I could figure out which one was the right floor to get to the bridge for the parking deck. Dr. Mann's office is inside the main building at Piedmont Hospital, so that's a lot of floors! I rode for quite some time, trying to hide my obvious tears and confusion and avoid the stares from the doctors and nurses who loaded, unloaded, and then loaded again before I could figure out where I was going. The whole thing was quite ridiculous, given that I've been to that office at least two dozen times and under normal circumstances I can get there and back with my eyes closed.
I finally made it to the car and began calling family and friends. My dear friend, Jerah, promised she would call everyone from the church and ask for prayer. She said all the right things and really calmed me down! By the time I fought traffic and made it home I was almost normal again. I packed enough clothes for 4 nights, just in case, and packed an overnight bag for Gracie so she can stay with my parents. James and I then loaded back up and ventured to Northisde.
We got here around 5:00ish. It was weird checking in at admissions because every other woman in line with me was gigantically pregnant. Apparently if you're being induced, you're supposed to check in between 5 and 5:30 the night before. So there I stood, surrounded by relieved women, ready to pop and giddy with excitement that it was almost time to celebrate their big moment. As we each got to the front of the line, the admissions lady asked us how many weeks we were. All I heard was 39, 38 1/2, 40(!), and one 37 weeks. Then it's my turn: I tell them 26weeks 0 days. Everyones eyes turn to stare and I get a few looks of sympathy. And for a moment the fear rose up again.
They quickly put me in a room .... first actually before the tummy-popped induction girls who arrived before me. I'm on the first floor (I think? This place is huge) .... room B11. After seven thousand consent forms and admissions papers, they started an IV of fluids and gave me my first betamethazone shot (steroid). James had run out searching for some dinner when they did those .... and with the steriod shot I literally had to turn my head and bite down into my pillow to keep from screaming. That pain was horrific. I remembered from Gracie's pregnancy that those hurt badly; but time had erased the memory of just how bad they really were. Guess that's a good thing really. I have to get one more tomorrow night and then I'm done with those.
My other meds have pretty much stayed the same: I'm getting my Lovenox shots every 24hours, my 17P shot on Friday, aspirin, and all the rest. They've also added terbutaline shots when my contractions get too frequent, but so far they haven't been bad.
The plan at this point is to keep me here at least until Friday. The midwife came by earlier tonight and said quite honestly she has no idea how long I will be here .... could go home as early as Friday or could have to stay for another 10 weeks. It all depends on what happens in the next two days. On Friday Dr. Mann will come by to give me another ultrasound and re-measure everything. Based on what she sees she will make the judgement call at that time.
I have two doctors coming by tomorrow - one is Dr. Mann's partner and the other is Dr. Garcia's partner. Then Mann and Garcia will both come on Friday.
I was given an Ambien about 25 min ago (my first one ever, little nervous about how that will work out!) .... so I'm praying it will turn my brain off for the night and help me rest. I had to beg James to leave and go home to sleep in a real bed instead of this pathetic chair-thingy. He has refused all night but finally about an hour ago agreed. He got up at 4am this morning to drive his mother to Piedmont for an upper-GI test, so he is running on empty. Praying he gets some good rest tonight too, he sure needs it.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Viablility: YES! Bedrest: NO!
So today was a day of good news/bad news. Which should I report first? Hmmm.
Good news: I have offically reached the all-important, super-vital milestone known as fetal viability. This is the gestational point in pregnancy at which doctors declare that a baby has a chance of long-term survival if born early. Most doctors will not intervene to save a baby before this point.
I am praising God for the miracle of 24 weeks! He alone has provided me with a very highly-skilled team of expert doctors, given us the right medicines, and strengthened my body for the journey.
I was thrilled to head back to see Dr. Mann today (perinatologist), for another ultrasound and our weekly pow-wow. I've been especially nervous these last few weeks, knowing that the cervix was starting to show signs of effacement (thinning) between weeks 16-18. During that time, my cervix thinned from 4.0 cm to 3.5cm, but has stayed put since then.
