*crickets*
I know, I know. I've been absent lately. Really, it's not my intention, I have just not been able to sit at the computer for very long for about the past week. I bet you all think it's because of the baby - but au contraire, it has been because of the visitors! lol!
We have had lots of people here; my parents, G&H, and Aunt A and Uncle W. I am so thankful for all the help and company they have provided. Because of the full house I really haven't had the opportunity to sit at the computer - much less blog. And by the time everyone is gone for the day I am too darn tired to string more than 2 or 3 words together.
But I am sure you can all forgive me, right?
Things have been great. Little Port is just the most wonderful baby. He has been quiet and easy and oh so sleepy. I know all of that can and probably will change, but for now he is a total dream. I know I haven't posted his birth story yet, but I can tell you that I have been working on it. It will be epically long - I am so sorry for that - but I want to remember every little detail. Forgive me for all the nonsense in between the action.
Port had his well baby check last Monday and he was already back up to his birth weight (well, shy one ounce). I had to stifle a laugh when the doctor told me I could stop waking him to eat every two hours.
Ahhh hahahahahahaaaaa! [ahhhhh, that feels better]
Honestly, unless there is a medical/health reason that a baby needs to eat every two hours on the clock, (for instance with Kiddo - his condition made his blood sugars all wonky for the first few days) then I am a total "feed on demand" kind of momma. We had to wake Kiddo up to feed in the NICU for 4 days and by the time we got him home he was basically trained to wake exactly by the clock. I believe that had a lot to do with his sleep issues. So this time, I have been determined to let sleeping babies sleep - and it seems to be working out well. So far Port has slept at least one 4-5 hour stretch per night, and it has made me a very happy momma.
He cluster feeds a lot. Usually several times a day for an hour or two; taking cat naps in between. Then he will settle into the swing or the bassinet for a 2-3 hour snooze. If I swaddle him tight at night he will sleep peacefully on his back in the bassinet - something Kiddo never did. I am so amazed. Kiddo ended up being a tummy sleeper and worried me for a long time.
Port is a super quiet guy, only getting riled up when he is cold or unhappy about a diaper change. He makes the same cooing noises Kiddo made when taking a bottle, and the more I look at him the more I realize that he and Kiddo are almost spitting images of each other. I will have to dig up some early Kiddo pictures for you all to compare.
If you looked at the pictures I posted, I'm sure you noticed the spots on Port's face. He was, in fact, born with Neonatal Lupus, just like his brother. Thankfully unlike his brother though, Port is in much better condition and has nothing more than the spots on his face. Those will heal and be barely visible as he grows up. We are so thankful that God spared this little one all the trauma that we and the Kiddo had to suffer through this condition. I know that if I hadn't had Port when I did, he may have been the same if not worse off than Kiddo was.
There is so much more to talk about, but once again it is now late in the evening and my body and mind are beginning to close up shop for the night. I must get back to the cuddly squishiness that is my baby and call it a night. I will post more when I can.
Until,
D :)
Showing posts with label Neonatal Lupus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neonatal Lupus. Show all posts
Friday, April 11, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Fragile Heart
So, for two nights in a row now I have been waking up with severe leg cramps. It must be a sight to watch a gigantically pregnant woman hopping around on one foot like some one legged bunny! Thankfully Hubby hasn't been disturbed by my late night jump-a-thon.
1 cm dilated is nothing. I could walk around for weeks like this and no one would bat an eye. Well, I would bat an eye I guess because I only have 9 days left till my due date. But what I am trying to say is that there is no need for anyone to panic at this point because I am not in active labor. I guess I should have explained that before I posted stats on my blog.
Anyway, I am fine, but my poor Kiddo is not. He has been so upset since my appointment yesterday. He somehow got it in his head that yesterday was the day that the doctor was going to take baby brother out, so we have been dealing with random melt downs ever since. Several times he has come up to my belly and yelled "Baby brother come out, come out!!! Mommy, I don't think he hears us." :) It is really sweet, but I think the main reason he wants baby brother out is because I keep telling him about all the people that will come see us when baby brother comes.
Today though has been the worst. A few hours ago he was on the floor in the kitchen painting, and just as happy as a clam. Suddenly he burst into tears and I had to sit on the floor, rocking and holding him for a good 30 minutes while he cried. I think all the tension in the house is finally starting to get to all of us, but especially him. He isn't verbal enough to tell me what is wrong other than that he is sad. He can't tell me why he's sad or how I can make it better - so today we sat there and cried together. He is so quick to anger and upset today; just picking up his toys sent him into a fit of sobbing, and then a split second later a fit of anger. I feel so bad for my poor little guy.
At my appointment yesterday the doctor and I briefly discussed induction. The doc has already offered it a couple of times, but I have turned him down. At this point though, it is worth considering. The baby is almost term, so I have very little to fear about him being ready or able to make it on the outside before nature takes it's course. But I am completely torn for a couple of reasons. First, everyone knows that the more interventions one accepts in the labor and birthing process, the more likely more interventions will be needed and also that it raises the chances of c-section. Of course, if you've been reading this blog long enough, you know how against all that I am and that my wish is to have this baby intervention and drug free.
Don't get me wrong though. I am very realistic here and if there is anything going wrong in the process, I am not above doing anything deemed necessary for the safety and health of both myself and this baby.
But, there is a good argument for induction. My chances of having another baby with neonatal lupus are 25%. Not too bad, but not ideal either. And since no one can predict when exactly (or if) my body will decide to pass along the toxic antibodies that create the neonatal lupus, it makes sense to try to get the baby out before there is that opportunity. Logically, Kiddo could have only been sick inside me for a few short days, and had he stayed longer he may not have even made it. By the time he was born he was very, very sick. And aside from his kidney issues and my pre eclampsia symptoms, we had absolutely no idea that anything was wrong with him until I checked into the hospital and they discovered he was in distress. I had a completely normal pregnancy up until then. Sound familiar? That part scares me like nothing else in this world. And every day that goes by brings on more fear and tension inside me. I asked my doctor to do a Non Stress Test yesterday on the baby just for that reason. I have a feeling that as soon as I start having contractions I am going to be bugging him for another one as well. Of course, Port tested fine yesterday, but I am still on edge about all of it.
So I am thinking that if I don't have the baby by my next appointment I will ask for something to help kick things into action. In the meanwhile, I am researching more natural induction methods. And since both my parents and my inlaws read this blog, I most likely will spare them the embarrassment and not discuss those methods here. ;) But if you are curious, just do a quick Google of natural pregnancy induction and read for yourself.
I want to thank you all for your recent comments and ask that you keep us in your thoughts and prayers for the next few days if possible. I will try to post something every day to keep you all informed. I don't know if the hospital has free internet access, so it may be hard to communicate at that point, but I will certainly have Hubby bring my lap top if they do.
And if you have any suggestions for helping out my Kiddo, please feel free to share those as well.
Thank you.
Until,
D :)
1 cm dilated is nothing. I could walk around for weeks like this and no one would bat an eye. Well, I would bat an eye I guess because I only have 9 days left till my due date. But what I am trying to say is that there is no need for anyone to panic at this point because I am not in active labor. I guess I should have explained that before I posted stats on my blog.
Anyway, I am fine, but my poor Kiddo is not. He has been so upset since my appointment yesterday. He somehow got it in his head that yesterday was the day that the doctor was going to take baby brother out, so we have been dealing with random melt downs ever since. Several times he has come up to my belly and yelled "Baby brother come out, come out!!! Mommy, I don't think he hears us." :) It is really sweet, but I think the main reason he wants baby brother out is because I keep telling him about all the people that will come see us when baby brother comes.
