remembering, broken hearts and hard truths

I'm not exactly too sure how to start this post off, to be honest. But it's been percolating in my mind for a week now. Just jumbled thoughts and emotions, but no concrete words. So bear with me.

Today is October 15th, which is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I lit my three candles for #WaveofLight in memory of my babies.

It's been an incredible journey, one that I never thought I'd be on. But I am so grateful for the friends that I made through this, and for the love and support I received as I had my two ectopic pregnancies and miscarriage. (You can read about my stories HERE)

We still don't talk about baby loss, or pregnancy loss yet, but we're getting better. I still think it is such a personal thing, and it shouldn't be taken lightly. It's not something that we advertise.  But I have met many others with their own stories, so it's a common heartbreak. But maybe that's why we don't talk about it. It seems... "common". When really it isn't. Having your heart break into pieces, having a part of you somewhere else, having a child you loved and wanted so dearly not with you....how can that be "common"? Even if it has happened to many of us.


I don't know if you saw the amazing photo that DMX Photography had posted on FB a few weeks ago. It was done to support and recognize a family who had lost many babies, and it was just beautiful.  I hope it is okay, but I copy/pasted the photo and what they wrote (because I'm Old Skool like that!):|

My dear and gorgeous friend Kathryn of LittleB Memories came to me with a special request for her family portrait. She and her husband longed for a family picture that showed their whole family of eight, preserving the precious memories of the five babies they'd lost due to miscarriage. This is the final image I put together for her. It took me a few days, this image weighed heavy on my heart, I can only imagine the suffering they endure on a day to day basis. My heart breaks for her and her family.

October is national pregnancy and infant loss awareness month. 1 in 4 is such a heartbreaking statistic...Please take a moment for Kathryn, her family, and ALL families who are suffering the loss of their children. Send them all your good thoughts and well wishes, your hugs and encouragement. They shouldn't have to suffer alone.

“When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses her or his partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there isn’t a word to describe them. This month recognizes the loss so many parents experience across the United States and around the world.”
-Ronald Reagan

Can you think of anything more beautiful and touching to have on your wall? I really had no words. Just incredible. Touching.




I had got stuck in a conversation on a friend's FB wall where she had shared a photo that said that "abortion is more about escaping consequences than "choice"... it takes away the choices of another human being." Harsh words, but true. For the most part, those who commented were in agreement. Many were sympathetic and carried no condemnation, but generally, they felt that those words were honest. But this one woman commented on how it wasn't "that easy", and that it was very judgmental, and how it felt like an attack on women who can be the only one making the decisions regarding their own body. And her comments were very much what the world wants to keep saying.

Abortion is also a very private thing. I've never been put in a situation where I have felt that my pregnancies would be better off Not being. So it's easy for me to say that I'd never consider one, but to be honest, I don't know. (I do remember my friend telling me of her teen pregnancy that she thought of it for a bit. And I can totally understand why! 16 and pregnant? That's not something that many girls dream of for their high school years! Not the most ideal situation. She kept her baby and went through a lot of hard consequences, so it was definitely not an easy thing for her to go through with either. But I understand the difficulties of being in a hard place.)

What made the whole conversation hard was this statement: "Many abortions are performed for pregnancies that are very much wanted but something is very wrong (like an ectopic pregnancy). That woman is getting an abortion to save her life."

I had to stop and reread it a few times. Was she equating my ectopic pregnancies as to having an abortion???

That was difficult to read.

I didn't want to get emotional or spout off words that weren't true, but it stuck with me all night. I even did some google searching on the medication that they gave me in the hospital. I wanted to know what the medical field considered it. But that was a bad move too. Methotrexate is used to stop folate from growing. Does that mean that it stopped the baby's life? It was vague. So I went to bed heavy hearted and praying for the truth and for peace. (I was reminded that a Miscarriage is also considered a "spontaneous abortion" in the medical field, so searching for a clinical term wasn't helpful at all!)

I had no answers and that was hard. I wanted confirmation! I wanted something concrete. I wanted some release.

What I got was the reply my heart begged for.

"With all due respect and compassion, an ectopic pregnancy is not an abortion at all! That pregnancy would never result in a live birth under any circumstances, and would kill the mother along with her baby who already has no chance of survival. That's a medically necessary life-saving procedure." I am withholding the author's name due to privacy, but I believe without a doubt that she spoke God's words to me in that comment. She was a blessing to me that night, and I shed many tears over that.

After two ectopic pregnancies that took two babies and my left tube, to even consider that I had an abortion to save my own life was very hard for me to read. I would give anything to have those babies back! (I can not think of ANY woman who have had ectopic pregnancies that they would consider their procedures an abortion! And I have talked with many!) I remember that when I first was given the shot of medication, that when my heart was breaking right there on that hospital bed, that I felt like I had just killed my baby. (I mentioned that feeling in my original post on my losses.)

But I was reminded that when I was having that powerful drug, and when they were preparing me for surgery, that those babies that I was supposed to carry, the dreams that I had held briefly, did not have heartbeats. That's what the problem was. They had ceased to live. They were just black masses in my broken tube, along with my broken heart, and that wasn't safe. My life was at risk and the medication was done to break down what wasn't a viable life anymore....not due to the medication, but due to the placement of the pregnancy. These babies had no chance. There was nothing wrong with them, but in where they ended up, but sadly there is no way to fix an ectopic pregnancy yet. Maybe one day they will be able to transplant the baby to the womb safely, wouldn't that be amazing!

But an ectopic pregnancy is not an abortion at all!  I didn't chose my life over my baby's. My baby's had already ended. And an ectopic pregnancy is not like a miscarriage either. They are both handled differently and you go through different emotions regarding the loss. I grieved my miscarriage, and the baby that could have been. Somehow telling myself that there was "something wrong" with the pregnancy didn't make it feel any better. But my ectopics had more fear.

When I struggled through the whole memory of my EPs, I was surprised at how deeply it effected me. Deep inside I still ache over these losses. I am very much able to go through life without thinking of these things, and I don't spend a lot of time remembering, and I'm not dealing with depression over them anymore, and I recognize the many many ways that my life is fruitful. But this month, I have been brought back to tears and painful memories.

Strange to think that they would be almost 15, 11 and 5 years old. How different life would be! I look at the beautiful family I have now and I wouldn't trade in any of it! A bit less pain would be nice, but I can confidently say that God does give beauty from ashes! (Isaiah 61:3)

I am praying that if you have loss in your life that you do not feel alone, but that you feel and know that you are cared for and loved. I pray that your heart will heal as your body does, and that you find beauty amungst the pain eventually too. 

Remembering

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I lit three candles for my babies and for my friends.

14 years...9 years....4 years... strange to think that much time has gone by.  (I shared my stories of them last year Here)


I remember them, but I hold those in my heart my very dear friends. The ones who I met during my Ectopic healing and who have become very close to me. The ones who I met during my Reflux years and have shared their hearts and losses. The ones who I know in church, in school, through friends...who all have their own stories and pain.

We don't talk much about infant and pregnancy loss still, but I am thankful for days like these, where we can all gather in support and memory. *hugs* to those who are still hurting and carrying those painful scars physically and in their heart. We remember you today.

My Remembering Story

Today is National Baby Loss Awareness Day. October fifteenth.


With a day that is so important, so deep, I find the name lacking. But how do you put into words the emotions involved in the loss of a baby? There just aren't any.

I remember when I lost my first baby. It was 2000 and I was just about to celebrate my first wedding anniversary with the discovery of my first pregnancy. It was perfect! I was over the moon! I had everything I had ever wanted: a wonderful, loving husband and a baby soon following.  I bought the baby books, I obsessed over magazines, I started to collect ideas for a scrapbook. We told our family right away, that's how excited I was! I even started to write out cards to announce it to family members living across the country. This baby was everything to me.


I remember reading every pregnancy info I could find. What to expect, what to look out for, what to ask your doctor about, what to decide on. I knew it all. I remember reading over the the warning signs as well; the things that could be bad, but I was able to wave it off with a relieved sigh as I had nothing to worry about. I had some spotting, but that's normal. It didn't last anyways. And even at about 6 weeks, when I had such severe stomach cramps at work, where I couldn't even work for a half hour as I sat in the back room in pain and worry, I shrugged off as it never happened again. The days and weeks went by easily.