Which brings me to the bad news: At today's measurement, the cervix is down to 2.8 cm. And there's more: polyhydramnios. This is a fancy word meaning there's too much amniotic fluid surrounding the baby. Dr. Mann explained that this is a major problem because all that fluid causes additional pressure on the cervix, causing it to thin even more. Excess fluid alone can cause pre-term labor and delivery. Added to the fact that I already have a previous history of preterm, am continuing to have frequent contractions, and now a very thin cervix ..... it's an enormous concern to my doctors.
She explained that polyhydramnios can be caused by different things: 2/3 of the time it's "idopathic", which means no known reason. About 15% of the time it indicates gestational diabetes in the mother. In the remaining cases it can be caused by a baby with birth defects, or any of the trisomies. At this point she is feeling confident that I fall into the 2/3 category, for whom this happens "just because". I will have my diabetes screening in two days, so we should be able to rule that out soon. And they have already checked the baby's anatomy top to bottom a million times, but she spent extra time double-checking his heart again today just in case. She reports all looks fine and she sees no indication of any defects.
Dr. Mann then proceeded to tell me the word I've been dreading to hear since this all began: Bedrest. I knew I was gonna end up here at some point, so it's not like it's a surprise or anything .... I was just really hoping we'd get much further along before we had to deal with this. With Isaac and Gracie both I was on bedrest about 6weeks each time. And I nearly lost my mind being cooped up like that! If we make it to the end this time it would mean SIXTEEN weeks of bedrest. Seriously a marathon. They may have to put me in a rubber room sometime around week ten or so.
I am trying not to panic. The doctors keep telling me that as long as the cervix stays above 2.0 cm then it's not time to freak out. I would be lying if I said I wasn't full of fear ... I am. But I'm trying my best to fight it and not let it paralyze me. Of course I will do everything within my own power to keep this little guy inside and healthy for as long as the Lord allows. And my doctor's have all assured me they will do everything humanly possible on their end. I am confident in their skill and I am grateful for the excellent top-notch care they are providing me. I guess the challenge once again becomes accepting the fact that this is out of our hands for the most part: God and God alone will decide the day and time that our little boy will come into the world. I am trying to take comfort in knowing that He already knows the time, and He already has the details worked out. Being the kind of person that needs to control things, of course this is quite hard.
Dr. Mann has put me on a 72-hour course of Indocin which we are hoping will accomplish two things: (1) slow contractions and (2) reduce the amount of amniotic fluid. I was on this medication back during the chaos with Isaac, so I'm quite familiar with it and I have high hopes that it will help this time. It can only be taken for 72 consecutive hours, though, which is the main drawback of this medicine, since longer dosages can result in heart problems for the baby. I will take my first dose tonight as soon as James gets home and has a chance to run to the pharmacy for me.
Aaaaaand so ..... the rollercoaster ride picks up speed ........
Good news: I have offically reached the all-important, super-vital milestone known as fetal viability. This is the gestational point in pregnancy at which doctors declare that a baby has a chance of long-term survival if born early. Most doctors will not intervene to save a baby before this point.
I am praising God for the miracle of 24 weeks! He alone has provided me with a very highly-skilled team of expert doctors, given us the right medicines, and strengthened my body for the journey.
I was thrilled to head back to see Dr. Mann today (perinatologist), for another ultrasound and our weekly pow-wow. I've been especially nervous these last few weeks, knowing that the cervix was starting to show signs of effacement (thinning) between weeks 16-18. During that time, my cervix thinned from 4.0 cm to 3.5cm, but has stayed put since then.
Which brings me to the bad news: At today's measurement, the cervix is down to 2.8 cm. And there's more: polyhydramnios. This is a fancy word meaning there's too much amniotic fluid surrounding the baby. Dr. Mann explained that this is a major problem because all that fluid causes additional pressure on the cervix, causing it to thin even more. Excess fluid alone can cause pre-term labor and delivery. Added to the fact that I already have a previous history of preterm, am continuing to have frequent contractions, and now a very thin cervix ..... it's an enormous concern to my doctors.
