Warning: This post contains lots of TMI info... lots of girly part words and it is my honest very blatant recount of what I've experienced. I share it as a way for me to remember what this experience has been like, to help me keep track of the details since I can't seem to remember anything these days, and to... I pray to God look back in 6 months, while I hold our little baby and be able to give thanks to God again for putting our little miracle in our arms. That is my greatest prayer.
While on the blog I've only posted our weekly progress through week 14, today I'm actually at 22 weeks. I've been feeling kind of guilty lately for not posting more stuff about the kids, what they are up to and all the normal schedule stuff we've been up to. And if I were to give an excuse as to why I haven't, it would be (not because the activities and stuff with the kids has slowed down), it hasn't; its just that the baby and this pregnancy has kind of consumed everything in life as of late.
The truth is, this pregnancy hasn't been easy. While I've thankfully moved completely past the nausea that plagued me in the beginning, I've unfortunately had a few complications (scares) that have caused additional stress and worry. In the coming weeks you will see that I've been faced with a couple scares of bleeding. From my very first visit the doctor shared with me symptoms I should never ignore and always call their office to share. The first thing she shared was if I have bleeding. I have O negative blood type and while I don't know the medical specifics of exactly what can happen, I do know that I have to have shots of Rogam to prevent my body from rejecting the baby. Bleeding is a primary sign of rejection so she very clearly told me to call if I have any of those symptoms. Unfortunately a few weeks ago, I experienced my first scare. The office was wonderful and within an hour of me calling had me come in, where they performed an ultrasound to check on the baby. Thank God everything was okay and they couldn't identify where the spotting was coming from. I received my shot of Rogam was sent home and told to rest.
My version of resting, with being the mother of three very active children, isn't probably the best definition of resting but I did try to take it easy. Jarrett's been very supportive, often coming home early to help with the kids, picking up dinner so I don't have to worry about making something and taking the lead with the responsibilities of the kids.
I was hoping that my one scare was all I'd have to experience in these next 5 or so months, but unfortunately that hasn't been the case. It seems like weekly I've continue to have bleeding/spotting and at around 19 I started having regular contractions. Nothing painful but continuous contractions and cramping. At one of my now weekly appointments, my doctor told me she wanted me to start taking Advil to try and give my uterus a break and allow it to relax. Wonderfully the medicine worked amazingly well and after taking it I quickly realized my contractions were much more frequent than I was even realizing. My doctor told me that while the medicine wouldn't hurt the baby, one side effect was that it could degree the amount of amniotic fluid around the baby. To make sure things were okay, I was going to have to start having weekly ultrasounds.
Then I got to go to Iowa. I was so excited for my trip to see my family knowing it would be the last trip I take this year. I had such a wonderful time in Iowa, getting to spend time with my new niece and nephew, getting to attend my brother's wedding and my other sister's bridal shower. And getting to see my parents. While I was there, I really didn't feel like I was being "too active" but yet again my body told me otherwise. On Saturday morning during my trip I woke up to find that I was again spotting and having regular contractions. I stressed about it all day while following the same instructions my doctor had given me the time before... take 600mg Advil every 6 hours, increase your water intake, and rest (have limited mobility). That day I laid on my sister's couch pretty much the entire day. I debated if I should go to the doctor to get the shot of Rogam (this would have been my 4th shot)- most women with O negative blood type get it twice throughout their entire pregnancy. I told myself if I was still having symptoms the next morning I'd go in. The next morning, I was. With my mom and sister's extra nudge I went to the ER to make sure everything was okay. I was now 20 weeks along.
When I arrived at the hospital in my hometown, they immediately sent me straight to the OB unit where two nurses greeted me. They were very friendly and got me all set up right away. The paged the doctor (who wasn't actually even at the hospital- I'm from a small town) and gave me instructions for what they wanted me to do prior to him getting there. I felt so many different emotions lying in the birthing room. To my left was the incubator bed they put the baby in after birth and in front of me was a pain chart mothers use when in labor. I pictured what it must have been like for my mom to give birth in this exact same hospital and while I was excited to see what an actual labor and delivery room looks like, I did NOT want to be there at only half way through my pregnancy.
About an hour after I arrived the doctor came into my room. He was a young, nice looking physician probably a year or two younger than me. He was very nice, and asked me about myself, about Arizona and what brought me to Iowa before jumping into the reason for my visit. When I told him this was my first pregnancy but this baby will be our fourth child he shared he was a father of four as well. He then said, "I'm sorry you had to wait a bit for me, I was actually teaching Sunday school to my son's class." His friendly bedside manner immediately made me felt at ease. He shared that the baby's heartbeat looked good and while they didn't have an ultrasound machine his best educated guess was that my contractions and spotting was coming from a UTI they picked up in my urine test. He gave me the start of some antibiotics (being that we do not have any pharmacy open in town on Sundays) and he told me to follow up with my OB the following morning as I headed back to Arizona. He also told me if the symptoms changed, got worse or if I had any questions, not to hesitate to call or come back in. While scary to have yet another episode of bleeding, he calmed my nerves, provided reassurance and made me feel glad that I had come in. With my fourth shot of Rogam in my back side I was on my way to my sister's bridal shower with 45 minutes to spare.