I remember walking into the hospital for my routine 12 week ultrasound in confidence. I brought my mom and my sister along so that they could enjoy this moment too. Aside from having a full bladder and a non-speaking technician, I had no reason to think anything was amiss. But then it started to take a long time. She moved that wand around my belly in every possible direction, had me move to my sides, trying to get better pictures. Things started to feel concerning when she said that she needed to talk to a supervisor. It got scary when she returned to say that she was going to do a trans-vaginal ultrasound on me. I had never heard of those before! (Coming from a woman who was not sexually active prior to marriage and has lived a pretty tame and pure life --some might say 'prudish'-- the idea of one made me ill. You want to do put what where? It was a horrifying experience. Not that she wasn't gentle or caring or anything, but it was invasive and made me very uncomfortable. If they were to find a way to do these sorts of scans in a less intimate way, I would be very grateful. Many women would be.)  When she left to consult her supervisor again, I knew something wasn't right, and I kept singing a song in my head to keep me from losing stability.


She returned, told me to take a piece of paper to the emergency ward, and that there was nothing in my uterous.


I had no idea what she was talking about. What do you mean there is nothing there? I'm pregnant. I have the tests to prove it. The morning sickness, the sore breasts, the frequent urination that tells me so. I am almost out of my first trimester. Something isn't right.


I remember walking to the emergency ward, and going up to the front desk, totally confused. I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know why I was there. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. All I knew is that my Mom was crying and I was lost. And then a cruel triage nurse tells me, rather coldly, that I am having an Ectopic Pregnancy and there is no baby. Her exact words aren't in my memory anymore, but I remember her harshness and I remember how uncaring she was.


So suddenly, my joy of seeing my 12 week baby on screen was traded with the fear and confusion of a pregnancy that would not result in a baby, but also needed to be stopped.  I remember feeling numb as I got into a gown and had an IV inserted. I remember using my sister's cellphone to call my Hunny with the news, but I don't remember what was said, or how long my mom and sister stayed or what we did to pass the time in the emergency ward. It's all a blur.


I remember trying to be strong, but really I was devastated and I didn't know what to do or say. I wanted to cry and I wanted someone to hold me and tell me that things would be okay, but my husband was just as lost. I remember wanting to throw up when they gave me a shot of Methotrexate in my backside. Not only did it hurt like hell, but my heart crushed then and my life changed after that one moment. That injection left scars that still hurt. I know now that I wasn't killing my baby, but that's how it felt. That I had just given a toxic medication that would save my life (so my tube wouldn't burst), but it was aborting my own child, something that I could not, would not, ever choose to do. And that weighed heavy on me for so long; this guilt that I felt. (Thankfully, later I came to realize that this baby hadn't survived and that the Methotrexate moved the cells out of my tube so that my body could heal. Likely, when I felt the massive cramp at 6 weeks, my baby was already dying and outgrowing the tiny space it wasn't supposed to be in. We just didn't realize that's what happened until 12 weeks.)


It took my body and my heart a year to heal. They say that you can start trying for another baby after 3 months, as it takes that long for you to heal physically, but my periods were so crazy and my cycles kept getting longer and longer and I was a wreck. I fell into a depression where every month was another waiting game to see if we were pregnant again, and every month another let down when we weren't. Suddenly, everything good and perfect in my life had fallen apart and was stolen. (sad way of viewing it, eh? Considering I still had my wonderful loving husband, and I had my supportive family, and I had a great job and caring friends. But when you're grieving and depressed, it's easy to see what you're lacking than what you have, even if you know you have been blessed.)


I still think of her on New Year's Eve. Her due date was 01-01-01. And I was convinced she was a she, and so I named her Lily because it sounded delicate and beautiful.


My story still brings me to tears, even though it has been thirteen years. Wow. She would be a teenager this year! But, thanks be to God, He has blessed me still and my life is full! A year after we conceived Lily, and at our second anniversary, we found out we were pregnant with Abi! And after the first fears were put aside, and we were given an early ultrasound to determine baby was perfectly nestled in my womb and I had gotten past my first trimester, things went by well. What a beautiful gift He gave me when He answered my prayers for a child!


Then along came Kai, and how wonderful is that? A toddler and a baby boy. Life was great!


But then I had my second ectopic. I knew that after having one, your chances of another was a lot higher, but after two healthy pregnancies I thought maybe I'd pass that. Yeah, not so much. The thing is that I didn't even know that I was pregnant!


It was 2005. That was a terribly rough year medically. I was diagnosed with depression, and an underactive thyroid. Gah!


We had just said good night to friends who came over for dinner and Bible study. I had put Abi to bed and was holding Kai and trying to keep him asleep while I played on the computer when I had such incredible cramps. They took my breath away! I managed to stumble out to the living room and told Hunny that the pain was like being in labour with the other two except that it wasn't letting up like a contraction and I wasn't pregnant! He asked if I needed to go to the hospital, but I so valiantly said that it may pass over and I'd be okay. *rolleyes* He called his sister to watch our kids (she conveniently lived below in our basement suite) while he drove me.


I remember thinking it was an ectopic, and telling the hospital staff.  I remember thinking that if it was that it could be dangerous. I'd heard of stories of women who had their tubes burst and they bled internally and almost died (and some have) because they weren't cared for properly. I was so scared of that happening! I was in so much pain that I couldn't even sit properly in my chair in the triage, and I felt so ill, and I had purple-ish brown blood (yeah, not my period after all.) 


When I was finally brought in to a bed, I did my customary pee in a cup for them, and we waited for a doctor. When he arrived, Doctor Brilliant says with slight optimism, "well, you're pregnant!" followed by a pause and a "is this good news?" I looked at him blankly and responded, "not if that's why I'm in pain!" Sheesh. Some people. Since it was around midnight by then, they couldn't do an ultrasound on me since it was closed, so I'd have to spend the night and wait til morning. But since I was in so much pain, they at least gave me morphine. I've said this before, but let me say it again: this is such a strange drug!!! It feels so incredibly out-of-body-like when it takes affect; I have a really hard time thinking that people like this feeling and get addicted to it!!! But it did take away my pain, and I did get to sleep.


The next day, an ultrasound confirmed that I was having an ectopic pregnancy again, so a laproscopy was scheduled for me. We decided that since this was my second, that the Olders were likely conceived and traveled the healthy right tube, and that my left fallopian tube was scarred and damaged; it was in our best interest to remove it.  I was all for that, even though I was a bit unsure of my fertility. I was down to one tube. Would that cut my chances in half? Would that mean my dreams of a large family were gone? I was pleasantly surprised when the obstetrician I met after surgery for my follow up appointment told me that since I had both ovaries, they would both still continue to release eggs, and in the wonder that is our body, the eggs dropped on the left would still manage to make their way to the right tube. How awesome is that???


Turns out it's true! A year later, we welcomed Bryn, and then two years after, Rhys. With one tube too!


Sadly, I did have a miscarriage in 2010 though. That was a tough one. Not nearly as hard as my first ectopic but harder than my second EP. (with that EP, I felt no connection to the baby. No naming, no feelings of gender, and no due date to obsess over. The day I found out I was pregnant was the day I knew it wasn't going to last. I was "pregnant", but not with a baby like the ones I had at home. So this one wasn't as emotional for me as much as it is a part of my story still.)  This pregnancy came at a horrible time, when things were so stressful, when a baby was not a part of our plan, when I did not wish for this baby or long for it. It was so incredibly hard and I spent many tears over it, praying, begging, asking God for guidance. It took a few weeks to finally accept the pregnancy as a part of God's plan for our life, good or bad, when I started to bleed. And that sinking feeling again. The one that tells you that things may not end well. I bled for three or four days, red thick blood that ripped at my soul. It taunted me and threw back all my fears in my face; like a cruel joke. An undesired pregnancy that I came to accept and maybe start to plan for just to have to accept that it wasn't meant to be. What was the use of that? It took me several weeks to get over that. I feel shame over the whole thing still, and have many questions that will only be answered when I see Him face to face.


Three babies in heaven wait for me.  I have been pregnant eight times.