She explained that polyhydramnios can be caused by different things: 2/3 of the time it's "idopathic", which means no known reason. About 15% of the time it indicates gestational diabetes in the mother. In the remaining cases it can be caused by a baby with birth defects, or any of the trisomies. At this point she is feeling confident that I fall into the 2/3 category, for whom this happens "just because". I will have my diabetes screening in two days, so we should be able to rule that out soon. And they have already checked the baby's anatomy top to bottom a million times, but she spent extra time double-checking his heart again today just in case. She reports all looks fine and she sees no indication of any defects.
Dr. Mann then proceeded to tell me the word I've been dreading to hear since this all began: Bedrest. I knew I was gonna end up here at some point, so it's not like it's a surprise or anything .... I was just really hoping we'd get much further along before we had to deal with this. With Isaac and Gracie both I was on bedrest about 6weeks each time. And I nearly lost my mind being cooped up like that! If we make it to the end this time it would mean SIXTEEN weeks of bedrest. Seriously a marathon. They may have to put me in a rubber room sometime around week ten or so.
I am trying not to panic. The doctors keep telling me that as long as the cervix stays above 2.0 cm then it's not time to freak out. I would be lying if I said I wasn't full of fear ... I am. But I'm trying my best to fight it and not let it paralyze me. Of course I will do everything within my own power to keep this little guy inside and healthy for as long as the Lord allows. And my doctor's have all assured me they will do everything humanly possible on their end. I am confident in their skill and I am grateful for the excellent top-notch care they are providing me. I guess the challenge once again becomes accepting the fact that this is out of our hands for the most part: God and God alone will decide the day and time that our little boy will come into the world. I am trying to take comfort in knowing that He already knows the time, and He already has the details worked out. Being the kind of person that needs to control things, of course this is quite hard.
Dr. Mann has put me on a 72-hour course of Indocin which we are hoping will accomplish two things: (1) slow contractions and (2) reduce the amount of amniotic fluid. I was on this medication back during the chaos with Isaac, so I'm quite familiar with it and I have high hopes that it will help this time. It can only be taken for 72 consecutive hours, though, which is the main drawback of this medicine, since longer dosages can result in heart problems for the baby. I will take my first dose tonight as soon as James gets home and has a chance to run to the pharmacy for me.
Aaaaaand so ..... the rollercoaster ride picks up speed ........
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Major Breakthrough
Today marks 22weeks. Getting this far with my sanity in tact has required quite a feat of mental gymnastics. Mostly it's meant completely distancing myself from the baby and consciously not allowing myself to bond with him. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that, but it is the truth.
I am a planner by nature. The type A-personality, control-freak kind of person who over-plans and over-analyzes every big event in life. With my other pregnancies, I indulged in all the fun planning practically 10 minutes after peeing on the pregnancy test! I bought every baby book that Borders carried, poured through all the baby name websites searching for just the right choice, researched every detail about breastfeeding, excitedly created baby registries, and spent endless hours designing the perfect nursery.
With Gracie, all the planning and preparation paid off. With Isaac, not so much. Coming home to a room of baby things when you no longer have a baby ..... well that's just torture. It's been over two years, and I haven't been able to even *look* at that room since then. Staring at the empty crib sitting there, and envisioning how it should have looked with the perfect shade of blue on the walls, the softest chenille bumper pads and rich silk drapes .... it was all more than my heart could handle. So, I did what any weak-minded grieving mother would do: I shut the door and simply refused to deal with it. Every now and then we would open the door, just long enough to throw in a box of outgrown clothes waiting to be donated, or an empty crate we needed to dispose of. It became a quasi-storage room really.
But always with the door closed.
Since becoming pregnant again, I have instinctively made no plans. People will excitedly ask me things like, "have you picked out a name?", "are you gonna paint the room blue?", "when will you have a baby shower?" ..... each time I can only smile and shrug my shoulders. No plans. No names. No nursery decor. No showers. I simply can not bring myself to do it. I am too afraid.
But something changed last night. I couldn't sleep. I literally laid in bed, wide awake, ALL NIGHT long. My brain was running a million miles an hour and I couldn't figure out a way to turn it off. I was overcome with a feeling of guilt for refusing to bond with an innocent baby. *My* baby. And suddenly an urgent need flooded me: a need to make up for lost time. I laid there, desperate to fall asleep, until about 5:00am. At that point I finally gave up trying. I quietly tip-toed out of bed, walked across the hall to the dreaded room, and opened the door.