Today though has been the worst. A few hours ago he was on the floor in the kitchen painting, and just as happy as a clam. Suddenly he burst into tears and I had to sit on the floor, rocking and holding him for a good 30 minutes while he cried. I think all the tension in the house is finally starting to get to all of us, but especially him. He isn't verbal enough to tell me what is wrong other than that he is sad. He can't tell me why he's sad or how I can make it better - so today we sat there and cried together. He is so quick to anger and upset today; just picking up his toys sent him into a fit of sobbing, and then a split second later a fit of anger. I feel so bad for my poor little guy.
At my appointment yesterday the doctor and I briefly discussed induction. The doc has already offered it a couple of times, but I have turned him down. At this point though, it is worth considering. The baby is almost term, so I have very little to fear about him being ready or able to make it on the outside before nature takes it's course. But I am completely torn for a couple of reasons. First, everyone knows that the more interventions one accepts in the labor and birthing process, the more likely more interventions will be needed and also that it raises the chances of c-section. Of course, if you've been reading this blog long enough, you know how against all that I am and that my wish is to have this baby intervention and drug free.
Don't get me wrong though. I am very realistic here and if there is anything going wrong in the process, I am not above doing anything deemed necessary for the safety and health of both myself and this baby.
But, there is a good argument for induction. My chances of having another baby with neonatal lupus are 25%. Not too bad, but not ideal either. And since no one can predict when exactly (or if) my body will decide to pass along the toxic antibodies that create the neonatal lupus, it makes sense to try to get the baby out before there is that opportunity. Logically, Kiddo could have only been sick inside me for a few short days, and had he stayed longer he may not have even made it. By the time he was born he was very, very sick. And aside from his kidney issues and my pre eclampsia symptoms, we had absolutely no idea that anything was wrong with him until I checked into the hospital and they discovered he was in distress. I had a completely normal pregnancy up until then. Sound familiar? That part scares me like nothing else in this world. And every day that goes by brings on more fear and tension inside me. I asked my doctor to do a Non Stress Test yesterday on the baby just for that reason. I have a feeling that as soon as I start having contractions I am going to be bugging him for another one as well. Of course, Port tested fine yesterday, but I am still on edge about all of it.
So I am thinking that if I don't have the baby by my next appointment I will ask for something to help kick things into action. In the meanwhile, I am researching more natural induction methods. And since both my parents and my inlaws read this blog, I most likely will spare them the embarrassment and not discuss those methods here. ;) But if you are curious, just do a quick Google of natural pregnancy induction and read for yourself.
I want to thank you all for your recent comments and ask that you keep us in your thoughts and prayers for the next few days if possible. I will try to post something every day to keep you all informed. I don't know if the hospital has free internet access, so it may be hard to communicate at that point, but I will certainly have Hubby bring my lap top if they do.
And if you have any suggestions for helping out my Kiddo, please feel free to share those as well.
Thank you.
Until,
D :)
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Cranky Ole Cantankerous Cow
Happy Saturday Morning to you!
I have been up for a while now, drinking my coffee and chugging water. I was woken up at 4 am again with a mass of pain in my back and thought once again it was a contraction. After going to the bathroom and drinking a bunch of water it subsided so I managed to get back to sleep. However, when I woke up a few hours later the pain had returned and now I am thinking that perhaps it was not a contraction, but rather some sort of kidney thing happening. The pain keeps coming in waves - though keeping my bladder empty and water flowing in do seem to help.
Is that back labor? Would it be all on one side like that?
Anyway, Hubby and Kiddo are still sleeping and I have read through all the blogs and bulletin boards and now I am bored.
And frankly, I am crabby.
I have been much more cranky the past week or so. Maybe it is the pull of the full moon, maybe it is just that the end of this pregnancy is near and my emotions are all riled up, who knows. But I have been quicker to anger, quicker to sadden and quicker to key some one's car when they park crooked in the parking lot.
Ok, not the last one, but I do think about it more. ;)
I can't remember if I was like this with Kiddo. I think I was just all over more of a witch that time.
This pregnancy though, I have been talking to God a lot more, and we kind of have this thing. I ask Him to take away my anger and frustration and worry and you know what? He does! And it is a glorious thing!
Who knew you could just ask?
oh.
Well, I didn't realize it would be that easy.
Anyway, lately I guess I haven't been asking enough or the hormones are just too strong or something, but all I want to do is be cranky and complain about things.
Isn't that sad?
It just seems like there is so much to do, and yet, I can't seem to get anything done. I want to do stuff, but then my mind wanders or I get caught up in something else or I just stare off into space...and nothing gets done. Then when I do actually do something, I manage to hit a road block.
Like with the dang pediatrician. Ugh, that frustrates me. I don't want to have to find someone new. I really don't. And it would be ridiculous to have each kid at a different doctor, so Kiddo has to make the switch too.
Of course, I suppose it could be a good thing considering Kiddo never really took to this pediatrician. But the thing that kept me there was the way he handled all the garbage that went down at Kiddo's birth, and he was the first to actually diagnose the Neonatal Lupus (after my friend Kelley).
And, he let me put up pictures and business cards in his office.
So, I guess I have some work to do. sigh
Kiddo just got up, and in his usual fashion he ran to me, looking through half closed eyes and said in his cute little voice, "Good morning Mommy!!". He climbed up in my lap and snuggled into my chest as he always does, and I got to smell his sweet scent.
He makes the mornings so much better.
Then, Mr. Stinky Morning Breath requested jelly-beans.
eh, why not? ;)
Until,
D :)
I have been up for a while now, drinking my coffee and chugging water. I was woken up at 4 am again with a mass of pain in my back and thought once again it was a contraction. After going to the bathroom and drinking a bunch of water it subsided so I managed to get back to sleep. However, when I woke up a few hours later the pain had returned and now I am thinking that perhaps it was not a contraction, but rather some sort of kidney thing happening. The pain keeps coming in waves - though keeping my bladder empty and water flowing in do seem to help.
Is that back labor? Would it be all on one side like that?
Anyway, Hubby and Kiddo are still sleeping and I have read through all the blogs and bulletin boards and now I am bored.
And frankly, I am crabby.
I have been much more cranky the past week or so. Maybe it is the pull of the full moon, maybe it is just that the end of this pregnancy is near and my emotions are all riled up, who knows. But I have been quicker to anger, quicker to sadden and quicker to key some one's car when they park crooked in the parking lot.
Ok, not the last one, but I do think about it more. ;)
I can't remember if I was like this with Kiddo. I think I was just all over more of a witch that time.
This pregnancy though, I have been talking to God a lot more, and we kind of have this thing. I ask Him to take away my anger and frustration and worry and you know what? He does! And it is a glorious thing!
Who knew you could just ask?
oh.
Well, I didn't realize it would be that easy.
Anyway, lately I guess I haven't been asking enough or the hormones are just too strong or something, but all I want to do is be cranky and complain about things.
Isn't that sad?
It just seems like there is so much to do, and yet, I can't seem to get anything done. I want to do stuff, but then my mind wanders or I get caught up in something else or I just stare off into space...and nothing gets done. Then when I do actually do something, I manage to hit a road block.
Like with the dang pediatrician. Ugh, that frustrates me. I don't want to have to find someone new. I really don't. And it would be ridiculous to have each kid at a different doctor, so Kiddo has to make the switch too.
Of course, I suppose it could be a good thing considering Kiddo never really took to this pediatrician. But the thing that kept me there was the way he handled all the garbage that went down at Kiddo's birth, and he was the first to actually diagnose the Neonatal Lupus (after my friend Kelley).
And, he let me put up pictures and business cards in his office.