Despite the pain, the tears, the depression, the anxiety over my losses, I am more reminded of my blessings.  I have five wonderful babies. I am so richly blessed. I know many women who don't get to hold that many in their arms. That the ones they have in heaven out number the ones in life.  I don't understand the Whys, but I do know that God is watching out for us, and He has a plan for each and every one of us and that He wants to bless us and draw us to Him.


I knew that life had moved on in a good direction when I was finally able to get through New Year's Eve without remembering my loss.  And that's a good thing.  I will always hold my babies in my heart, and they will always be a part of my story, and I hope that I can be used as an encouragement to others, but I can look forward with joy. One day I will meet those babies and I will know their names and it will be wonderful.


Today, as we Remember Infant and Baby Loss, I remember my babies, and I remember Quinn, my cousin's boy who was born still last year, and I remember the babies my friends have lost through Ectopics and their loss of fertility as well, I remember Calypso, my friend's little girl who lived and fought a tough battle for a few weeks after being born prematurely and very ill, and I remember how Baby Loss is still such a quiet subject. It's so personal and so emotional that you can't just bring it up out of the blue. How do you tell someone that you have lost babies? How does it possibly come up in a conversation? It's not something we tend to talk about. So I remember the hearts that have been broken, wounded, scarred and are healing slowly with pain that can not be put into words.

When I had my first ectopic pregnancy 13 years ago, there wasn't a lot of information out there.  I remember a tiny little blurb in a pregnancy book, that was it. Everything I read said that it was "rare", as if that were to alleviate fears that it wasn't likely to happen. (I have begun to recognize that if things are rare that they have a higher chance of happening to us. We have had many rare things happen. Ectopics. Cardiomyopathy. Subcutaneous Emphesyma. to name a few) I remember being so upset at that word. RARE. And I wanted to write to every book author and every magazine and tell them it's not that rare after all! It can and does happen. And sometimes you don't know why!


I wandered around in my loss and depression for years, and it wasn't until after I had my second EP that I found a group that supported me. I could not find any group whatsoever in Canada or in the States. The hospitals didn't know what to say, the doctors just told you that your fertility would likely be okay, but no one was able to support and grieve with you. What a blessing it was for me to find Ectopic Pregnancy Trust, a group dedicated to early pregnancy complications in the UK! I joined their message boards and met so many wonderful and dear friends. And my heart healed.


Please, please, if your heart is hurting and you have suffered a baby loss, do not grieve alone! Find someone. Even if that someone is a stranger online! You may find many a kindred friend there. I know I have! Please, talk to someone about your pain and your fears; these are normal things and it is ok to talk them through. Cry. Laugh. Remember. You don't have to go through this alone, and you shouldn't.


If you have friends who have suffered a baby loss, please support them. You will not know what to say, and that is okay. You don't always need the "right words", sometimes just knowing that there is a friend to talk to is enough. Listen to your friend, let her tell you her story (many times if she needs), let her cry. Hold her. Tell her that you don't know what to say, but your heart aches with them.

May today be a peaceful one for you.

12 weeks or so ago....

SO it's been a while. I have been busy, sorry, with one of the best things that have happened to me! My Baby Jellybean arrived! But let's back track....where did I leave you at??? Oh yes! My OB fired me!!! H'mm...

I was quite distressed and angry and frustrated and scared and shocked that my own OB would decide she no longer needed to see me. So much so that I vented to my Hypertension, Dr M. Yep. I tattled!!! And it felt good! It made me feel even better when my doctor was just as surprised about it. A week passed and when I saw her again, she told me that she wasn't comfortable with me not having an Obstetrician and offered to write a letter to Dr G. My awesome sister was was me and spoke up for me, saying how we had no confidence in Dr G and didn't want to see her! This was true for me and for my family, but I doubt I would've said anything! I would've hummed and hawed about seeing her again and begrudgingly gone back, all the while wishing I could be brave enough to speak the truth. But I don't want to hurt any feelings or make an inconvenience or be troublesome. (somehow I equate being honest with "overbearing") When Dr M confirmed that's what we wanted, I did manage to request that she refer an OB for me. That would mean seeing one at BC Women's, but that was okay. I figured I go there often enough as it is, so why not? It would also mean delivering there too, which was mixed for me. I had no problems with being there and having Baby Jellybean there, but I was concerned about making the drive while being in labor. Would I make it in time? :(

I was referred to Dr G, who actually didn't practice at BCW, (only delivered there) but had an office a few blocks away, and incidentally, was on vacation! So I saw a Dr. R instead! :) She was nice and checked me out, saying I wasn't dilated despite the many contractions I'd been having. (I'd been having CX since the beginning of May, after baby dropped, at 32.5w) My cervix was "closed but soft", not that I could remember what that meant! That was on Monday, June 6th. On Tuesday, I felt baby descend even further and I started having contractions that evening! I couldn't sleep through them because I kept paying attention to them! I was so paranoid about going into labor and making it to the hospital on time. Having an OB in Vancouver meant delivering there! It takes an hour (roughly) to get there! (well, only 25ms with no traffic!) I wondered if I made a right decision in requesting one from Dr M. I had a feeling I would go very swift!

So there I was, counting contractions and timing things and attempting sleep. They were coming every 3 minutes for 5 hours now. But they weren't painful. But they were consistent. So I woke up Hunny at 6am (June 8th) and I called my sister---except she wasn't answering her cell, go figure! We left at 7am anyways, and she met us at the hospital.

Of course, on the drive in, I noticed that the contractions were lessening. I had a bad feeling about that. :( Sure enough, there were no CX picked up on the NST (non-stress test) and I still wasn't dilated, and as soon as an OB came to see me an hour after I arrived, she discharged me. Phooey. We hung out at the hospital anyways. I had to wait on lab results (to check my liver and such for pre-e signs) and I had an appointment with Dr M. But we were really hoping the contractions would start up again. We didn't want to pay for parking ($3.50/1hr $7.50/3hr $15/day) just to return later that night. So we walked for a bit and had lunch (and even a little nap in the Admitting waiting room) but nothing happened. We left by around 2pm. I felt silly. And really really tired.

I should've realized it was False Labor with these signs: *non-painful contractions (they lasted for hours, but there weren't terribly painful) *the ability to eat (Hunny wanted to stop for a coffee on the way to the hospital, and I devoured some Timbits! That totally threw off my diabetes numbers too, teehee!)

*sigh*

(me at 37w)

The appointment with Dr M had me a bit paranoid though. She wanted me to ask Dr G (the new OB) about "timing of delivery", ie; being induced. Apparently thirty-eight weeks is a common time for stillbirth from hypertension and gestational diabetes. Yikes!

That Friday night (June 10) I started getting my intense pelvic pressure again. It was so bad that I'd gasp in pain sometimes! It felt like something pushing on my vag, which sounds slightly stupid because I was pregnant and having contractions (of course I'd feel pressure there!) but this was different. They weren't typical contractions. Just very painful. Intense intense pressure. That started at 7pm, but would stop a bit, then start up again. I'd been having them nightly for a while now, and sometimes I'd be in tears because it was so painful; it made me scared. Forget making it to BCW in time, I'd be having the baby in the loo!!!

At 3am, I woke to them again and freaked myself out that I didn't feel Jellybean moving. So I began to pray, and then she'd stretch and I'd rest again. At 5am, Saturday, June 11th, my 38th week, I got out of bed because the pressure and pain was so bad. It was so bad that I couldn't actually think straight. I paced, but was restless. At 5:15am, I woke up Hunny; I couldn't take it anymore! While he had a shower (which seemed incredibly long!) I tried to call Julie's cell (which was on vibrate, so she didn't hear it, go figure) I could barely leave a message though due to the pain, and couldn't call anyone else. When Hunny came out, he called his mom to come over. I was in tears because I just wanted to go to the hospital; it was all taking too long!