Then, I did something even more heroic: I sat down right in the middle of those 4-foot stacks of boxes, and I began cleaning. You should have seen James' face when he woke up a few hours later for work and found me there.
For nearly twelve hours I have sorted, organized, and disposed of the mess .... all the while convincing myself that it's way past time I get over it. It was a bit like a 12-hour pep talk inside my head: I can't let fear rob me of any more of my pregnancy ... This is supposed to be a joyous and magical experience ... I have to believe that we're going to get a happy ending this time.
After much pondering, I've decided that this is truly a leap of faith. And today I take my first little hop.
By the end of the day, I had packed up TWELVE very heavy boxes and bags of things to donate. By some miracle, I managed to drag them all downstairs and load them in my car without going into pre-term labor. Then Gracie and I drove down to Goodwill and passed it all off.
I'm now feeling quite exhausted, having done all this activity on zero hours of sleep. But I'm also feeling incredibly relieved. Today I've purged equal amounts of material junk and emotional junk.
It feels good.
I am a planner by nature. The type A-personality, control-freak kind of person who over-plans and over-analyzes every big event in life. With my other pregnancies, I indulged in all the fun planning practically 10 minutes after peeing on the pregnancy test! I bought every baby book that Borders carried, poured through all the baby name websites searching for just the right choice, researched every detail about breastfeeding, excitedly created baby registries, and spent endless hours designing the perfect nursery.
With Gracie, all the planning and preparation paid off. With Isaac, not so much. Coming home to a room of baby things when you no longer have a baby ..... well that's just torture. It's been over two years, and I haven't been able to even *look* at that room since then. Staring at the empty crib sitting there, and envisioning how it should have looked with the perfect shade of blue on the walls, the softest chenille bumper pads and rich silk drapes .... it was all more than my heart could handle. So, I did what any weak-minded grieving mother would do: I shut the door and simply refused to deal with it. Every now and then we would open the door, just long enough to throw in a box of outgrown clothes waiting to be donated, or an empty crate we needed to dispose of. It became a quasi-storage room really.
But always with the door closed.
Since becoming pregnant again, I have instinctively made no plans. People will excitedly ask me things like, "have you picked out a name?", "are you gonna paint the room blue?", "when will you have a baby shower?" ..... each time I can only smile and shrug my shoulders. No plans. No names. No nursery decor. No showers. I simply can not bring myself to do it. I am too afraid.
But something changed last night. I couldn't sleep. I literally laid in bed, wide awake, ALL NIGHT long. My brain was running a million miles an hour and I couldn't figure out a way to turn it off. I was overcome with a feeling of guilt for refusing to bond with an innocent baby. *My* baby. And suddenly an urgent need flooded me: a need to make up for lost time. I laid there, desperate to fall asleep, until about 5:00am. At that point I finally gave up trying. I quietly tip-toed out of bed, walked across the hall to the dreaded room, and opened the door.
Then, I did something even more heroic: I sat down right in the middle of those 4-foot stacks of boxes, and I began cleaning. You should have seen James' face when he woke up a few hours later for work and found me there.
For nearly twelve hours I have sorted, organized, and disposed of the mess .... all the while convincing myself that it's way past time I get over it. It was a bit like a 12-hour pep talk inside my head: I can't let fear rob me of any more of my pregnancy ... This is supposed to be a joyous and magical experience ... I have to believe that we're going to get a happy ending this time.
After much pondering, I've decided that this is truly a leap of faith. And today I take my first little hop.
By the end of the day, I had packed up TWELVE very heavy boxes and bags of things to donate. By some miracle, I managed to drag them all downstairs and load them in my car without going into pre-term labor. Then Gracie and I drove down to Goodwill and passed it all off.
I'm now feeling quite exhausted, having done all this activity on zero hours of sleep. But I'm also feeling incredibly relieved. Today I've purged equal amounts of material junk and emotional junk.