So, I guess I have some work to do. sigh
Kiddo just got up, and in his usual fashion he ran to me, looking through half closed eyes and said in his cute little voice, "Good morning Mommy!!". He climbed up in my lap and snuggled into my chest as he always does, and I got to smell his sweet scent.
He makes the mornings so much better.
Then, Mr. Stinky Morning Breath requested jelly-beans.
eh, why not? ;)
Until,
D :)
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Life's a Great BIg Mystery Show
Aww, my heart is so warm today! Thank you all for your sweet comments on my last post. I am feeling much better now. :) :)
Yesterday really didn't get much better. After spewing all over my blog I did feel better, but then later on that evening, as I was cooking dinner, Hubby called to inform me that he had locked his keys in his car when he went for a bike ride. Across town. And at that moment he was sitting in the dark using a stranger's cell phone to call me and he needed me to come and unlock the car. Why oh why do we not have AAA???
The problem was I was in the middle of cooking fish - not exactly something I could stop cooking and cover until later. Plus Kiddo and I were starving - I didn't really know what to do. I didn't want to waste good salmon and yet my Hubby was stranded.... what to do, what to do?
I'll have to admit I was not being a Godly wife. I was mad and frustrated. The day had been so emotional already and all I could do was get angry. Hubby didn't do any of that on purpose of course, but I just didn't see it as anything but an inconvenience to me. I vented to a friend on instant messenger and huffed and puffed for a good five minutes or so and my phone rang again. Hubby had managed to pull off a windshield wiper and poke around in the window until he got the door unlocked. The boy could be MacGyver I tell you.
Anyway, by the time he got home I had cooled off. But I have to say God had a good talk with me when I went to bed last night. Consider me lovingly scolded.
So today was the big level II ultrasound. I have to say it was at one of the most beautiful doctor's offices I've ever seen. They used to be in a ratty old office by the medical center, and boy have they stepped up! Anyway, the doctor was wonderful - very personable, knowledgeable and informative. He listened to what I had to say, really knew what he was talking about and treated me like I actually have a brain in my head (though the jury is still out on that one!). And I am completely thrilled to report that after thorough inspection, the baby looks amazing and healthy and wonderful! Everything is where it should be, the size it should be and functioning properly. He is actually measuring about 4-5 days ahead, as opposed to earlier reports of 2-3 weeks. The doctor was very positive about that because most Lupus babies run the risk of being small. So as long as he stays on track things should be good. He wants to see me once a month until 36 weeks and then every week after that. He also wants me to start taking a baby aspirin a day, extra calcium and flax seed oil to hopefully help delay and/or prevent the onset of pre-e. It's not a proven method, but it couldn't hurt.
The unfortunate side of the visit is that I have to do a couple of tests. The first being a 24 hour pee test. Ugh! I got the wonderful parting gift of a half gallon jug and instructions on collecting my samples for 24 hours. Joy. His parting words were, "just don't go hunting for the apple juice in the fridge in the middle of the night!" Oh the humor! Once the samples have been collected, I have to go to the lab for some more blood tests. Vampires! Oh well, it is totally worth it. But I fear I am going to need a bigger jug.... do they know how much a pregnant woman pees??!? I wonder what they'll do when I walk in with a couple of milk jugs in tow...
I warned you all I would tell you the good, the bad and the gross. Don't act like that. ;)
I have lots of good ultrasound pics from the visit. This boy is not near as cheeky as Kiddo was. He was lounging most of the time during the exam; his little legs were crossed at the ankle and he was using the placenta as a pillow under his head. It certainly didn't stop him from kicking the ultrasound tech a few times though. He's an active little bugger!
So if you want some stats on lupus, heartblock, preeclampsia and second pregnancies I can give you a few. For pre-e, a first pregnancy woman has about a 15% chance of developing it overall. If you add Lupus to that the chances multiply by 6. So, it was inevitable that I had pre-e the first time. The second time around (if the father of the baby is the same) the normal chances are about 5%. A woman with Lupus on her second pregnancy (with the same father) is again multiplied by 6 - so about 30%. If the father is different the second time around, the normal percentage is again 30% and with Lupus x6.
If I do actually have Lupus (which we still are not sure because it is such a hard disease to diagnose; AND I am missing one symptom to actually diagnose me with it) the chance of the baby having heart block is about 5%. The chances of the baby having heart block severe enough to require a pacemaker is less than 1%. Since my SS-A antibodies are severely elevated, pointing to the possibility of Sjögren's syndrome, the chance of heartblock is slightly higher, but I think it still breaks down to less than 1% for pacemaker. Are you confused yet? I certainly am. The point is, the chance of anything going wrong is very small - which is glorious news, but the chance of Kiddo having the troubles he had was very small as well. He was practically a medical miracle if you look at all the "odds". But anyway, it is good to focus on the positive.
So, all in all, Hubby and I are in love with my Perinatologist. He is a great guy and I am looking forward to having him on the "team". Now to find a rheumatologist.... the hunt begins. ;)
Until,
D :)
Yesterday really didn't get much better. After spewing all over my blog I did feel better, but then later on that evening, as I was cooking dinner, Hubby called to inform me that he had locked his keys in his car when he went for a bike ride. Across town. And at that moment he was sitting in the dark using a stranger's cell phone to call me and he needed me to come and unlock the car. Why oh why do we not have AAA???
The problem was I was in the middle of cooking fish - not exactly something I could stop cooking and cover until later. Plus Kiddo and I were starving - I didn't really know what to do. I didn't want to waste good salmon and yet my Hubby was stranded.... what to do, what to do?
I'll have to admit I was not being a Godly wife. I was mad and frustrated. The day had been so emotional already and all I could do was get angry. Hubby didn't do any of that on purpose of course, but I just didn't see it as anything but an inconvenience to me. I vented to a friend on instant messenger and huffed and puffed for a good five minutes or so and my phone rang again. Hubby had managed to pull off a windshield wiper and poke around in the window until he got the door unlocked. The boy could be MacGyver I tell you.
Anyway, by the time he got home I had cooled off. But I have to say God had a good talk with me when I went to bed last night. Consider me lovingly scolded.
So today was the big level II ultrasound. I have to say it was at one of the most beautiful doctor's offices I've ever seen. They used to be in a ratty old office by the medical center, and boy have they stepped up! Anyway, the doctor was wonderful - very personable, knowledgeable and informative. He listened to what I had to say, really knew what he was talking about and treated me like I actually have a brain in my head (though the jury is still out on that one!). And I am completely thrilled to report that after thorough inspection, the baby looks amazing and healthy and wonderful! Everything is where it should be, the size it should be and functioning properly. He is actually measuring about 4-5 days ahead, as opposed to earlier reports of 2-3 weeks. The doctor was very positive about that because most Lupus babies run the risk of being small. So as long as he stays on track things should be good. He wants to see me once a month until 36 weeks and then every week after that. He also wants me to start taking a baby aspirin a day, extra calcium and flax seed oil to hopefully help delay and/or prevent the onset of pre-e. It's not a proven method, but it couldn't hurt.
The unfortunate side of the visit is that I have to do a couple of tests. The first being a 24 hour pee test. Ugh! I got the wonderful parting gift of a half gallon jug and instructions on collecting my samples for 24 hours. Joy. His parting words were, "just don't go hunting for the apple juice in the fridge in the middle of the night!" Oh the humor! Once the samples have been collected, I have to go to the lab for some more blood tests. Vampires! Oh well, it is totally worth it. But I fear I am going to need a bigger jug.... do they know how much a pregnant woman pees??!? I wonder what they'll do when I walk in with a couple of milk jugs in tow...