We left at 6am and arrived at 6:30am. Hunny dropped me off at Admitting so he could go find a parking spot, but I didn't think I could even get out of the vehicle and walk! But I did. Of course, the room was empty and I was beside myself. I couldn't talk anyways, really. I couldn't think straight. I could hardly walk. Someone did come though and began asking me dumb questions. My personal favourite was, "What brought you into Admitting today?" I looked at her. "Uhm...labor." "Okay. And are you having contractions... uhm... yeah, okay..." At that point, Hunny came in, which I was grateful for because I didn't have time or patience for this woman anymore! I didn't want to deal with anyone who couldn't get this baby from me! I was seriously in my own little world, albeit a very painful one! Of course, the nurse wants you to give a urine sample, get a hospital gown on and lay in a bed. Meanwhile I'm thinking, 'Woman! Can't you see I'm in labor? I don't have time for this!" I just wanted to be checked and have this baby! Put it this way...it was so painful that I was actually crying out and yelling! I didn't care who heard! I couldn't stop anyways. I had never yelled with the others. Not to say that I labored silently with them (I"m not a Scientologist, lol) but I'm not loud nor do I yell in a regular situation. I tend to hold my breath and groan, I think. This yelling surprised me, but maybe "Involuntarily Screaming" is a better description.

When the nurse finally checked me (and let me remind you the pain was in my vag and perineum area so sitting or even laying down scared me. I wanted to stay where I was and hope for no pain!) I hear her say, "Okay, we are moving you right now!" So much for Admitting and Assessment! I was being wheeled into Labor and Delivery, with the nurse calling ahead that I was "9 or 10cm" and needed a room right away! I was writhing in pain by then and couldn't look at anyone. I actually brought a cloth with me that I had got wet with my water bottle and covered my eyes with. I'm not too sure why (even now) to be honest, and I must've looked pretty silly when I think about it, but it made me feel better. It was cool and I seriously couldn't concentrate or look at anyone!

I had several nurses come in and several doctors and I just didn't care! Even when Julie finally arrived, to be honest, I didn't care about that either! (sorry, Julie!) I wasn't interested in who was around me, I just wanted to know that I was being cared for. Just don't talk to me! I had one thought and goal! I didn't even flinch when a nurse put my IV in, and those are typically painful, (and all through the pregnancy I was really nervous about getting one done during my labor.) or when she messed up and had to do it again! (I was told that my swab came back negative for GBS by Dr. S. But a week later, another doctor said a urine sample said I was positive. So I had to have antibiotics. Phooey. I dreaded the idea for months.) I was pleasantly surprised. And it didn't hurt when a doctor wanted to check my progress either (and that's usually incredibly uncomfortable and painful as well. When you're in labor, you want the baby out of you, not have something put in!)

Of course, a doctor said I was only 8 or 9cm. Pfft! Why do they always ruin things? LOL I was given gas and air though. That helped a bit, but it makes me lightheaded. I was so determined to breathe through my contractions, be in control and calmed, but it didn't go over so well. :( The nurse kept saying "Okay, now deep breath out." I was so focused on breathing IN! I loved my nurse, Shannon. She kept telling me, "Do what you did last time. You can do it. Just like before." It made me feel like I really could do it. I was in so much pain that I couldn't even lay down properly (I wanted no pressure on my bottom) so I was on the edge of the bed, and every time I had another CX, I'd flail my arms about trying to find something to grab a hold of! (the nearest thing was the NST machine with the SHARPS container on top, which Julie thought I'd pull down!) Hunny mistakenly gave me his hand again too. I tried to be conscientious though and not squeeze too hard, but later he said he thought I'd break his fingers! Funny how you don't like you have Super Human Strength! I guess that's what Adrenaline does! I was offered an epidural when a doctor saw me (before the gas/air) and as much pain as I was in, I just didn't think I'd have enough time! Not when I considered that I'd have to wait for the anesthesiologist to arrive and they'd have to prep me still. But I was offered one, which was almost nice!

The biggest problem was that my waters hadn't broken. It was "bulging", I heard a doctor say, which sounds kinda gross. I had such pressure that I was convinced it wasn't helping, so I begged for them to break it! Two doctors were talking (an OB & pediatrician? Two OBs? And OB & GP? An OB and nurse? ?? I don't even know!) about what to do. I wasn't fully dilated yet (which I said, "Why not????" and everyone laughed at. But I was serious! I was desperate!) but I had labored 45ms, should they break the waters or wait? I thought for sure they said they were going to wait for 45 minutes, which freaked me out! I couldn't last another forty-five minutes! But Julie clarified for me that was the time I'd had already labored. I still begged them to break my waters. I thought that if they did maybe the baby would slip right out too!

So they did. And it was a relief of pressure. Phew! But the baby didn't come out. Phooey.

Guess who that OB was? When she came in, she said, "I know you! We just met!" but it took me a moment to recognize her. It was Dr R, the OB I just saw on Monday! She was in hospital scrubs not in office wear, which threw me off. But it made me happy to know who the doctor was. I don't have good luck with doctors, they all tend to leave and miss the birth of my children!

After a while, the doctors were saying how I was fully dilated (yay! about time!) BUT...my cervix wasn't ready. Whatever that meant. I was confused. Also, the baby wasn't low enough. So I was told not to push yet. But I wanted to! Well, not really. I just wanted the baby out! I even said that too, "Get this baby out of me!", something I've never done before! I had such intense pressure from my vag to my bum. Not like I've ever had before. Finally, I did feel like pushing though. So I let Shannon know in my grunt-like words, "Pushing!" Followed a few moments later by, "Burning!" So she had to call for the doctors to return, since they stepped out of the room. (I guess they had other patients to check on) They actually made it on time too! Wow! It felt like she was stuck though, since she didn't come out as easy as the others did. I asked and the doctor said that she wasn't, but I didn't really believe her! They did mention using the vacuum to get her out though, but then suddenly she was! (that was after the doctor told me to PUSH with the next contraction instead of screaming! *blush* I had a hard time with the Involuntarily Screaming, okay? It was painful.) In the end, I did have some tearing, but all was good. She was here.

EDEN SHAYE ALIYA
6lbs 11oz 19.5"
June 11, 2011 8:21am




And that is where I'm going to leave you. :) I'll tell you the rest of the details later.

37 weeks

Surely the end must be near for Baby Jellybean! Every week is a surprise for me!

I've been fired!!!

I'm still seeing my group of doctors and my BP is still going up and down. I must admit that I didn't realize your blood pressure can be such a range of numbers. I thought I was so "normal" before, but now it's all over the place; it's hard not to be concerned or stressed! My BP is supposed to be between 80-85 for the diastolic number (the lower one) and yet it fluctuates, and it's hard to not think about what'll happen if it gets too high or too low without me knowing. Especially after my sudden hospitalization two weeks ago!

I saw my regular doctor at the maternity clinic and discovered, yet again, that my BP was lower than it should be. That concerned me, but Dr S shrugged it off, which was frustrating. He also didn't pay much attention to my other concerns and sent me on my way. (such as baby dropping and having pelvic pressure) And that's when I thought, "wait a minute! why am I even still seeing this guy?" So I decided to "fire" him!

He's a good doctor and seems really nice, and he did give me the easiest, quickest and least uncomfortable "womanly visit" exam I've ever had, but he is still just a regular maternity clinic doctor and I have high risk needs to be addressed. If I were a "normal" pregnant woman, I'd have no problem seeing him. But I'm not and frankly, I'm sick of seeing him! That, and the fact that he said my low BP was fine, of course!

Two days after seeing him, I saw my OB, where my BP was in the target range, which surprised and relieved me! I got my Group B Strep Swab done and was told everything was looking good. Baby sounded great, although uncomfortable for me to be lower now, and I'm being seen by a team of specialists and everything is monitored and under control, so Dr G decided to drop a bomb on me. She says she doesn't need to see me anymore!!!

Excuse me?

She says that her job was to get me to 35 weeks and I'm almost there, so there wasn't a need anymore. (I was 33W at the apt)

Excuse me? Am I no longer High Risk? Did I deliver my baby already? After all this work to get in to see an Obstetrician and that's it? She's not going to take me to the end? I don't get it. I can understand her point that things can tend to be done twice with this many doctors (Dr S wants to do the GBS swab on my next week, for example) and that things are going so well for me ---after all, I'm not leaking amniotic fluid or on bed rest (like I was with Rhys) and I technically don't have pre-e (just signs and symptoms of it, but no diagnosis) and I do have everyone possible taking care of me---but if any doctor should be dropped, shouldn't it be the maternity clinic? Since I'm not a regular patient? So much for "firing" Dr S! I think I'm being fired!!!