The following day, after I got back to Arizona, I went into see my OB who examined me and said the baby was doing fine, my cervix was still long and the way they want it to be and that in the couple of days I had taken the antibiotic my UTI was clearing up. My doctor then had yet another very serious conversation with me about resting. She used the word BED REST. She said, Angie, while you think you might not be doing nearly as much as you want to, these are signs your body is stressed and you need to be doing less. While we know bed-rest is not something you want to do, if we have to we can prescribe that. She said, you are a working mom with three children. Think about your activity level compared to a first time mom without any children. She then went onto clarify, there are some women in their pregnancy that can run a marathon and there are some women who have to be on bed rest for the majority of their pregnancy. Each pregnancy is different and you have to listen to your body... the spotting, the contractions, the cramps, the back pain, these are all symptoms you are doing too much. I want you to have a 10 pound (NO MORE THAN 15 POUND) weight restriction and I want you to be sitting or lying as much as you physically can. This means you are going to have to ask for help.
Hearing her say those words I could tell the seriousness in her voice and the weight of the words coming out of her mouth. As Jarrett sat in the chair next to me sitting on the exam table, I could tell he was thankful she said it. He's been telling me for weeks to rest. I admit, I'm not the best at it. I like to get things done and when I see stuff that needs to be done, it nags at me until I do it. I feel like I'm not pulling my weight, doing my share, keeping up, if I'm not doing what I do. While I'm by no means as productive as half the mothers out there in the world, I'm usually not the kind of person who can sit around for hours. Hearing the doctors orders, I knew I was going to have to let go of the reins even more and just learn to let things go. I was also going to have to learn how to ask for help and be okay with it.
Nana and Papa have been extremely helpful for us in the last few months, helping with our kids in more ways than I can even recount. After the doctors appointment Jarrett shared the news with his parents who it seemed were there immediately after to check in and see what they could to do help. I'm not sure how we will ever repay them but I'm oh so thankful they have and continue to be here.
Since my appointment a week and a half ago, I've really made a conscious effort to just rest. I come home from work and spend most of the rest of my day on the couch, either lying down or sitting. It feels really strange for me and I feel guilty. Of course the kids still need a million and one things but I've gotten better at having them come to me or having them bring me things, so I don't have to keep getting up and down.
And then there was this week. I went to bed on Monday night and I knew I didn't feel quite right. I was still taking the Advil as the doctor prescribed as needed. By 1:30 in the morning, after I had been up every 30 minutes to use the bathroom and had consistent contractions, cramping and back pains, I knew something wasn't right. I spent the majority of the night on the couch (pretty much my bed as of late) and by 4 am I had to wake up Jarrett. My back pain was really bad and I asked him to rub it for me. I told him I thought I had another UTI and I wasn't sure if I should go to the ER or if I could wait until my doctors office opened at 8. By 4:30 I gave up on trying to sleep and went to take a warm shower. I leaned against the glass door and let the water beads bounce off my lower spasming back. I got back out of the shower and went back to bed for almost 45 minutes before getting up for work. As soon as my doctors office opened, I called them and left a message asking to get in.
At 2:00 that afternoon I was sitting in their office waiting to be seen. At this point I had already put the label on myself that I was the "Chronic patient- that always has SOME problem." I hate to feel like a burden and yet that is exactly what I've felt like for weeks- to many people, not just my OB office. The doctor, a new one, came in and I apologized for taking up her time. She, as all of them have done, reassured me I am not a burden but proactive and exactly the type of patient they want to have. After asking me some questions and an exam she said, "Yes you have a bacterial infection, it is good you came in." She gave me a prescription, and allowed me to listen to the baby's heartbeat on the Doppler. "160 bpm", she said, "that's great!" I left feeling thankful that I had recognized the different symptoms and hoped I had found the answer to my new complication.