I warned you all I would tell you the good, the bad and the gross. Don't act like that. ;)
I have lots of good ultrasound pics from the visit. This boy is not near as cheeky as Kiddo was. He was lounging most of the time during the exam; his little legs were crossed at the ankle and he was using the placenta as a pillow under his head. It certainly didn't stop him from kicking the ultrasound tech a few times though. He's an active little bugger!
So if you want some stats on lupus, heartblock, preeclampsia and second pregnancies I can give you a few. For pre-e, a first pregnancy woman has about a 15% chance of developing it overall. If you add Lupus to that the chances multiply by 6. So, it was inevitable that I had pre-e the first time. The second time around (if the father of the baby is the same) the normal chances are about 5%. A woman with Lupus on her second pregnancy (with the same father) is again multiplied by 6 - so about 30%. If the father is different the second time around, the normal percentage is again 30% and with Lupus x6.
If I do actually have Lupus (which we still are not sure because it is such a hard disease to diagnose; AND I am missing one symptom to actually diagnose me with it) the chance of the baby having heart block is about 5%. The chances of the baby having heart block severe enough to require a pacemaker is less than 1%. Since my SS-A antibodies are severely elevated, pointing to the possibility of Sjögren's syndrome, the chance of heartblock is slightly higher, but I think it still breaks down to less than 1% for pacemaker. Are you confused yet? I certainly am. The point is, the chance of anything going wrong is very small - which is glorious news, but the chance of Kiddo having the troubles he had was very small as well. He was practically a medical miracle if you look at all the "odds". But anyway, it is good to focus on the positive.
So, all in all, Hubby and I are in love with my Perinatologist. He is a great guy and I am looking forward to having him on the "team". Now to find a rheumatologist.... the hunt begins. ;)
Until,
D :)
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Here Comes the Sun
Or, rather, Son, as it were...
I had my doctor's appointment yesterday. It was the day of the big ultrasound. Hubby and I were both nervous going in; one, we of course wanted to hear that all was well with the baby and two, we wanted to find out what we are having. As most of you know, I was really hoping for a girl. Hubby was happy either way; he wanted a girl for my sake but would be pleased as punch with a boy.
We are fairly certain the little naked somersaulter in my belly is a boy. When you do the splits in your skivies, certain bits will show! And unless my baby has three legs we are certainly having a boy.
So there you have it.
In other news, the baby so far looks good. He is measuring BIG. And I don't mean a few days or even a week big, I mean he is measuring anywhere from 18 weeks 5 days to 20 weeks 2 days! (in case you didn't do the math, that is almost 3 weeks bigger than he should be) YIKES! At this rate, I most likely will have a 9+ pound-er, and very likely closer to 10 lb baby! The doctor said, "you do realize the second babies are usually bigger than the first." To which I replied, "you do realize that this one is going to come early, right?" I was way more serious than he knows.
I do like this doctor, but I have definitely decided he is not going to be my OB for much longer. Hubby and I discovered he is very hard of hearing, and I am already having nightmares of being in labor and trying to tell him something and he doesn't hear what I say. No, no, no, no, NO!! That is not happening.
So when Medicaid gets their act together and my "plan" kicks in next month I am going back to my old OB. Therein lies a whole other slew of issues, but we'll get into them at another time.
Another development was the results of my ANA Lysine panel (blood work up) they did last visit. It turns out my Sjogren's (pronounced "SHOW-grins") SS-A Antibodies are off the charts, and the doctor is saying it is possible I have Sjogren's Syndrome. Again, this is where I don't think he is quite understanding things - because elevated SS-A Antibodies are also related to Lupus and we pretty much know I have that. But, sometimes Sjogren's Syndrome can accompany Lupus and other autoimmune disorders. Their symptoms are similar and one can be misdiagnosed for the other and vice-versa. Either way, he wants me to see a Rheumatologist; yadda, yadda, yadda.
Who I really need to see is a high risk OB that specializes in autoimmune disorders. Send me that direction and I am set. What I really need is someone who can hear my questions, and who won't treat me like an idiot when I ask them. *sigh* Again, a post for another day. What I really need is more specialized, more frequent care.
But I realize these things may or may not be an option, and so I have to give my worry and my fear to God and pray that He will watch over me and the baby and take care of things. I pray that my doctor(s) will point me in the right direction and that I will have the strength to speak up for myself and do the bast I can with what I have.
I don't know what the options are for people on Medicaid. I need to do more research. I do know that with my history, current issues and my 1st pregnancy issues that this baby needs to be monitored very closely. His kidneys need to be checked thoroughly, his heart rate monitored and his size watched. I need to be watched closely for signs of preeclampsia starting now. I presented at 20 weeks with the first symptoms last time, and no one caught on until I was already in labor and my blood pressure was dangerously high. I really don't want to go through that again.
All of the issues I had were directly related to the Lupus and the fact of the matter is, this doctor doesn't yet realize that I have Lupus, much less does he seem to be willing to treat it any differently than a normal pregnancy. As much as I would love for it to be normal, it simply isn't, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to this baby because I blindly went with what one doctor says.
So I am eagerly waiting for November; for many reasons - but that is a post for another time. ;)
Until,
D :)
I had my doctor's appointment yesterday. It was the day of the big ultrasound. Hubby and I were both nervous going in; one, we of course wanted to hear that all was well with the baby and two, we wanted to find out what we are having. As most of you know, I was really hoping for a girl. Hubby was happy either way; he wanted a girl for my sake but would be pleased as punch with a boy.
We are fairly certain the little naked somersaulter in my belly is a boy. When you do the splits in your skivies, certain bits will show! And unless my baby has three legs we are certainly having a boy.
So there you have it.
In other news, the baby so far looks good. He is measuring BIG. And I don't mean a few days or even a week big, I mean he is measuring anywhere from 18 weeks 5 days to 20 weeks 2 days! (in case you didn't do the math, that is almost 3 weeks bigger than he should be) YIKES! At this rate, I most likely will have a 9+ pound-er, and very likely closer to 10 lb baby! The doctor said, "you do realize the second babies are usually bigger than the first." To which I replied, "you do realize that this one is going to come early, right?" I was way more serious than he knows.
I do like this doctor, but I have definitely decided he is not going to be my OB for much longer. Hubby and I discovered he is very hard of hearing, and I am already having nightmares of being in labor and trying to tell him something and he doesn't hear what I say. No, no, no, no, NO!! That is not happening.
So when Medicaid gets their act together and my "plan" kicks in next month I am going back to my old OB. Therein lies a whole other slew of issues, but we'll get into them at another time.
Another development was the results of my ANA Lysine panel (blood work up) they did last visit. It turns out my Sjogren's (pronounced "SHOW-grins") SS-A Antibodies are off the charts, and the doctor is saying it is possible I have Sjogren's Syndrome. Again, this is where I don't think he is quite understanding things - because elevated SS-A Antibodies are also related to Lupus and we pretty much know I have that. But, sometimes Sjogren's Syndrome can accompany Lupus and other autoimmune disorders. Their symptoms are similar and one can be misdiagnosed for the other and vice-versa. Either way, he wants me to see a Rheumatologist; yadda, yadda, yadda.
Who I really need to see is a high risk OB that specializes in autoimmune disorders. Send me that direction and I am set. What I really need is someone who can hear my questions, and who won't treat me like an idiot when I ask them. *sigh* Again, a post for another day. What I really need is more specialized, more frequent care.
But I realize these things may or may not be an option, and so I have to give my worry and my fear to God and pray that He will watch over me and the baby and take care of things. I pray that my doctor(s) will point me in the right direction and that I will have the strength to speak up for myself and do the bast I can with what I have.