It feels good.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
It's official
Safe to say my brain has been going a million miles an hour since Saturday.
And of course, being Labor Day weekend (which I have grown to despise since two years ago) ... today was the earliest chance to get into the doctor.
Four full days of obsessive Kristi-brain is not pleasant. That's all I will say about that.
But alas, Tuesday is here and we are officially pregnant. The joy and the fear is all so overwhelming, honestly I have not turned my brain off since I woke up Saturday morning. I have worried my way around every possibility and what type of mountain we could be facing. And my thoughts are so jumbled that I couldn't possibly put it all on paper if my life depended on it.
My emotions are an insane mess. No it's not the hormones. Well, maybe a tiny bit. But mostly its that today is Isaac's 2nd birthday. Quite a day to be all alone at the doctor (James was stuck at work), worrying and wondering about the fate of this new little one. The irony of it all will just slap ya in the face really.
So tonight we will go to the cemetery, and grieve for the child we lost, while we simultaneously rejoice that we now have another.
The whole thing is so mixed up I seriously can not wrap my brain around it.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
The calm before the storm ...
Today my mind is racing, in true typical Kristi-style. That familiar anxious feeling - the heavy ache in my chest - is creeping over me. I've had lots of practice over the last year and a half dealing with this feeling. We've been through so many ups and downs (well, okay, maybe more than our fair share of downs!) over the last eighteen months .... that the anxiety almost seems like the norm these days. I've learned lots of little tricks to help me deal with these feelings when they start to overwhelm me: deep breathing, praying, shopping(!!), reading, etc, etc, etc. One of the things that has helped me the most during my emotional meltdowns is talking. Not the chit-chatty stuff ... I mean REALLY talking. About everything I'm feeling: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Getting it all out on the table has been so therapeudic for me in the past. And many times since our ordeal began I've had a near-obsessive NEED to TALK ABOUT IT.
This method of coping has served to cause some major issues from time to time among those people close to me, who are the unfortunate recipients of my constant emotional babble. I understand that must be hard for my loved ones! Some have tried to be supportive, and others not-so-much. But very early into my grieving period I began to feel like a major burden on some of my loved ones. So I began seeking out alternative ways of fulfilling my need to talk through my emotions. I joined an online support group, full of other fabulous women who had endured the same pain that I had ... women who had that same obsessive need to VENT. Turns out we are really good for eachother!! I thank God for finding this small circle of women who I now call my *friends*, they have been my lifeline on many days. Another way I have learned to satisfy my need to cope is through writing. Never considered myself much of a "writer" before ... but I've learned that doing so can really soothe a tattered soul without burdening those you love with your emotional junk. And SO..... here I am: writing. The need just overcame me today so strongly that I suddenly created a blog profile and began typing. But why, why, WHY, you may be wondering, would I be feeling so anxious at this moment?? It's because of the big secret that I've only shared with one person (outside of my "BabyAngels" group, that is).....
James and I are trying to have a baby.
Phew, there it is. One sentence, so exciting, and yet scary as all @*%* at the same time! We haven't been "trying" long ... this month was our first attempt in fact (TMI, I know, sorry!) ... but apparently it's been long enough for my annoying personality traits to step in, and so begins my worry process. James is gone today picking up a goat (ask me again after Christmas and I'll explain why!) ... and so as Gracie and I sit here watching "Woody Woodpecker" (her new favorite), I'm suddenly compelled to write. Again. Since I have a feeling I'll been doing a lot of writing over the next 9 months (God willing), I decided a blog would be a good idea. I have no idea if anyone besides me will ever read it, or if I'll ever even INVITE anyone to read it for that matter. But right now I'm needing a personal place to unload all of my emotions - the excitement, the worry, the paralyzing fear .... especially knowing that in the months to come (God willing) there will be many more emotions which surface.