The very next day (Thursday) I was scheduled for my now weekly, routine ultrasound. This ultrasound was to check the fluid levels for the baby since I've been taking Advil for the contractions. My appointment was at 2 but I wasn't taken back until almost 2:40. I got up on the table, laid down and she started. With 30 seconds of putting the wand on my stomach, she asked, "Are you drinking very much water?" to which I responded, "Yes I feel like it." I could tell something was wrong immediately. Even the ultrasound picture looked different than everyone I had had before... there was no black darkness around the baby. She said, "Your amniotic fluid levels are very very very (I counted all three very's) low. They will probably want to send you to the hospital. I'll be right back." and she disappeared out of the room to go get a doctor. I was by myself, having told Jarrett there would be plenty more pictures to see, and again I wished more than anything he was there. A few minutes later she returned, printed out a couple of pictures showing the one or two pockets (I'm not sure if it was the same one from a different angle) of fluid she found. It was SCARY! VERY SCARY. She asked me to get dressed and that they wanted to move me to an exam room to be seen by the doctor right away.
Immediately my stress level shot up, I sent Jarrett a text, "Scary Dad, baby has no amniotic fluid. They are really worried!" and his send in the 20 seconds I had to update him before being moved to another exam room. as I tried to type additional information, several nurses and the physician was in already evaluating me. Taking my blood pressure, telling me to get undressed again and asking me specifically how many times I had been taking the Advil. While they didn't do anything to insinuate or say it was my fault, I couldn't help but feel I had done something horrible to my baby. I was the one how took the pills, whether I was following orders or not. The doctor was explaining lots of information about the situation but I could hardly focus as the guilt and worry I felt took over. With tears welling up in my eyes, I barely blurted out, "I'm sorry, I feel like I've done something terrible to the baby." to which she reached out her hand to grab mine and said, "No, you were doing what we asked and at the time the risk of having you go into early labor with those contractions, we had to have you take that to give your uterus a rest." I tried my best to gather myself and focus on what she was saying. "We want to make sure your membranes haven't ruptured so I'd like to examine you" At this point I've been "examined" so many times, I feel like I'll be ready for anything when actual labor comes (Let's just hope that's at week 40). The doctor said I want to make sure you are not leaking any fluid so I'm going to go look at this under a microscope. I'll be right back.
In the two minutes she was gone, I tried to give Jarrett and update via text, who was also worried, sending me message after message. He said to have me tell him where I was and he would come meet me. At this point I didn't know if I was going to still be sent to the hospital or what they were going to say, "I told him to stay put until I knew more." And then the doctor was back in the room. She said, "The good news is your cervix is closed and looks long which is what we want. You are not leaking fluid which is great. The reality is, the medication you've been taking to keep your contractions at bay, have caused the baby's amniotic fluid to be dangerously low. We are concerned but I'm not sending you to the hospital at this point. The only way to get the fluid levels back up is to drink lots and lots of water (between 170-200 ounces a day is what we'd like you to drink), to limit your activity (by that I mean lay around as much as you can) and try to rest on your left side for 10 minutes each hour. I want you to monitor the baby's movement and be very aware of how often you are feeling things. Let us know if you don't feel movement. We are going to have you come back next week and we will repeat the ultrasound again. If the levels are still this low, then we will talk about our next measure. Let's just hope all the water you will consume in the next few days will fix this. Until then do NOT take any other Advil. If your contractions get worse or anything else changes call us immediately.
I thanked the doctor over and over and vowed to drink more water than I ever have in my whole life. I came home and sent a text messages to our families, giving them an update and asking them to pray...
" Hi family, I need your prayers again please. I had an ultrasound today to check on the baby and it was very scary. The tech left the room immediately to go get a doctor as they found the medication I've been taking to stop early contractions (which could have sent me into early labor) have caused the baby's amniotic fluid to be dangerously low. Please pray for the baby and that the fluid levels will come back up and all will be okay. Thank you in advance for your prayers."
I'm a big believer in prayers and I believe it can only help. Thankfully our families responded in full force, telling me they had already been praying but would "pray harder", we were in their thoughts, to have faith that God will carry us through and to believe all will be okay. My wonderful Aunt Anita asked me if it was okay to ask Grandpa Ray's sister, Sister Lucia if she and the other nuns and the priory could pray for us. I said, I'd be happy to take all the prayers we could get.
I was/continue to be extremely thankful for all the love and support we've been given with this news. And now it times of scare and complication, the love and support mean even more. I've always been one to try and do things on my own, I'd rather be the one trying to help others, than the one being the recipient of all the help. And yet, I've come to the realization that at this time in my life, its okay to ask for help. I need it. We need it. Whether in the form of thoughts and prayers, being sent from all over the country, or the meals family and friends have dropped off for us, or the house work my mother and father-in-law have helped me with, or the watching of our kiddos from our neighbors, I'm overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support we've received. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay everyone for everything they've done for us. If there's a way to put it into words, I'm not sure I can appropriately express my gratitude, so I'll simply say thank you.
Thank you for easing my stress, for caring for my family better than I can care for them now, and for lifting us up in your loving arms. I am so thankful.
Until next time,
Angie
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