I don't know what the options are for people on Medicaid. I need to do more research. I do know that with my history, current issues and my 1st pregnancy issues that this baby needs to be monitored very closely. His kidneys need to be checked thoroughly, his heart rate monitored and his size watched. I need to be watched closely for signs of preeclampsia starting now. I presented at 20 weeks with the first symptoms last time, and no one caught on until I was already in labor and my blood pressure was dangerously high. I really don't want to go through that again.
All of the issues I had were directly related to the Lupus and the fact of the matter is, this doctor doesn't yet realize that I have Lupus, much less does he seem to be willing to treat it any differently than a normal pregnancy. As much as I would love for it to be normal, it simply isn't, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to this baby because I blindly went with what one doctor says.
So I am eagerly waiting for November; for many reasons - but that is a post for another time. ;)
Until,
D :)
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Silver Lining
Since I know you are all on pins and needles waiting for an update... ;)
I am happy to report that my appointment yesterday went well. It was overall an interesting experience.
The office itself is really nothing to talk about. It is kind of a hole-in-the-wall; with mismatched, thrown together furniture, a couple of old Norman Rockwell prints in cheap frames on the walls, outdated magazines. But someone takes the time to take care of two pretty ivy plants and a small holly plant; which really add some charm. The office staff and nurse are all extremely nice. I did have to laugh at the sound of one of the girls typing up a patient chart on a real, live typewriter! I haven't heard one of those in years. They still record their appointments in a paper chart; no fancy computer programs here.
It is definitely not what I am used to, but it works for them. The nurse was extremely nice, almost to the point of being annoying because she wouldn't just make a decision.
Nurse: "I need to take some blood, do you want me to take from the right or the left?"
Me: "whichever you prefer. I think most people like the veins on the left".
Nurse: "Well which side do you want then?"
Me: "Oh I don't care, what ever is best for you."
Nurse: "well let's see, ooh, you have a lovely vein on the right. So right or left?"
[insert confused look from me]
Nurse: "Do you want to lie down or sit up?"
Me: "Which ever is best for you."
Nurse: "Well I can do it hanging from the ceiling, so it doesn't matter"
Me: "Now that I would like to see! No, seriously, as long as I don't have to look at it I don't care."
Nurse: "Ok, so sitting up or lying down?"
and on and on and on.... but she is very nice.
The doctor is an older gentleman. He's been practicing for 31 years. This worries me some, in that typically the older docs are more likely to, as my friend so eloquently put it, "cut you from Timbuktu", but hopefully if that is the case, then I still have time to change doctors before the big event. His age did make it frustrating for me though, because he has no idea what Neonatal Lupus is and made me explain things a couple of times before he acted like he *maybe* got it. He ordered an ANA Lysine panel on me (blood work to check for Lupus) in additional to the normal blood work and told me I may have a consult with a Rheumatologist. Then he said "I actually don't think there is anything we can do about the Lupus during a pregnancy". Oh mercy!
Physically he seems like a strong man; I noticed some old man muscle hiding under his scrubs. His face sort of reminds me of an elf - wide in the forehead and very narrow chin, hidden under a way-too-bushy white goatee. But his eyes are kind and twinkly behind his little wire rimmed glasses and in his office yesterday he seemed very personable.
In the exam room however, he is a bit different. Now, I don't exactly expect stellar conversation when someone is inspecting my nether-regions, but, you know, a little "ok, now I'm going to ___" or "you might feel a cold sensation" or something of the like would have made the situation a bit less uncomfortable. At least it was over relatively quickly. To check for the heartbeat, he did a super quick ultrasound. And though I am thankful that I got to see the baby, I sure do wish he had taken the time to let me look a little bit longer. It was like an addiction - I didn't want him to stop looking and I was getting internally furious because he wouldn't quit moving and let me just see the baby move around. Everything looked good as far as I could tell. There is only one in there (as far as I could tell), thank goodness! The baby is measuring slightly larger with a due date of April 1st instead of my chart date of April 6th.
And just for a comparison of my old ob, when I was pg with the Kiddo, every time I had an ultrasound, my ob would be very sweet and wipe off as much of the blue goo as he could before having me sit up. It was a nice touch, especially because the office had warmed blue goo (which you couldn't really feel to clean it off) - instead of the cold shock of the straight out of the bottle stuff. Yesterday, not only did the doc use cold blue goo (which is fine I guess, but the room was ice cold already so it was a bit over the top for my temperature sensitive self) but he squirted about half the bottle on me and then left me there to clean myself up as the goo ran down my sides and into every crevice it could manage. Taking off the goo covered gown was a bit of a feat, and by the time I got dressed and ready to go I felt like jumping in the nearest decorative fountain for a quick rinse. ick, ick, ick!
But - overall the experience was pleasant and thankfully now I am on somebody's charts and when the time comes it will be easier to switch if I need to. My next appointment is in 4 weeks, and he said we will do a full ultrasound. I will only be 17 weeks by then, but hopefully we can find out the sex of the baby.
And I have to say, even if you have seen one before, there is nothing, nothing like seeing a baby moving around inside you. I can't even describe the feeling. There is no word in the English language that defines that emotion. It is the most wonderful thing in the world.
Four weeks is going to go by so slowly...
Until,
D :)
I am happy to report that my appointment yesterday went well. It was overall an interesting experience.
The office itself is really nothing to talk about. It is kind of a hole-in-the-wall; with mismatched, thrown together furniture, a couple of old Norman Rockwell prints in cheap frames on the walls, outdated magazines. But someone takes the time to take care of two pretty ivy plants and a small holly plant; which really add some charm. The office staff and nurse are all extremely nice. I did have to laugh at the sound of one of the girls typing up a patient chart on a real, live typewriter! I haven't heard one of those in years. They still record their appointments in a paper chart; no fancy computer programs here.
It is definitely not what I am used to, but it works for them. The nurse was extremely nice, almost to the point of being annoying because she wouldn't just make a decision.
Nurse: "I need to take some blood, do you want me to take from the right or the left?"
Me: "whichever you prefer. I think most people like the veins on the left".
Nurse: "Well which side do you want then?"
Me: "Oh I don't care, what ever is best for you."
Nurse: "well let's see, ooh, you have a lovely vein on the right. So right or left?"
[insert confused look from me]
Nurse: "Do you want to lie down or sit up?"
Me: "Which ever is best for you."
Nurse: "Well I can do it hanging from the ceiling, so it doesn't matter"
Me: "Now that I would like to see! No, seriously, as long as I don't have to look at it I don't care."
Nurse: "Ok, so sitting up or lying down?"
and on and on and on.... but she is very nice.
The doctor is an older gentleman. He's been practicing for 31 years. This worries me some, in that typically the older docs are more likely to, as my friend so eloquently put it, "cut you from Timbuktu", but hopefully if that is the case, then I still have time to change doctors before the big event. His age did make it frustrating for me though, because he has no idea what Neonatal Lupus is and made me explain things a couple of times before he acted like he *maybe* got it. He ordered an ANA Lysine panel on me (blood work to check for Lupus) in additional to the normal blood work and told me I may have a consult with a Rheumatologist. Then he said "I actually don't think there is anything we can do about the Lupus during a pregnancy". Oh mercy!
Physically he seems like a strong man; I noticed some old man muscle hiding under his scrubs. His face sort of reminds me of an elf - wide in the forehead and very narrow chin, hidden under a way-too-bushy white goatee. But his eyes are kind and twinkly behind his little wire rimmed glasses and in his office yesterday he seemed very personable.
