Just a quick update.
I called the doctor today to tell them about my twisting/spotting incident. She was less concerned about the spotting and more concerned about any cramping. I'm supposed to keep an eye on any cramping or leaking fluid. I feel okay today. My belly was still pretty sore yesterday and I spent almost all day in bed. We went to dinner and that made my belly hurt again, so I opted to just keep myself chilled out as much as possible.
I'm at work today and doing okay so far. I hate the whole "is your fluid leaking" question because who the hell knows? I mean, I'm not soaked in anything, but between cervical fluid, sweat, urine and God knows what, who knows?!
I really DO think I'm okay to wait for my doctor's appointment next week, but I don't know that. That's the thing about all of this. The not knowing. I need some special glowing tattoo. All is well- glows green. Mild danger- yellow. Get thee to the hospital- red.
--Trish
Monday, April 28, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
More spotting
Yesterday was one of those days where I was miserable. My back was so sore I can't even explain it. I worked all day, and was never so glad to get home in my life. I managed to get comfortable at home and relax. By the time I went to bed I felt pretty okay.
I actually slept fairly well. I woke up a few times but only got up once to pee. I slept about 8 hours. It was the best night's sleep I've had in ages.
I woke up feeling good. I decided to take advantage of feeling decent and get some housework done. Nothing major- just a little dusting, bathrooms and laundry. Bending to scrub the tub was a little uncomfortable, but nothing major. At one point a shirt got caught on the agitator in the washing machine and I had to reach to unhook it. It hurt a little. Then there was a sock I had to reach for. My belly pulled a little. But overall, I felt okay.
Some family is in town for the weekend, we had reservations at a local Brazilian Steakhouse. On the away there (way across the city) my belly hurt a little. When I got to the restaurant, I went to go pee. Glanced down. Hmm, that almost looks pink. I tried to convinced myself it was the cheap toilet paper. But it looked like a real spot of red. So I double checked. Lots of pink. SHIT.
Of course, my heart stopped. I went back out and pulled my husband aside and told him we had to go home right after dinner because I was spotting again. Then I tried to act normal. The family wanted me to come to my dad's house after dinner. I begged off saying I didn't feel well. (True enough.) After dinner, my grandma gave me some baby blankets and a stuffed bear for the baby. Wow. Here I am praying the baby is okay and holding gifts in my hands. That was an interesting mix of emotions.
Anyway, I got home. The baby kicked a little, I listened with the Doppler. Everything seems fine. The bleeding stopped. I can only speculate that the reaching & stretching pulled something. And it's healing, I hope.
But suffice it to say that my stress level is sky high again. Against my own good sense, I googled "premature births" trying to decide when the baby can be born and be okay. Clearly not now (21w2d) but how long do we have to hold on. I just have this horrible vision of a placental abruption at some point. We just need to get to viability. Seems like the minimum for viability and a good chance at a meaningful life is right around 28 weeks. Of course I hope for another 16 (full term =37w) but maybe 7 weeks is more reasonable a short term goal.
I could use more prayers if you got 'em. I'm having a really hard time believing this is going to end with a healthy baby in my arms.
--Trish
I actually slept fairly well. I woke up a few times but only got up once to pee. I slept about 8 hours. It was the best night's sleep I've had in ages.
I woke up feeling good. I decided to take advantage of feeling decent and get some housework done. Nothing major- just a little dusting, bathrooms and laundry. Bending to scrub the tub was a little uncomfortable, but nothing major. At one point a shirt got caught on the agitator in the washing machine and I had to reach to unhook it. It hurt a little. Then there was a sock I had to reach for. My belly pulled a little. But overall, I felt okay.
Some family is in town for the weekend, we had reservations at a local Brazilian Steakhouse. On the away there (way across the city) my belly hurt a little. When I got to the restaurant, I went to go pee. Glanced down. Hmm, that almost looks pink. I tried to convinced myself it was the cheap toilet paper. But it looked like a real spot of red. So I double checked. Lots of pink. SHIT.
Of course, my heart stopped. I went back out and pulled my husband aside and told him we had to go home right after dinner because I was spotting again. Then I tried to act normal. The family wanted me to come to my dad's house after dinner. I begged off saying I didn't feel well. (True enough.) After dinner, my grandma gave me some baby blankets and a stuffed bear for the baby. Wow. Here I am praying the baby is okay and holding gifts in my hands. That was an interesting mix of emotions.
Anyway, I got home. The baby kicked a little, I listened with the Doppler. Everything seems fine. The bleeding stopped. I can only speculate that the reaching & stretching pulled something. And it's healing, I hope.
But suffice it to say that my stress level is sky high again. Against my own good sense, I googled "premature births" trying to decide when the baby can be born and be okay. Clearly not now (21w2d) but how long do we have to hold on. I just have this horrible vision of a placental abruption at some point. We just need to get to viability. Seems like the minimum for viability and a good chance at a meaningful life is right around 28 weeks. Of course I hope for another 16 (full term =37w) but maybe 7 weeks is more reasonable a short term goal.
I could use more prayers if you got 'em. I'm having a really hard time believing this is going to end with a healthy baby in my arms.
--Trish
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Catching up
Sorry for the long quiet. Last week was so crazy and I just never got to writing.
The highlights:
Wednesday was my wound check for newly-lumpless lefty. No cancer! WOO-HOO! It was a lipoma. My wound looks good. She doesn't think I'll have much of a scar. (Not that I really gave a shit, but still.) It's still just a little bit tender and you can feel the stitches & bruising underneath so it's lumpy- but not "lumpy." She said she doesn't have any reason to believe it is likely recur.