At this point it's too early for James and I to know if our "efforts" (*wink, wink*) this month were successful in producing a baby. We are hoping to know for sure in the next day or so. We are both so giddy with excitement and anticipation that we can hardly see straight! But the practical part of me is stepping in today and taking stock of just how hard this is going to be, whenever it happens. James and I are not naive - we've been through the preconception consultations with all the specialists, we've read the statistics, we've analyzed all the potential outcomes, and we know without a doubt that with another pregnancy we will face a MOUNTAIN of emotional, physical, and spiritual difficulties. For a very long time we were too consumed with fear to even consider trying again. But as time has passed we've slowly found ourselves at the point where the desire for another child now outweighs our fear of what we'll endure in order to get there. James, in fact, is so giddy with excitement, he's been on cloud nine since we made our decision to try again. I think he's going with the "let's not think about it" approach. That works well for him.
But me .... well, I was once a biology major. Despite my sometimes emotional and sensitive nature, I'm actually quite analytical and fact-based in my line of thinking. I need scientific studies, I need statistics, I need raw data. I need to read an article by some obstetrical genius proving that a woman with my medical history can have a perfectly normal healthy pregnancy. No, I haven't begun reading cover to cover The New England Journal of Medicine in my spare time yet, but I'm close. For months I have scoured hundreds of articles detailing all the risks and possibilities, I've made lists and asked so many questions that my dear doctors have begun joking that I'm 3/4 of the way done with my medical degree at this point. My former obstitrician even told me she'd give me a job working at her practice as an OB-educator. I think she was only half kidding. I've even dubbed myself an "info-maniac". It's that OCD part of my personality which I try to control, but in situations like this I actually find comfort in having ALL the information. It's the unknown I can't handle.
So, there's risks. Every pregnancy has risks. How bad can they be, you ask? Well, some background: I have a history of pre-term labor (PTL), marginal placenta previa, grade 3 placental abruption, and last year was diagnosed with heterozygous type III Protein S Deficiency. With a subsequent pregnancy, these are the risks according to all my doctors. With the first two, they've attempted to quantify my risks, with all the rest they will only tell me "increased risk" or "high risk":
1. PTL and/or another pre-term birth: 25%
2. Another abruption: 17%-20%
3. Placental previa
4. IUGR (Intra-uterine growth restriction)
5. Pre-eclampsia, common for women w/ blood clotting issues
6. HELLP Syndrome, a very severe form of pre-e
7. Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation (DIC)
8. Stillbirth
9. DVT (Deep vein thrombosis)
10. PE (Pulmonary Embolism)
There are additional risks associated with the medications I will be injecting during the pregnancy ... but they are much less serious than those above.
Typing that list scares me. Anytime a condition can (rarely) lead to your death, and/or the death your baby, it's scary. But I do believe that God is the ultimate Healer, and my doctors assure us that with careful medical treatment a healthy outcome is attainable. Right now I'm holding on to those things for reassurance. We're either really confident, or really crazy. I'm not sure which. Regardless, I know we're in for quite a roller-coaster ride! But it's like they say: With great risk, comes great reward. If there's a healthy baby at the end of that rollercoaster, then the risks, the fears, the pains and sacrifices ... won't mean a darn thing at that point. It will all be so worth it.
This method of coping has served to cause some major issues from time to time among those people close to me, who are the unfortunate recipients of my constant emotional babble. I understand that must be hard for my loved ones! Some have tried to be supportive, and others not-so-much. But very early into my grieving period I began to feel like a major burden on some of my loved ones. So I began seeking out alternative ways of fulfilling my need to talk through my emotions. I joined an online support group, full of other fabulous women who had endured the same pain that I had ... women who had that same obsessive need to VENT. Turns out we are really good for eachother!! I thank God for finding this small circle of women who I now call my *friends*, they have been my lifeline on many days. Another way I have learned to satisfy my need to cope is through writing. Never considered myself much of a "writer" before ... but I've learned that doing so can really soothe a tattered soul without burdening those you love with your emotional junk. And SO..... here I am: writing. The need just overcame me today so strongly that I suddenly created a blog profile and began typing. But why, why, WHY, you may be wondering, would I be feeling so anxious at this moment?? It's because of the big secret that I've only shared with one person (outside of my "BabyAngels" group, that is).....
James and I are trying to have a baby.