The doctor did tell me that I can still book appointments with her if I'd like, but I haven't decided what to do yet. (I already have one with Dr S for next week.) A part of me wants to give up and just pretend that it's all normal for me. But another part wants to fight for what I should have. There's always the possibility that I won't even need a specialist in the end, but it doesn't make sense to not see one just because of that chance.

This was something I wasn't expecting. And I am at a loss.

33 weeks and beyond!

Alright, I didn't expect I'd make it this far! But here I am! I have surpassed 33 weeks, the earliest I've ever gone, and I am so pleased! Things are going better than I anticipated and it's wonderful. I go between being surprised and thinking that maybe, just maybe, things will go along smoothly and I'll go even further in this pregnancy, to having this worry that something will change and this baby will arrive soon! I've been on High Alert since 16 weeks, watching for any sign, any twinge, and I've been waiting for the end and expecting that to be at 30 weeks. Pretty sad way to spend a pregnancy, eh? Always waiting for something to happen.

Here is me at 32 weeks. Looking all cute in my Canucks t-shirt and curly hair! *smile*



And me at 33 weeks.


You probably can't tell, but Baby Jellybean had dropped by this picture! She now sits right in my pelvis. Hooray! It's nice to not have the pressure of the baby squishing my lungs, but now the pain has changed to intense pressure of baby pushing on my hips.

......not much longer.......I think!!!

Up and Down

I admit to going into this pregnancy thinking that it would be "normal"....well, normal for me, that is. I'd see a specialist and they'd watch out for any pre-term labour for me and I may end up on bedrest, but the baby would come early and all would be well. I didn't consider pre-eclampsia or hypertension, although I did have gestational diabetes on my mind as well. So things have been going .... interesting for me. I'd have to say that it's actually been going well all things considered. I have appointments on a weekly basis with all of the doctors I see! I have been expecting to be hospitalized or on bedrest sometime during this pregnancy, but was taken by surprise when it did happen over Easter! I'd already had a crazy week, so I should've seen it coming, but I wasn't too sure what would happen.

It started out with a visit to the maternity clinic, where my blood pressure was noted to be elevated. Of course, I didn't think it was "too high"...but that's because I tend to forget my target range! It had been so good for so long, so each week I had been pleased with the numbers at the MFM Clinic and not having to go back on the anti-hypertension medication. But I was also anticipating a climb, since it's common for it to increase during the third trimester. Turns out, my time was now! Dr S looked at my blood pressure readings, checked his notes and then sent me to the hospital for another NST and some lab work! I was seen by Dr G (my OB, who happened to be on call that day) eventually ---it was a very busy day on the maternity ward--- and was put back on Labetelol, and all was well again. For a few days, at least. I saw my regular GP dr on a Friday (for non-pregnancy stuff) and my BP was checked and discovered too low--although, she didn't do anything about it because she said it was a normal range for me. It had me concerned though! I tried to contact the Internal Meds dr, but couldn't get a hold of her, so I thought I'd hold out and see how things went. I'd watch for any obvious signs/symptoms and go to the ER if I was worried.

Of course, that weekend was terrible for me! I was lightheaded, couldn't concentrate, had bad backpain, had sharp abdominal pain, and felt agitated and crappy and out of it. On Monday night, I didn't think I'd be able to cope much longer, but thankfully, Tuesday was a bit better. I saw Dr G again (at her office for an apointment) and my BP was still very low, so she told me to hold the Labetelol. The very next day, I saw Dr. M at Women's, where my BP was very high again! Good grief! By not being on meds for one day, it jumped up! Yet when I was on it, it plummeted! WTH?

Dr M didn't know about my high BP, NST and lab work done the week earlier (*roll eyes* why can't the drs work together?) so that info had her wondering what was going on. Plus, I had protein in my urine, so add those two together and they're looking at Pre-eclampsia. Phooey. :( Months ago, I thought I'd end up with this, but was starting to think that maybe I wouldn't...

So I was sent to Admitting at Women's, where I had another NST done and more lab work (to check my kidney function and such. Your kidneys put out a hormone that regulates your blood pressure. Too high BP and you could damage them, apparently), and given Labetelol. (actually, Dr M gave me one immediately after seeing my blood pressure numbers) Then I was given a room (which was more like a closet) in the Delivery Suite, and started a 24 HR urine collection (what fun!) I also got to have another ultrasound, which was the most enjoyable part of the whole hospital process! (Baby Jellybean looked to be "just under" 4lbs already! Yay!) They were trying to find me an actual bed and room, but it was busy, so I settled into my closet with the curtain for a door, and observed other patients! (like the woman across from me who was 41w4d and starting contractions! She moaned a lot and I was wondering how long they'd keep her here. Surely she couldn't deliver in this closet!!!) I knew I'd be there overnight, for sure, and was told by Dr C (another MFM doctor, whom I also adore!) that they wanted to get my blood pressure monitored and leveled out, as well as get my thyroid "sorted out" (since it was fluctuating a lot as well, which isn't too strange for pregnancy, but this was more so), and have me be seen by the Dietician for my Gestational Diabetes (since I sadly failed my second 2 hour test. Phooey. And I had felt so good about it too, thinking maybe I didn't have it this time since I passed the GTT test weeks earlier!) Phew! I was going to be seen by a lot of different doctors and nurses during my visit! (I was eventually set up in a room at 3am, just when I was starting to finally fall asleep!)

I had started to think that I must have pre-eclampsia and was trying to learn more about it while waiting for confirmation from the doctor. I learned that it is the most common of the dangerous pregnancy complications for both me and baby. (did that make sense? I stole that from Wikipedia!) Symptoms are headaches, visual disturbances, epigastric pain (upper abdominal), nausea and vomiting. Placental Abruption can occur, which is when the placenta detatches prior to birth, which is incredibly dangerous and causes stillbirth. It can lead to seizures, stroke, multiple organ failure and death in more and/or baby, if untreated. Wow. It's hard NOT to get stressed out by it all!

In the end, I wasn't given any information from the doctor regarding pre-e during my hospital stay, but was told by another MFM doctor at my next apt that it was "complicated". I have signs and symptoms, but I guess they fluctuate so much that it's not a simple diagnosis. Which is wonderful to hear, but also confusing.

I was first admitted on Wednesday, not knowing how long I'd stay, but learning it would be for sure overnight. Dr M wanted me monitored and Dr C wanted everything "sorted out", and Dr Unger, another OB, wanted me checked out, and Dr Thompson, the Diabetic Dr, needed to see me.... But after my urine collection was done and my BP was stabilized on Thursday, Dr C and Unger had me discharged. I was almost free! But then Dr Thompson wanted me to stay! Phooey! He wanted to get a better look at my blood sugar levels since I had just started to check. They had been elevated and he wanted 24 hours to get a feel for an average for me. (Poor Hunny was so stressed over it all! He doesn't handle sudden things like this very well, and had to find babysitters for the Youngers, and get the Olders off to school and leave work early and take time off and it was just hard for him to figure out.) I spent Good Friday in the hospital, eating pork chops {*shudder*} and learning how to give myself insulin injections, while my family had a nice turkey dinner!

Yep, I'm giving myself needles! I thought it would happen during my pregnancy with Rhys, since I had such a struggle getting my numbers in order even while on a diabetic diet, but it didn't happen. So I wasn't surprised, but wasn't happy either! It's one thing knowing you'll need to go on insulin and a completely different thing having to actually inject yourself with a needle on a daily basis! But I will admit that I have been so proud of myself! I've been able to do this and do it well! It helps that the needles are small guage and don't really hurt going in, but still! Wow. To think that some people become addicted to a high so much that they're willing to give needles even though they don't "need" them is so bizarre to me!

My hospital stay was finally over on Saturday. Three days later. Or four days, depending on how you count! I got to spend the rest of Easter with my family, and celebrate my anniversary, and see my extended family. It was all good! But it's amazing how quickly things can change. Up and down my numbers go.

In the Home Stretch

I've been getting a lot of comments and questions from strangers on when I'm due, and my answer varies from five weeks all the way to two months. I am 31W now, so technically, I should be looking at 8-10 weeks to go, but we all know that I never go Full Term. I must be looking huge if people are asking me how much longer I have to go! At first, I felt big, but the more I hung out at the hospital, the more I felt small and not-quite-ready.