In the exam room however, he is a bit different. Now, I don't exactly expect stellar conversation when someone is inspecting my nether-regions, but, you know, a little "ok, now I'm going to ___" or "you might feel a cold sensation" or something of the like would have made the situation a bit less uncomfortable. At least it was over relatively quickly. To check for the heartbeat, he did a super quick ultrasound. And though I am thankful that I got to see the baby, I sure do wish he had taken the time to let me look a little bit longer. It was like an addiction - I didn't want him to stop looking and I was getting internally furious because he wouldn't quit moving and let me just see the baby move around. Everything looked good as far as I could tell. There is only one in there (as far as I could tell), thank goodness! The baby is measuring slightly larger with a due date of April 1st instead of my chart date of April 6th.
And just for a comparison of my old ob, when I was pg with the Kiddo, every time I had an ultrasound, my ob would be very sweet and wipe off as much of the blue goo as he could before having me sit up. It was a nice touch, especially because the office had warmed blue goo (which you couldn't really feel to clean it off) - instead of the cold shock of the straight out of the bottle stuff. Yesterday, not only did the doc use cold blue goo (which is fine I guess, but the room was ice cold already so it was a bit over the top for my temperature sensitive self) but he squirted about half the bottle on me and then left me there to clean myself up as the goo ran down my sides and into every crevice it could manage. Taking off the goo covered gown was a bit of a feat, and by the time I got dressed and ready to go I felt like jumping in the nearest decorative fountain for a quick rinse. ick, ick, ick!
But - overall the experience was pleasant and thankfully now I am on somebody's charts and when the time comes it will be easier to switch if I need to. My next appointment is in 4 weeks, and he said we will do a full ultrasound. I will only be 17 weeks by then, but hopefully we can find out the sex of the baby.
And I have to say, even if you have seen one before, there is nothing, nothing like seeing a baby moving around inside you. I can't even describe the feeling. There is no word in the English language that defines that emotion. It is the most wonderful thing in the world.
Four weeks is going to go by so slowly...
Until,
D :)
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Silent Night
Ok, after much debate, and in response to Thordora's contest, I am going to try to write out Kiddo's birth story. I have been thinking about it for a couple of days now, and it still brings up so many emotions for me, I don't know if I can do it.
Warning: This is LONG. I just can't describe his birth without recounting the events before and after. It may not be the best or the most well written story, but I can pretty much guarantee it will be the longest!
My first pregnancy. Such an exciting time. Finding out on Christmas day was the best gift anyone could ask for. Of course, my "present" was presented in the form of heaving over the toilet all morning, and a very unstable 4 hour car ride to my parents house. Though it was joked about by my loving family, I never truly thought I was pregnant until a test confirmed it several days after Christmas. Hubby and I were in shock, and I must admit, my reaction was not the best. We hadn't been trying; this was truly God's plan for us, and we were not prepared. Hubby took it all in stride, switching into survival mode and started making plans. I just tried to not throw up every day and conceal my exhaustion and nausea from my coworkers.
Over the next few months we were able to save a bit of money, buy a house, move into it, and get prepared for this amazing life I carried. Despite being fired from my job a few days before my 30th birthday (after my employer found out I was pregnant I was labeled "not a team player") we knew we would be alright financially.
At my 20 week appointment, my ob noticed some swelling in my ankles and feet. Summer was fast approaching and he wrote it off as a side effect of the climbing temperatures and the fact that if something wasn't swimming in salt, I wouldn't eat it! At the next appointment he told me to lay off the salt because my legs were swollen all the way to my hips. By then, my salt cravings had pretty much passed, but I trusted he knew what he was talking about. At 32 weeks, I began to have vision problems. A kaleidoscope pattern would begin developing on one side of my focal range and wash over my eyes until I could see nothing but the geometric shapes it created. A couple of times it caught me as I was driving and though I managed to get off the road before I was blinded, it scared the crap out of me. On one such occasion, I was with my pregnant friend at her ob's office. As my friend guided me down the hallway (because I couldn't see) she asked her nurse what could be wrong with me and she said it was probably seasonal allergies! My ob told me what I was having was a form of migraine headache, and that it was common for pregnant women to have them and not to worry. Again, I trusted his logic.
The amount of swelling I experienced left me looking much like the Michelin Man and by the 40 week mark I no longer had definition in my toes or joints. Because I was pregnant in the Texas heat of August, no one thought it might be anything serious; my blood pressure was always fine and urine samples tested clean. A couple of days before my due date, I began having contractions. Suddenly my dreams of having a natural birth were approaching reality. I had a normal pregnancy and there was really no reason why I shouldn't be able to deliver drug free. At my weekly Wednesday appointment, I told the nurse practitioner I had been having contractions regularly for a couple of days. She kind of blew me off; in that "oh you're a first time mom, you don't know anything" sort of way, but she was concerned that my blood pressure was a bit elevated so she sent me off for 2 hours to walk and see if I could get myself to progress any. My wonderful, pregnant friend was with me as I was afraid to drive while having contractions. We decided to go to the mall together to have lunch and let me walk. Did I mention she was 7 months pregnant with twins? Oh, well maybe I should add that in.
So there we were, my gigantically pregnant friend and my gigantically swollen self, eating Chick-fil-a at the mall. I freaked out the cashier when I had to stoop over for a moment and breathe through a contraction, assuring all the surrounding customers I was not about to give birth right there in the food court. My friend and I joked that we should rent a wheelchair and I could push her around the mall (she was supposed to be on bed rest!). She opted to sit in the book store instead and I did laps around each floor; receiving knowing looks from female sales clerks when I stopped for the contractions.
Two hours later I returned, no progress was made, my blood pressure was elevated but not serious so they sent me home. The np told me that if the contractions (that were every 3 minutes now) began to last for a minute or longer to call the ob on call (my regular ob conveniently went on vacation the day before). I reluctantly went home and began cleaning house; swaying through the contractions as I loaded and unloaded the dishwasher. I could do this. The contractions were not bad at all, and as long as I focused everything went smoothly. That evening they had progressed to every 3 minutes and lasting for over a minute so I called the on-call ob. Again, I was treated like the brainless first time mom and she told me I was probably in pre labor or false labor and that if I absolutely thought it was necessary I could go to L&D to be checked and she would write me a prescription for a sleeping pill. Hubby and I hadn't had dinner yet, so we decided to swing by the hospital on the way to eat.
As I'm sure you can guess, I did not go home that night. The nurse took my blood pressure and ordered me to sit down. Then she tested my urine and after reading the results yelled at me to lie down. I had full on pre-eclampsia and she was not letting me go anywhere! We were shocked, of course, and as I watched the staff hook me up to the monitors and the magnesium drip my visions of a drug free labor were fading. They wouldn't let me walk because of the magnesium. They wanted to monitor the baby for signs of distress. My blood pressure was off the charts. I was soooo hungry and they wouldn't let me eat. I thought for sure they were going to tell me they wanted to take him asap. Thankfully, the ob listened to my pleas and allowed me to rest through the night before any decisions were made. My contractions were still tolerable, I was staying calm and relaxed and trying not to panic. The night afforded me very little sleep. The nurses seemed to come every 30 minutes or so, drawing blood, putting in a catheter, hooking me up to all kinds of things, and the dreaded blood pressure machine put the squeeze on my arm every five minutes. The nurses tried to be quiet but really only one succeeded. I called her Stealth because she managed to draw blood without waking me up! Only 2 or 3 contractions were painful enough to wake me - they induced the flight response; making me wake up as I was trying to crab-crawl backwards, away from the pain and out of the bed. By morning I had only progressed to about 3cm and the ob discussed starting pitocin. I resisted, begging her to wait as long as possible, and she tried to oblige me until Kiddo's heart rate started dropping with the contractions. We agreed that breaking my water would be a good compromise and she left to get the dreaded hook.
