I'm pregnant. It's been like a year since I have written anything here or anywhere else. I have had writers block for almost 2 years and it blows. Well, anyway...
So, I found out I was pregnant in February. As if I am not already crazy enough, pregnancy definitely puts me over the edge. I had one ectopic pregnancy that ended with emergency surgery and the removal of my left fallopian tube. I have had three healthy children since then with minimal complications during their pregnancies. So, I find out I am pregnant and after convincing my husband all 23 pregnancy tests can't be wrong, he finally accepted it. Things started off okay...for a minute!
I get an early ultrasound to rule out ectopic due to my history. So, I went around 5 weeks, I believe and the tech said she saw a yolk sac and maybe the beginning of a fetal pole. It was extremely early and that was what was to be expected. I was to follow up again in a week or so to check viability. At 6 weeks, after having a nice pancake breakfast, I used the bathroom to find bright red bleeding. Not a ton, but enough to scare you. I wanted to ride it out at home, but my husband thought we should get it checked. So we did. Big mistake!
The lovely doctor in triage checked my cervix and informed me it was closed, which was a good thing. She only saw minor spotting on my cervix, again, a good sign. Then she did the ultrasound and shit fell apart. She told us there was no heartbeat and my gestational sac was collapsing in on itself. She said I was having a miscarriage and to go home and wait for the bleeding to pick up and pass the tissue. I cried. I cried waiting for my discharge papers, I cried walking through the hospital and seeing all the happy pregnant women waiting for their babies to be born, I cried when I got home and we had to tell our 3 little girls that the baby stopped growing, I cried when I told my family, I cried when I was alone and thought about how excited I was to meet the baby I had only a week or so before found out I was expecting. It was a horrible week. The doctor wouldn't send me home with any medication for pain, so I was worried about how much it would hurt, both physically and emotionally, when it "started." I spent the next week on edge, wearing huge pads everywhere I went and feeling like a ticking time bomb. I had my regular doctors appointment about 5 days later and he said he wasn't convinced there was anything wrong. My blood work still looked good and I hadn't had anymore bleeding. He wanted me to go for another ultrasound. I humored him.
Two days later, the same tech who did my first ultrasound inserted that long wand into my vagina once again, this time expecting to see nothing. After looking around carefully for a good 15 minutes, she pointed to something on the screen and told me she was pretty sure it was a heartbeat. She had me empty my bladder so she could get a better look. Sure enough, there was the tiny little blob of cells with a beating heart. It was a shock and I wanted to punch the bitch face emergency room doctor right in her vagina. I was once again pregnant, but cautiously optimistic.
Things progressed well. My 12 week ultrasound showed no signs of Down Syndrome and I was getting my energy back as I started the second trimester. Around 16 weeks, we had just returned from the store after buying some tomato and pepper plants for the garden, and I was walking into the backyard when my dog blasted into me and took my knee out. Now, I never did do a post last year about our annual beach trip. Last years trip was no less of a fiasco than previous years. The night before we left, I slipped in the dogs water (she tends to dribble some on the floor after getting a drink) and ended up tearing my meniscus and spraining my ACL. So yeah, that was a real fucking hoot at the beach! Wearing a giant knee brace, trying to hobble through the sand in complete agony. Thank God for the tram car! Anyway, I saw two different orthopedic surgeons after we returned and they both said I would need surgery after looking at my MRI films. Through some cosmic energy voodoo magic, my mom fixed my knee about 3 weeks later, while I was sleeping. I swear. I woke up one morning and felt no pain. I didn't need to limp around, I didn't need to take any vicodin...I felt perfectly normal. My mom told me about an hour later she had done a lot of energy work on my knee that morning. So yeah, as I slept, my mom cured my torn meniscus. Aren't moms grand?!
Back to the day in the yard with the tomato plants. My dog knocked into my knee, which caused the same stabbing pain and I fell to the ground. I went to the er, mainly because of the fall and I wanted to check on the baby. Kid was fine, although they couldn't tell me that there wouldn't be issues as time went on. They made me go over to the regular er to have my knee checked out. Thankfully, they fast tracked me and I was able to explain to the doctor that this isn't my first time around with this knee bullshit and I would follow up with my ortho doc. He gave me some vicodin and sent me on my way. My knee was jacked for about a week and then suddenly...nothing. Thanks, mom?!
I went for my 18 week ultrasound and was so excited to find out what we were having, as well as making sure the baby looked good and healthy! After three girls, we found out we are expecting a little boy and it made me tear up right there on the table. And then, they told me I have complete placenta previa. The perinatologist shrugged it off as no big deal. I was only 18 weeks along and he said chances are it would move and not cause any issues. Haha.
At 21 weeks, I woke up and found blood when I used the bathroom. Not a lot, but enough to scare you. I was home alone with the girls. I had been following the restrictions given, complete pelvic rest and no heavy lifting. I was sleeping for Pete's sake! I called my husband and then my sister who said she would come over to sit with the girls so I could go to the hospital. I was in a complete state of panic. My mom came over to drive me to the hospital and wait with me until my husband got there. Thankfully, everything was just fine. The bleeding never got heavy and turned to minor spotting for a couple days before stopping. They did an ultrasound at the hospital and the baby looked fine, my placenta was still centered over my cervix and there was no signs of visible blood on u/s. They sent me home on bed rest. I was allowed to shower once a day, use the bathroom and get myself something to eat. I was terrified and researched the crap out of placenta previa, which scared me even more. Bed-rest, hemorrhaging, c-sections, premature babies, emergency deliveries...wtf? For a good two weeks, I was consumed with anxiety about when I would bleed again, how long I would have to get to the hospital before I died and what would happen if I had a big bleed before the baby was viable. I was chock full of doom and gloom! My family doctor put me on Zoloft.
Another ultrasound at 22 weeks showed no movement of the placenta. The doctor told me it was unlikely it will move at this point since it is still completely centered over the cervix. She couldn't answer my question about how long I would have to go to the hospital before bleeding out if I hemorrhage! Honestly, I am a great nurse, just not when it involves my own issues!
I am now a little over 26 weeks. I am still on bed rest, but I cheat daily. Not that I do anything crazy, but really, who can stay in bed all day, every day? I have constipation like I never thought possible. Colace, Mirilax and suppositories and I still can't take a dump without crying, rubber gloves and calling my mom because I don't know what to do. Yes, I know, too much information. Whatever, it's my blog. I also have Symphysis Pubic Disorder. It feels like someone is stabbing me over and over in the right side of my groin. The pain travels from my low groin to my hip and then into my back and down my leg. It's really awesome. I waddle when I walk, I can't out my pants on without sitting down and being in pain and rolling over in bed has become an olympic sport. My doctor won't give me anything for the pain and Tylenol laughs at me when I take it. I scored a wheel chair from one of my girlfriends and I was super excited about it. Sadly, it is really more of a transport chair, with 4 small wheels instead of those two big ones on the back. So, when my husband attempted to take me for a walk around the block, he nearly sent me flying out of the chair with each bump we hit. After the third incident where I was almost catapulted, face first, out of the lovely chair, I gave up and walked home. To hell with that death trap!
I have a doctors appointment tomorrow and another ultrasound on Wednesday. I try to visualize my placenta moving out of the way which would allow me to put this nightmare behind me. But, if that isn't the case, I have made peace with the c-section, the chance of hospital bed rest and more bleeding. I am going to keep thinking positive and remind myself that if something should happen, I know what is causing it and let the doctors do their job. I will be okay and so will my little boy.
So, I caught you up to speed and now I can concentrate on using this blog as an outlet to share my crazy days spent in bed. Until then, I am off to research tubal ligation's :)

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