Do I look ready to pop? These were taken last week. My Maternity shirts are starting to not cover my bump all the way now! *teehee* I do look like I'm ready to go have the baby now, don't I? Or at least like I'm having more than one baby, but I assure you, there is still only one in that big o' tummy of mine! It's a bit strange to think I may only have a month to go! Wow. Four weeks until Baby Jellybean's arrival! Glee!

I saw friends last week whom I hadn't seen since last June, and who didn't know I was pregnant. It's funny to show up to an event with a big belly and to see the expressions --if the reactions are good, that is. One comment I got, immediately upon seeing me, was "Again?" That threw me off. What do you mean, "again"? My last baby is almost three years old, so it's not like it was soon after or that not enough time has elapsed. I wasn't too sure how to respond to her, so I just laughed it off, but the truth is that I was annoyed. It was comments like that that made me not share much of my pregnancy with many people this time around. I had already been dealing for some time with friend's opinions on how I shouldn't have more children and it hurt. I know they meant well and had good intentions, but wow, some people need to learn how to give loving advice without stomping on others' dreams and wishes. Offering me a list of reasons NOT to have children is a bit harsh.

Yes, I knew beforehand that I'd be a High Risk Pregnancy. Yes, I did consider that I may go on bed rest again. Yes, I did wonder about my health in carrying a child for long enough while caring for four other children at home. Yes, I did think of our finances. Yes, I weighed the pros and cons.

When I talked to the girls about my growing list of pregnancy issues last week, they looked at me incredulously and asked, "and you wanted another baby?"

What kind of question is that???

For one, I didn't know I'd have Hypertension (and I definitely didn't know it was pre-existing) or gallstones or any of that. My other pregnancies only had leaking, some bed rest and gestational diabetes to prepare mentally for, and even those risks weren't enough to stop me. But truthfully, had I known beforehand the health issues I'd be having this time around, I'd still find it worth the risk. I will admit it now, though, that this will be our last pregnancy, so you can all stop worrying! My body doesn't enjoy being pregnant and it feels too old for it (which is so sad to say, but there aren't any other words to describe it) and I will have the longed-after five children I've always wanted.

I remember when Nadya"Octomom" Suleman had her eight babies and the controversy it caused (and still does). My heart really went out for her. I understood her desires. I knew what it was to like to want babies and a lot of them. No, her situation wasn't the best (unwed with already a large family of young children to care for and no visible income) and yes, her OB was unethical in transplanting so many embryos, but I understood. I can't say if I'd ever do things her way since I've never been in her situation, but I suppose a lot of people could find similarities in our stories. I still desired my "last baby" (even though I could admit then that I didn't know how many more it would take for me to stop wanting another), that badly wanted second daughter, even though many questioned my health and sanity.

I find it so sad that people can't support and help someone instead of criticizing those they don't agree with. Instead of the love and support Ms. Suleman deserved, that came with the McCaughey septuplets or the Gosselins, people shunned her and questioned her. We should've been encouraging her. After all, she carried eight babies! She didn't selectively terminate some to suit a doctor or the general public's opinion. She risked her own health for her babies, and that sacrifice is one we should commend. Isn't that what makes a hero in our eyes? One who lays their life down for others? No matter what the circumstances were? I hope this woman feels fulfilled by her large brood and has the support and love she needs. She's been staying out of the spotlight as much as she can, which is great as she needs the privacy, but I hope one day she lets us see her life and family! :)

Isn't it interesting how we shun and criticize the things that we don't personally understand? I do it all the time without thinking. We tear down the people we envy as well. I've noticed a few times where I've made bitter comments or tried to embarrass someone else' interests just because I didn't share them, and I've had to bite my tongue and chastise myself. Just look at the gossip sites for examples if you don't believe me. Notice how many people make fun of the Jolie-Pitts for all their children instead of applauding them for adopting children who need homes? Yet they are one of the biggest names in philanthropic work worldwide.

I decided to go ahead and have "one last baby" despite my health risks, so that can be perceived as selfish, I'm sure. But I think almost everything we choose to do can be traced to our own selfish natures. I didn't one day decide it would be a fun, nor did I say, 'screw what everyone thinks' (although I wish I didn't care so much of other people's opinions sometimes). In fact, we had been "trying but not really" for a few months with no results, so I was starting to wonder if maybe it wouldn't happen. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. But then we were happily surprised in Autumn. God has granted me my desires. Not because He wanted to teach me a lesson in consequences, (although I am living out the actions of my growing our family) but because it was also a part of His Plan, and because He knows our futures and what we can all handle. And because He loves little children too (Psalms 127:3) :)

I am learning to find my identity in Him and leaning on His truths and my beliefs in Him, instead of taking criticism of my ways as personal attacks. I can do ALL things through Christ who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13) Even carry a Baby Jellybean, despite the serious health concerns of others. Having Hypertension and Gestational Diabetes isn't ideal, but it's the way things are, and I'm the Home Stretch now, and it'll all be a fond memory soon.

Gut issues

Oh the nausea!

I am almost 27w and I am still dealing with nausea. It's not a constant thing though, thankfully; some days I don't have any issues at all, but then some days are full of acid reflux. I am still taking my Diclectin, but it's not too helpful, to be honest. So my doctor recommended that I take Gravol. Today I am regretting not picking some up when I picked up my synthroid perscription. BLAH!

I'm not too sure if this is just one of those "morning sickness" nausea or if it's from something else. With my Hypertension, I was told to watch out for it as a symptom. It could also be from my gall bladder. Remember me mentioning having to go for an abdominal ultrasound? It was to check out my innards because I had been having pains after eating. Not severe, but enough for me to have to lie down for an hour or so. I wasn't thinking anything of the ultrasound and was really expecting it to come back all clear. What a surprise when they said that I had gallstones! "Quite a few of them", too, according to the doctor! Apparently it can be common with women after having several children. I had no idea!

I am so thankful that I am not having any of the typical pains with gallstones though. I was reading up on them on a pregnancy forum and the postings were making me so nervous and upset that I had to stop reading! "Pains worse than labor"??? Really? Eek! So far, I only get some sharp pains that last at most an hour, but they don't send me to the hospital. And this only happened for a few days and hasn't returned in about a month, which is such a relief! I am terrified to think that one day they may. I'm quite confident in saying that I don't want to have to go through that! I'm scared enough of labour, and I've gone through that a few times already!

I learned that the main option for "curing" gallstones are to remove the Gall Bladder via laproscopic surgery. Hey, why not, they still haven't found a genuine use for it, which is bizarre! I'm sure it must be useful for something! I can't picture God giving us extra body parts for the fun of it, but they still don't have a "real" use for tonsils yet either. *shrugs* The other option is to take medication to break down the stones, but you have to take these meds for up to 5 years since it takes that long. Are you serious? That's crazy talk! I'm hoping mine just go away. Just because they say that I have "several" of them doesn't tell me the size of them and if I need to be concerned. I was just told to watch for symptoms, such as pain that lasts 5 hours or more, and vomiting and nausea. If I have that, I need to go to the ER. Oh great. So far things are okay and the pain seems to have gone away for the most part; I'm watching my diet more and trying to avoid lots of fat, but I've found that the things that most people say to stay away from don't seem to bother me. (such as cheese and chocolate) I would say that I am blessed. Lucky. And grateful.

This pregnancy is so strange to me. I have all these issues that I was not anticipating and they're all about ME and not about the baby. Which is a good thing, but I am anxious about what else is to come. I am still on the lookout for any suspicious signs of pre-term labour and leaking. Along with all the other symptoms I'm too look out for. Like nausea, headaches, swelling, pain, vomiting, dizziness, sight problems.....h'mm.....what else?

Thankfully none of those have happened to me to a bad degree. Except now I have leg cramps to deal with, which is common in pregnancy, but still. I can't sleep at night because my legs ache and I can't get comfortable. *sigh* The trials a mother must go through to have a baby!

one down...

Last night, I made my first trip onto the maternity ward at Peace Arch Hospital, where I *will*may* deliver. I hadn't been there in 2 and a half years and a lot has changed as they are just finishing up their upgrades. Wow. It looks great! Totally unrecognizable. Which is good, and sad, since I had so many good baby memories there and it's unfamiliar now, but it was small and needed updating badly, so... all-in-all a good thing. Too bad my visit wasn't a nicer one.