In that moment, I panicked. I suddenly remembered my friends warning me that once your water breaks the contractions become unbearable. Several weeks before I had made a deal with myself that if I ever felt I couldn't take it anymore I would ask for the epi; and there would be no shame in that. At that moment though, I really wanted to go without, but my fear was taking over. I asked Hubby if I should get the epi, hoping he had listened to me in the past and would talk me out of it. Unfortunately, he was trying to be sweet and told me to do what I thought was best. Even though I was already dilated to a 7, I got the epidural.
When the drugs kicked in, I finally realized just how much pain I had been in. A strange euphoria set in, causing me to giggle and laugh and talk much more than usual. I experienced tremendous relief; I finally felt like I could breathe and all was good with the world. I called my parents, already in route, and told them something (I don't really remember what it was exactly) that made them laugh hysterically at me. Things seemed to be going well. They broke my water, Pitocin was administered and the contractions came faster and stronger. Before I knew it, and without warning the doctor came in and started putting me in the stirrups. The baby was showing signs of distress, my water had merconium in it and they wanted him to come out NOW. I remember saying something to Hubby like - "I guess we're pushing now" and he seemed as startled as I was.
I pushed for about 35 minutes before his head crowned. The ob asked me if I wanted to feel his head, so they took off my oxygen mask and let me reach down. I will never forget the soft, squishiness of his head, and trying desperately to envision exactly what it was I was feeling. A couple more rounds of pushing and 45 minutes after I started he emerged. Silent....Purple.... And all I heard was the doctor say "uh oh", and they whisked him away.
When she had pulled him up he was facing me. I saw his face; all cheeks and forehead. I remember thinking he looked huge and chubby; though he only weighed in at 8 lbs 14 oz. I was expecting much heavier. They took him over to the warming box to clean him and try to get him to breathe. I kept listening for his cry. The moment seemed endless. The doctor is shouting to nurses to go and get something because I was bleeding too much. It was chaos. I tried desperately to see my baby across the room. Hubby didn't know what to do and I finally sent him over to be with the baby. I stopped bleeding on my own, delivered the placenta and a small tear was sewn. Doctor after doctor came in and looked at my child. I heard them say things like "I don't know what that is. " and "I've never seen anything like that." and I began to think I had birthed something unreal. Then, after what seemed like hours, he cried. So sweet and pure and LOUD! He was mad and letting us know! I kept asking the doctor if I could see him - it was as if in a dream when you are trying to shout and all that comes out is a whisper. They weren't listening to me, ignoring me really, and all I could see was this endless trail of doctors coming in and out to see the baby I still couldn't see. I was on the other side of the room, all by myself. Hello? Um hello? Can I see my baby? What's wrong?
Finally, they wrapped him up and brought him to me. He was beautiful, perfect, alert, and as I thought, all cheeks! And the cause of all the questions - he was covered in what looked like abrasions all over his face. And people pondered...could the merconium have burned his skin? What would cause something like that? Was it a rash? a birthmark? Every one had a different theory. I was able to breathe him in and gaze at him for only a few minutes when the doctor came back in. The results of his blood tests came back - his blood platelet counts were critical, his liver was inflamed and his sugars were all off. He would have to go to NICU for monitoring. The nurse came to get my baby. I could tell it was the worst part of her job; taking babies from loving arms and breaking a new mother's heart. She looked at me with the most sincere look of sympathy, and hesitated to take him. I didn't want to give him up - I had just gotten him. We still needed to get to know each other... but I knew he was better off in NICU and so I reluctantly handed him over. I saw the nurses eyes welling. I knew she was hurting too - he was full term, alert; it seemed so unfair. They took him away from me.
Warning: This is LONG. I just can't describe his birth without recounting the events before and after. It may not be the best or the most well written story, but I can pretty much guarantee it will be the longest!
My first pregnancy. Such an exciting time. Finding out on Christmas day was the best gift anyone could ask for. Of course, my "present" was presented in the form of heaving over the toilet all morning, and a very unstable 4 hour car ride to my parents house. Though it was joked about by my loving family, I never truly thought I was pregnant until a test confirmed it several days after Christmas. Hubby and I were in shock, and I must admit, my reaction was not the best. We hadn't been trying; this was truly God's plan for us, and we were not prepared. Hubby took it all in stride, switching into survival mode and started making plans. I just tried to not throw up every day and conceal my exhaustion and nausea from my coworkers.
Over the next few months we were able to save a bit of money, buy a house, move into it, and get prepared for this amazing life I carried. Despite being fired from my job a few days before my 30th birthday (after my employer found out I was pregnant I was labeled "not a team player") we knew we would be alright financially.
At my 20 week appointment, my ob noticed some swelling in my ankles and feet. Summer was fast approaching and he wrote it off as a side effect of the climbing temperatures and the fact that if something wasn't swimming in salt, I wouldn't eat it! At the next appointment he told me to lay off the salt because my legs were swollen all the way to my hips. By then, my salt cravings had pretty much passed, but I trusted he knew what he was talking about. At 32 weeks, I began to have vision problems. A kaleidoscope pattern would begin developing on one side of my focal range and wash over my eyes until I could see nothing but the geometric shapes it created. A couple of times it caught me as I was driving and though I managed to get off the road before I was blinded, it scared the crap out of me. On one such occasion, I was with my pregnant friend at her ob's office. As my friend guided me down the hallway (because I couldn't see) she asked her nurse what could be wrong with me and she said it was probably seasonal allergies! My ob told me what I was having was a form of migraine headache, and that it was common for pregnant women to have them and not to worry. Again, I trusted his logic.
The amount of swelling I experienced left me looking much like the Michelin Man and by the 40 week mark I no longer had definition in my toes or joints. Because I was pregnant in the Texas heat of August, no one thought it might be anything serious; my blood pressure was always fine and urine samples tested clean. A couple of days before my due date, I began having contractions. Suddenly my dreams of having a natural birth were approaching reality. I had a normal pregnancy and there was really no reason why I shouldn't be able to deliver drug free. At my weekly Wednesday appointment, I told the nurse practitioner I had been having contractions regularly for a couple of days. She kind of blew me off; in that "oh you're a first time mom, you don't know anything" sort of way, but she was concerned that my blood pressure was a bit elevated so she sent me off for 2 hours to walk and see if I could get myself to progress any. My wonderful, pregnant friend was with me as I was afraid to drive while having contractions. We decided to go to the mall together to have lunch and let me walk. Did I mention she was 7 months pregnant with twins? Oh, well maybe I should add that in.
So there we were, my gigantically pregnant friend and my gigantically swollen self, eating Chick-fil-a at the mall. I freaked out the cashier when I had to stoop over for a moment and breathe through a contraction, assuring all the surrounding customers I was not about to give birth right there in the food court. My friend and I joked that we should rent a wheelchair and I could push her around the mall (she was supposed to be on bed rest!). She opted to sit in the book store instead and I did laps around each floor; receiving knowing looks from female sales clerks when I stopped for the contractions.
Two hours later I returned, no progress was made, my blood pressure was elevated but not serious so they sent me home. The np told me that if the contractions (that were every 3 minutes now) began to last for a minute or longer to call the ob on call (my regular ob conveniently went on vacation the day before). I reluctantly went home and began cleaning house; swaying through the contractions as I loaded and unloaded the dishwasher. I could do this. The contractions were not bad at all, and as long as I focused everything went smoothly. That evening they had progressed to every 3 minutes and lasting for over a minute so I called the on-call ob. Again, I was treated like the brainless first time mom and she told me I was probably in pre labor or false labor and that if I absolutely thought it was necessary I could go to L&D to be checked and she would write me a prescription for a sleeping pill. Hubby and I hadn't had dinner yet, so we decided to swing by the hospital on the way to eat.