Phew, there it is. One sentence, so exciting, and yet scary as all @*%* at the same time! We haven't been "trying" long ... this month was our first attempt in fact (TMI, I know, sorry!) ... but apparently it's been long enough for my annoying personality traits to step in, and so begins my worry process. James is gone today picking up a goat (ask me again after Christmas and I'll explain why!) ... and so as Gracie and I sit here watching "Woody Woodpecker" (her new favorite), I'm suddenly compelled to write. Again. Since I have a feeling I'll been doing a lot of writing over the next 9 months (God willing), I decided a blog would be a good idea. I have no idea if anyone besides me will ever read it, or if I'll ever even INVITE anyone to read it for that matter. But right now I'm needing a personal place to unload all of my emotions - the excitement, the worry, the paralyzing fear .... especially knowing that in the months to come (God willing) there will be many more emotions which surface.
At this point it's too early for James and I to know if our "efforts" (*wink, wink*) this month were successful in producing a baby. We are hoping to know for sure in the next day or so. We are both so giddy with excitement and anticipation that we can hardly see straight! But the practical part of me is stepping in today and taking stock of just how hard this is going to be, whenever it happens. James and I are not naive - we've been through the preconception consultations with all the specialists, we've read the statistics, we've analyzed all the potential outcomes, and we know without a doubt that with another pregnancy we will face a MOUNTAIN of emotional, physical, and spiritual difficulties. For a very long time we were too consumed with fear to even consider trying again. But as time has passed we've slowly found ourselves at the point where the desire for another child now outweighs our fear of what we'll endure in order to get there. James, in fact, is so giddy with excitement, he's been on cloud nine since we made our decision to try again. I think he's going with the "let's not think about it" approach. That works well for him.
But me .... well, I was once a biology major. Despite my sometimes emotional and sensitive nature, I'm actually quite analytical and fact-based in my line of thinking. I need scientific studies, I need statistics, I need raw data. I need to read an article by some obstetrical genius proving that a woman with my medical history can have a perfectly normal healthy pregnancy. No, I haven't begun reading cover to cover The New England Journal of Medicine in my spare time yet, but I'm close. For months I have scoured hundreds of articles detailing all the risks and possibilities, I've made lists and asked so many questions that my dear doctors have begun joking that I'm 3/4 of the way done with my medical degree at this point. My former obstitrician even told me she'd give me a job working at her practice as an OB-educator. I think she was only half kidding. I've even dubbed myself an "info-maniac". It's that OCD part of my personality which I try to control, but in situations like this I actually find comfort in having ALL the information. It's the unknown I can't handle.
So, there's risks. Every pregnancy has risks. How bad can they be, you ask? Well, some background: I have a history of pre-term labor (PTL), marginal placenta previa, grade 3 placental abruption, and last year was diagnosed with heterozygous type III Protein S Deficiency. With a subsequent pregnancy, these are the risks according to all my doctors. With the first two, they've attempted to quantify my risks, with all the rest they will only tell me "increased risk" or "high risk":
1. PTL and/or another pre-term birth: 25%
2. Another abruption: 17%-20%
3. Placental previa
4. IUGR (Intra-uterine growth restriction)
5. Pre-eclampsia, common for women w/ blood clotting issues
6. HELLP Syndrome, a very severe form of pre-e
7. Disseminated Intravascular Coagulation (DIC)
8. Stillbirth
9. DVT (Deep vein thrombosis)
10. PE (Pulmonary Embolism)
There are additional risks associated with the medications I will be injecting during the pregnancy ... but they are much less serious than those above.
Typing that list scares me. Anytime a condition can (rarely) lead to your death, and/or the death your baby, it's scary. But I do believe that God is the ultimate Healer, and my doctors assure us that with careful medical treatment a healthy outcome is attainable. Right now I'm holding on to those things for reassurance. We're either really confident, or really crazy. I'm not sure which. Regardless, I know we're in for quite a roller-coaster ride! But it's like they say: With great risk, comes great reward. If there's a healthy baby at the end of that rollercoaster, then the risks, the fears, the pains and sacrifices ... won't mean a darn thing at that point. It will all be so worth it.
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