For two days, I had been having strong Braxton Hicks (BH) and some abdominal pain and lower back pain. The first day, I shrugged them off, even though I was concerned. But yesterday, the stomach pain woke me up from my otherwise pleasant napping on the couch! Not nice! I spent the next two hours alternating between BH and the pain, all the while trying to keep myself occupied by unloading/loading the dishwasher (yes, in that order), filling the bread maker with ingredients and sweeping and cleaning my kitchen floors. None of which took away the pain or lessened it or even took my mind off of it. Yet, I still waffled on whether or not I should head into the hospital.

I have this bizarre problem called a "guilt complex". I'm not too sure if it comes from being a Mom or if it's just a "me thing", but it tends to govern how I treat my own health crisis'. I couldn't just head to the hospital because, not only did I have the Youngers at home, but I'd have to go get the Olders from school in two hours, so I'd have to wait. And I didn't want to go when Hunny came home because he'd need help with dinner and getting the kids into bed and prepping for school the next day. And then I couldn't go later because then it would be a late night and we'd never get the sleep we need and...and...and... it's all so silly. But I really hate to inconvenience anyone with my little issues. I even start to tell myself that the nurses and doctors don't need to be bothered with a paranoid mother who doesn't actually have a health problem; I certainly don't need to be taking up their time when they could be dealing with other patients more serious than myself. I'd rather deal with my own problems at home, by myself, not tell anyone. (which is how I end up leaking waters for hours instead of telling my Hunny to come home from work to take me to the hospital for 3 of our children's births, and laboring at home until I was almost fully dialated with the other....*blush*)

But I couldn't shake this feeling where something just "wasn't right". So I finally decided enough was enough and told Hunny I was heading in to PAH. ...that is, after I called the maternity ward to get their opinion and make sure they weren't too busy, and after I called my sister to see if she wanted to go for a drive (my Hunny and Mom insisted that I get her to go with me! I tried not to take it as a thought that they didn't think I could handle it on my own, but it did make me laugh!)---she was out though, so I went alone.

The whole 20 minute drive was full of fear on my part (I am only 24w along) and praying, and BH and pain. I've got it in my head that they'll find something wrong with me, that I'm in early labor (hey, my signs say that I am according to the internet, the evil thing!) and I'll be admitted and put on bed rest. I'm near tears and I'm scared and it's the real reason why I didn't want to go to the hospital earlier.

I got hooked up to the machine and Baby Jellybean and I had our first non-stress test (NST). They listened to baby's heartbeat, and I had to note whenever I felt movement (which was a bit tough as I'd hear the movement on the machine's speakers but sometimes I wouldn't feel it, so I'd have to tell myself not to click the button just because the machine says something!) and I had a probe-thing attached to me to detect any contractions. They monitored me for half an hour, until the nurse lost the baby and all was coming up good. Guess how many contractions or BH I logged during that time? None. Nada. Nothing. Zero. After having them all freakin' day long.... It was a good thing, for sure, but awfully frustrating too.

Since my urine and blood tests came back negative and good and I had no pains or tightenings to show, the doctor cleared me all good and safe to return home. I was in my bed, snuggling for sleep by 11:30pm! (ok, so I didn't go to bed until after midnight, but the point was that I wasn't at PAH for hours on end like I was worried) I was happy and felt a bit better and confident that I wasn't in any early labor, but I didn't get any answers or suggestions for my pain and BH. They did keep asking me if I was "taking it easy.....or as easy as you can with four children." (I was asked that by both nurses and the doctor at different times!) but I'm not too sure how to answer that. I'm *trying* to take it easy, but, again that Guilt Complex comes into play. I feel like I'm not doing *enough*. I spend a lot of my mornings laying down, resting and napping, so I feel by late afternoon I should be doing something. The house is a mess, dinner needs to be made, the dishes are piling up, we're running out of clean clothes... I don't want Hunny to come home and think, "goodness, did she do anything today?" So I'm trying to put an effort out. Especially since one day I may not be able to.

Tonight, I really felt like I was doing "too much". I had no problems whatsoever during the day with BH or pain, and so I was really happy. That is, until I came home from picking up the kids' from school and I started to get really painful back spasms. I was just walking in the kitchen, deciding on dinner, nothing major. But I had been cleaning and had been carrying Rhys around a lot (since he's been asking me to do that lately this week) and I was pooped.

I admit it, I am paranoid. I get scared. Every new week is another to cross of my list, which gives me some relief, but every week also brings fear. Will this week be the week....that I start to leak? that my body fails? that I end up on bed rest? Every pregnancy has been earlier for pre-term. Abi at 37w. Kai at 36w. Bryn at 33w. Rhys at 30w (when I was put on bedrest for leaking, and had complete PROM at 35w, when he was delivered) So I have been on high alert and watch since, oh maybe 16w. *sigh* I haven't slept very good lately. Imagine that. But I want to be paying attention and be sure of what's going on. If there is something happening, I need to be aware so that I can get the help I need. I know that there have been great wonderful advances in medical science that can have a 24 weeker survive, but I surely don't want to have to go through that. Poor Jellybean isn't ready to be born. There's not enough fat to keep her warm, her lungs aren't developed, she's so tiny. It would be wonderful not to lose her and to have her grow strong enough in the NICU, but the developmental issues afterwards are scary! I don't want to have to go through that. So, every week, I breathe a bit better.

I find that I am waiting for 30 weeks to come, as if that is when I think things will happen. I'm just praying it doesn't happen sooner.

It was good to have some reassurance that my body isn't going against me right now and that baby is still safe and that we didn't need to be admitted to the maternity ward. I left the hospital feeling good, but a bit frustrated that all my symptoms disappeared while there. The nurses bid me good night when I left, saying they'd see me again in 16 weeks! We'll see... I have a feeling I'll be back there for more NST's though. We got our first one out of the way though and passed with flying colours! *smile*

FINALLY!!!! (in which I vent a little)

I FINALLY have an OB!!! I'm happy and relieved. Especially since I'm already 24 weeks along today (which means I'm in my 6th Month...I think. I forget months and think in terms of weeks during pregnancy, since that's how it goes!) This has been an ongoing challenge for me, something I've been fighting for since the beginning, so I feel frustrated and unsure. Indifferent and cranky. Satisfied and pleased.

I've joked to family about how I'll "try not to be bitter" when I see the Obstetrician at the end of the month, but I really don't think I am. Even though I do feel that I have every right to be. See, soon after I found out I was pregnant, I requested a referral to this specific OB from my own doctor, since I had seen her during my pregnancy with Rhys. I am a High Risk Pregnancy and knew that I'd just likely end up needing to see a specialist anyways, so why not skip the "middle man" at the Maternity Clinic and get the care I needed? However, I hadn't heard anything from them yet and I was nearing the end of my first trimester, so I brought it up to the doctor's receptionist again, to which they called around and found out that this OB didn't want to see me. She wanted me to go through the Mat Clinic first. *roll eyes* Whatever for? You'd think she'd like how I asked for her and wanted her to be my doctor!

So I asked for a different OB at a different hospital. Knowing how I have a tendency to not go full term, I may as well go straight to the hospital with the great NICU (where Bryn was born at 33w) However, I find out that they want me to go through the Mat Clinic first as well, until that doctor says I'm "high risk". Are you kidding me? I already am! I began this pregnancy that way! Once you're "high risk" in one pregnancy, you're considered it for the next ones too!!! Sheesh. So no skipping the "middle man". I begrudgingly went to the Maternity Clinic. I didn't even care who saw me, I was only interested in getting the appointments over and getting them to refer me. But even that wasn't going to happen easily!

I even tried to get a Midwife. I really wanted a specialist who was interested in ME and the baby, who would give me the time of day, who would talk to me and go over concerns I'd had and would let the whole pregnancy feel "natural" and beautiful, instead of tiring and heavy, as it's been for me before. Like a midwife would do. I looked up online for midwives in the area, checked out the ones that had delivering abilities at the hospitals I wanted, and even asked friends for opinions. But that didn't work out well for me in the end either, as they won't take on High Risk Pregnancies; which I understand, but also felt bummed about.