As I'm sure you can guess, I did not go home that night. The nurse took my blood pressure and ordered me to sit down. Then she tested my urine and after reading the results yelled at me to lie down. I had full on pre-eclampsia and she was not letting me go anywhere! We were shocked, of course, and as I watched the staff hook me up to the monitors and the magnesium drip my visions of a drug free labor were fading. They wouldn't let me walk because of the magnesium. They wanted to monitor the baby for signs of distress. My blood pressure was off the charts. I was soooo hungry and they wouldn't let me eat. I thought for sure they were going to tell me they wanted to take him asap. Thankfully, the ob listened to my pleas and allowed me to rest through the night before any decisions were made. My contractions were still tolerable, I was staying calm and relaxed and trying not to panic. The night afforded me very little sleep. The nurses seemed to come every 30 minutes or so, drawing blood, putting in a catheter, hooking me up to all kinds of things, and the dreaded blood pressure machine put the squeeze on my arm every five minutes. The nurses tried to be quiet but really only one succeeded. I called her Stealth because she managed to draw blood without waking me up! Only 2 or 3 contractions were painful enough to wake me - they induced the flight response; making me wake up as I was trying to crab-crawl backwards, away from the pain and out of the bed. By morning I had only progressed to about 3cm and the ob discussed starting pitocin. I resisted, begging her to wait as long as possible, and she tried to oblige me until Kiddo's heart rate started dropping with the contractions. We agreed that breaking my water would be a good compromise and she left to get the dreaded hook.
In that moment, I panicked. I suddenly remembered my friends warning me that once your water breaks the contractions become unbearable. Several weeks before I had made a deal with myself that if I ever felt I couldn't take it anymore I would ask for the epi; and there would be no shame in that. At that moment though, I really wanted to go without, but my fear was taking over. I asked Hubby if I should get the epi, hoping he had listened to me in the past and would talk me out of it. Unfortunately, he was trying to be sweet and told me to do what I thought was best. Even though I was already dilated to a 7, I got the epidural.
When the drugs kicked in, I finally realized just how much pain I had been in. A strange euphoria set in, causing me to giggle and laugh and talk much more than usual. I experienced tremendous relief; I finally felt like I could breathe and all was good with the world. I called my parents, already in route, and told them something (I don't really remember what it was exactly) that made them laugh hysterically at me. Things seemed to be going well. They broke my water, Pitocin was administered and the contractions came faster and stronger. Before I knew it, and without warning the doctor came in and started putting me in the stirrups. The baby was showing signs of distress, my water had merconium in it and they wanted him to come out NOW. I remember saying something to Hubby like - "I guess we're pushing now" and he seemed as startled as I was.
I pushed for about 35 minutes before his head crowned. The ob asked me if I wanted to feel his head, so they took off my oxygen mask and let me reach down. I will never forget the soft, squishiness of his head, and trying desperately to envision exactly what it was I was feeling. A couple more rounds of pushing and 45 minutes after I started he emerged. Silent....Purple.... And all I heard was the doctor say "uh oh", and they whisked him away.
When she had pulled him up he was facing me. I saw his face; all cheeks and forehead. I remember thinking he looked huge and chubby; though he only weighed in at 8 lbs 14 oz. I was expecting much heavier. They took him over to the warming box to clean him and try to get him to breathe. I kept listening for his cry. The moment seemed endless. The doctor is shouting to nurses to go and get something because I was bleeding too much. It was chaos. I tried desperately to see my baby across the room. Hubby didn't know what to do and I finally sent him over to be with the baby. I stopped bleeding on my own, delivered the placenta and a small tear was sewn. Doctor after doctor came in and looked at my child. I heard them say things like "I don't know what that is. " and "I've never seen anything like that." and I began to think I had birthed something unreal. Then, after what seemed like hours, he cried. So sweet and pure and LOUD! He was mad and letting us know! I kept asking the doctor if I could see him - it was as if in a dream when you are trying to shout and all that comes out is a whisper. They weren't listening to me, ignoring me really, and all I could see was this endless trail of doctors coming in and out to see the baby I still couldn't see. I was on the other side of the room, all by myself. Hello? Um hello? Can I see my baby? What's wrong?
Finally, they wrapped him up and brought him to me. He was beautiful, perfect, alert, and as I thought, all cheeks! And the cause of all the questions - he was covered in what looked like abrasions all over his face. And people pondered...could the merconium have burned his skin? What would cause something like that? Was it a rash? a birthmark? Every one had a different theory. I was able to breathe him in and gaze at him for only a few minutes when the doctor came back in. The results of his blood tests came back - his blood platelet counts were critical, his liver was inflamed and his sugars were all off. He would have to go to NICU for monitoring. The nurse came to get my baby. I could tell it was the worst part of her job; taking babies from loving arms and breaking a new mother's heart. She looked at me with the most sincere look of sympathy, and hesitated to take him. I didn't want to give him up - I had just gotten him. We still needed to get to know each other... but I knew he was better off in NICU and so I reluctantly handed him over. I saw the nurses eyes welling. I knew she was hurting too - he was full term, alert; it seemed so unfair. They took him away from me.
The nurses were sympathetic, but they wanted me to stay in my room. I couldn't see him. Maybe at 11pm they said. Then maybe at midnight. Then, we don't know when, we'll let you know. I lost it. The door closed behind the nurse and I broke down, wailing and sobbing and crying so much I couldn't breathe. All I could think about was my poor baby, all alone, without me in that room. He must have been hooked up to monitors and IVs., he must have been scared. I was terrified. We didn't know what was wrong with him, no one else knew either, and they couldn't even tell us if he was going to make it because his platelets were so low. I felt like such a failure. My Hubby didn't deserve this. He deserved to have a perfectly healthy child, a perfectly healthy wife, and it was all my fault he was having to go through this. Between sobs I apologized to my husband. Bless his heart, he didn't know what to do. I thought my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I was hollow, empty, sad and so guilty. Maybe it was because I used blemish cream while I was pregnant. Maybe it was because I insisted on my daily Dr. Pepper fix. Maybe because I broke that mirror all of this was happening. I was lost.
I cried for so long there was nothing left. Totally dehydrated and exhausted, I collapsed into a traumatic, fitful sleep. The nurses had heard my cries. At 1am they came to get me to see my son. They wheeled me in the wheelchair up to NICU and placed me in front of his station. Just as I'd suspected - wires, needles, IVs - it was all there; invading my poor little one's body to the extent that he could only lie there. They wouldn't let me hold him. They were giving him massive amounts of antibiotics, sugar water and fluids. He could have an infection, he could be contagious, too much stimulation could hurt him; please don't touch him. I ignored them and held his little arm in my fingers. He was so calm, so peaceful - I just couldn't comprehend how anything could be wrong with him.
2 days and about 15 "specialists" later, they still didn't know what was wrong. My friend called me at the hospital. She had been researching on the Internet and wanted to know if I had Lupus. No, I don't think so, but my grandmother does... She had found a reference to a rare disorder called Neonatal Lupus and the symptoms were almost exactly what my boy had. That day the pediatrician came to see him. He suggested they test me for Lupus. We had found our answer. Thankfully, the disease is carried in the mother's antibodies. The rash on his face would heal and in 6 months he would be completely free of it. Completely normal. Healthy.
He stayed in NICU for 4 days. We finally convinced the doctors his platelets would dramatically improve if he was allowed to be with me. We were right. As soon as he was released to my care, his count more than doubled every day. My boy needed his momma as much as I needed him, and we have been practically inseparable ever since.
Here he is one month later. Still all cheeks and forehead!
If you made it this far, thanks for reading.
Until,
D :)
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