What was it going to take to get a specialist to care for me and the baby????

To say that the first 16 weeks weren't stressful would be a lie. I was so stressed and so upset and worried and paranoid and angry and frustrated! I was trying to be proactive but I felt I wasn't being taken seriously, and it was difficult. To say that in the past 6 months I have been preoccupied by this whole issue would be downplaying it. I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else other than this problem, much to the faltering of my business and my family. *sigh*

But then things picked up.

After they fell apart, that is.

I had high blood pressure. And when I say "high", I mean really high. As in not good high. As in I needed to be seen by a team of specialists out at BC Women's Hospital that deals only in high BP during pregnancy. This team takes on only special cases, those that are pre-eclampsia and IUGR. I was freaking out when I learned that! I was told by many not to worry and to not get too far ahead of myself, but well, what else was I to do but look online for more information??? I know, I know, some people would say that is a bad idea, but I'd rather be informed at the options and choices and solutions than to not have a clue going into something. Of course, that also only made me convinced that not only was I pre-e, but I was one of those rare cases of pre-e that show up really early, even though it typically only does in late term. I had convinced myself that this pregnancy was doomed and I'd be on bed rest and maybe hospitalized and spent much of my time praying that we'd make it to a reasonable stage of the pregnancy for viability. (which I am very close to now, thankfully)

I walked into the EMMA clinic with apprehension and concern, and left with assurance and hope. After an ultrasound, detailed past history, medical knowledge (not mine of course, the team of doctors) consistent BP checks, some medication, and a lot of appointments it was determined that my hypertension was pre-existing. What a shock that was to me. It wasn't even an option that popped into my head! Sure, it was a possibility on every site I looked up, but I hadn't even considered it. I've never had high blood pressure. Never. How could this be something I entered the pregnancy with? What an idea! But this all was detected at 14 weeks, so it was the most obvious suggestion.

I was not at high risk for pre-e! HOORAY! In fact, they assessed me at only a 30% chance of it becoming that! What a relief! But what another surprise I had when, at my appointment, the doctor I was seeing "kicked me out" of the EMMA Clinic!!! It was a good thing, indeed, but also something I wasn't expecting! Instead, I was to be followed by the Internal Medicine Doctor, who deals with hypertension outside of pregnancy from now on.

I see Dr M every two weeks, and we check my blood pressure and go over any issues that I may have and we discuss medication (currently I am not on any as my blood pressure is great!) and she sends me for lab work. Lots of lab work. I have my urine checked and whatever else they look at in my blood (lol) and things are being regulated. I go out to Vancouver so often, I am used to it and I enjoy it! I love this doctor and her intern doctor (at least, I think that's who she is. Or she's doing her practicum, I'm not too sure. I don't understand it all. But she's a doctor and I like her a lot too!) and I feel good and secure and happy. I feel that things are being taken care of.

But then I forget that this woman is taking care of ME. She's *my* doctor, and I still don't have a "baby doctor". I hadn't even seen my own doctor at the maternity clinic in two months, when he said he'd put a referral in to an OB for me just after Christmas, and I hadn't heard from that doctor either. So when that reality set in again, it was frustrating. Granted, things were going well, and I was being monitored on a regular basis, and the baby was growing and I could feel constant kicking, so in that aspect I didn't need to be too concerned. But I was annoyed at feeling discarded. When I finally did get in to the Mat Clinic again, I was feeling so let down over the whole issue that I just didn't *care* anymore. I wasn't going to fight or push or anything. I'll just take the first specialist they'll give me.

So I'm going to see the OB that I requested back in October.

Yeah. The one that didn't want to see me. I feel I have a "right" to be bitter over it all, and in some ways I am. But in more ways, I also feel relieved and resigned about the whole thing. I was starting to think that maybe I didn't even need a doctor, that I'd done this all before and would go in to the hospital I wanted to deliver at when I felt I needed to! After all, no doctor has actually even delivered any of my children, they'd all been too late or left the room for unusual reasons when I'd been fully dialated! But then I don't want to become "that kind of mom"...the one who self-diagnoses and then finds herself in trouble later on.

So when I see this doctor at the end of the month, I'll do my best to accept her type of care and her insight into my High Risk-edness, and to not try to mess it up. I'll also try real hard not too let my mind get ahead of itself and to think up issues that aren't happening. I've had too many sleepless nights because of paranoia of early leaking, and of constant checking and questioning myself. After all, maybe things will be okay. Maybe I won't even *need* this OB. Maybe it will all turn out for naught. Wouldn't that be a blessing? I am trying to convince myself that I won't have any baby issues, even though past history tells me otherwise. One thing I do believe already is that every pregnancy is different.

Isn't that the truth!

Placebo Girl

I had to make another trip downtown to BC Women's to see my wonderful specialist, and I felt so sick, and I didn't want to go b/c I felt sick, and I didn't want to cough in my favouritist' sister's car and spread my germs all over her borderline germophobe personal space, but I also wanted to go b/c I wanted the doctor to see that I was sick and I wanted her to tell me that I should stay in bed and be pampered and that I should really start to take some strong medication to make me normal again. It was a conflicting appointment for me. As we sat in the room waiting for the doctor, somehow our conversation got onto being sick (imagine that...maybe it was all the tissues I kept grabbing to cough into) and medications and my sister made a comment about me needing a placebo. Which got me thinking.

A placebo. H'mm....

And it occurred to me that she is completely correct. That's the nice thing about family; they know you. But I am in need of a placebo. And if I'm really honest, I think I would be able to admit that I'd rather have a placebo than have to take actual medications on a daily basis! Give me a pretend medication, make me feel better. Is it bad that I can admit to that or is that just admitting the sad state of my mind? I think the truth is that I just want someone to care, to put an effort out, make me feel better, even for just a moment. I want to be babied sometimes!

I was feeling so bad for myself one night, laying in bed, hacking, coughing, and sputtering, and crying. I knew I wasn't dying and wasn't close to it, but my mind kept thinking of all these terrible things happening, like what if I actually couldn't breathe and I had to crawl down the hall, panting and wheezing, trying to get someone's attention, while fumbling for the phone so that I can dial 9-1-1 and start banging on the digits just so they can figure out there is a serious problem on the other end and they need to send someone over stat to heal me. (Yeah, my mind is a wonder, isn't it?) What if no one noticed that I needed serious help? The thought was oppressing my mind, weighing on me, making me feel worse. Finally, I got up, in tears, and confessed to my Hunny that I was most likely going to die on my own in the bedroom while he watched tv. He took care of me and made me feel better, and half an hour later, I could go back to bed, feeling confident that things were ok.


Yeah, I need a placebo. I'm happy with simple care. Someone to listen to me and not laugh at my drama. A gentle hug, an encouraging word. It makes my heart feel lighter and I can continue on and feel strengthened.

I left the doctor's office with a nice prescription for a strong medication and immediately I felt a good 90% better than I had that morning. And I hadn't even started the medication yet!!! It was just knowing that it wasn't all in my head that made me feel better. The next day, whilst on our way to yet another appointment, I was talking to my wonderfulest sister about how easy things can change for me. I can honestly say that I would be perfect for those medical studies where they give half the test group the real meds and the other half the placebos. I'd be completely happy in the placebo group!

I'm not too sure how I feel about this though. I think it's great to admit that I don't need a lot to make me feel secure, yet the thought that I can be deceived and possibly feel "okay" about it makes me feel uneasy. It's a complex thought. I obviously don't like being lied to and I am deeply hurt and offended by people who are fake or aren't deep, yet I am also simple enough to be able to accept pseudo care. Maybe the word isn't "simple". Maybe it's "strong". Yeah, let's go with that one. Maybe I'm confident enough and am smart enough to know the truth and that in some circumstances, having a placebo is enough b/c I know that's what it is.

Maybe the whole thing really just shows how easy it is to turn things around for me. It's not about how "simple" I am, and it doesn't mean that I have esteem issues or anything. Instead, it is a way to see how to help me get back on my feet. When I need help, I just need a little sympathy, someone to tell me that it's not all in my head, and to help me pick myself back up. A placebo doesn't have to mean "fake." I just need some reassurance sometimes.