Thursday was the big day. 20 weeks and my "big" ultrasound. Now, I realize most women probably look forward to the day to find out the sex, but 1) we didn't want to know the sex and 2) all I wanted to know was that everything was okay.
My ultrasound tech was okay. Adequate, I'd say. She asked if I had a history of any problems, so of course, I mentioned my two miscarriages & the chronic spotting. This usually gets me at least a sympathetic nod. I threw in that I am a nervous Nelly and a little neurotic. This usually helps me get thorough answers to my questions. Well, not so much this time. Don't get me wrong, the woman was professional. She was in no way rude. She just wasn't helpful. Every time I asked a question, she'd ask why I was asking.
q: Does my fluid look okay?
a: Mmm-hmm. Why do you ask?
q: does my cervix look okay
a: yeah, why?
I had the urge to yell "JUST REASSURE ME, DAMN IT!" about three times.
It went pretty quickly. She did point out some things: arms, legs, stomach, brain, kidneys. One of the head measurements was a week behind, which of course freaked me out. She insisted it was fine.
The doctor came in at the end and looked again. He commented that "everything is fine, we're just really picking about these scans" as he seemed to be trying to focus in on the baby. It left me with the impression they weren't seeing something that they wanted to see. It made me nervous, but he insisted everything was fine as well.
After my discussion and thinking about it, I've decided everything is fine because they'd have to tell me if something wasn't. I just think the u/s tech didn't "GET" that she was making me more nervous with her seeming avoidance of my questions.
I'll try to get the pictures up shortly, but to be honest, they're a little odd looking. They're all closeups of the face, so again with the Skeletor look.
Thursday night/Friday morning, we had an earthquake. My husband was at his best friend's house for the night (more on that later) so I was home alone. Freaky shit, man. Everything was fine- no damage here. But it (pardon the pun) shook me up.
Friday night was David's best friend's wedding out in wine country (read: Long Ass Drive.) David had spent the night with his best friend at the friend's request. (LOTS of jokes about his slumber party) so I made the trek alone. Blah. Wedding was beautiful, though.
The weekend was pretty uneventful, mostly consisting of trying to recover from the festivities from the day before. (Too much time in the car and on a hard chair= BAD back pain.)
And that's where we stand. As of now, 20w4d. Today was an uncomfortable, anxiety filled day. When my belly hurts, I worry what it means. I know logically it's more bowel issues, but it still freaks me out. And of course, those are always the times the baby chooses to be still. I did just drink a big glass of juice and am getting kicked a bit. That's quite reassuring.
Honestly, as much as I keep telling myself that my crazy nightmares mean nothing, there was one a few weeks ago that involved me giving birth at 20 weeks that freaked me out. I'm sort of counting the minutes until 21 weeks so I can say that "didn't come true."
And I feel like I'm staring down the cusp of viability. And when I get close to good things, I get nervous. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm a joy. I know. That's why it's my middle name. ;)
--Trish
The highlights:
Wednesday was my wound check for newly-lumpless lefty. No cancer! WOO-HOO! It was a lipoma. My wound looks good. She doesn't think I'll have much of a scar. (Not that I really gave a shit, but still.) It's still just a little bit tender and you can feel the stitches & bruising underneath so it's lumpy- but not "lumpy." She said she doesn't have any reason to believe it is likely recur.
Thursday was the big day. 20 weeks and my "big" ultrasound. Now, I realize most women probably look forward to the day to find out the sex, but 1) we didn't want to know the sex and 2) all I wanted to know was that everything was okay.
My ultrasound tech was okay. Adequate, I'd say. She asked if I had a history of any problems, so of course, I mentioned my two miscarriages & the chronic spotting. This usually gets me at least a sympathetic nod. I threw in that I am a nervous Nelly and a little neurotic. This usually helps me get thorough answers to my questions. Well, not so much this time. Don't get me wrong, the woman was professional. She was in no way rude. She just wasn't helpful. Every time I asked a question, she'd ask why I was asking.
q: Does my fluid look okay?
a: Mmm-hmm. Why do you ask?
q: does my cervix look okay
a: yeah, why?
I had the urge to yell "JUST REASSURE ME, DAMN IT!" about three times.
It went pretty quickly. She did point out some things: arms, legs, stomach, brain, kidneys. One of the head measurements was a week behind, which of course freaked me out. She insisted it was fine.
The doctor came in at the end and looked again. He commented that "everything is fine, we're just really picking about these scans" as he seemed to be trying to focus in on the baby. It left me with the impression they weren't seeing something that they wanted to see. It made me nervous, but he insisted everything was fine as well.
After my discussion and thinking about it, I've decided everything is fine because they'd have to tell me if something wasn't. I just think the u/s tech didn't "GET" that she was making me more nervous with her seeming avoidance of my questions.
I'll try to get the pictures up shortly, but to be honest, they're a little odd looking. They're all closeups of the face, so again with the Skeletor look.
Thursday night/Friday morning, we had an earthquake. My husband was at his best friend's house for the night (more on that later) so I was home alone. Freaky shit, man. Everything was fine- no damage here. But it (pardon the pun) shook me up.
Friday night was David's best friend's wedding out in wine country (read: Long Ass Drive.) David had spent the night with his best friend at the friend's request. (LOTS of jokes about his slumber party) so I made the trek alone. Blah. Wedding was beautiful, though.
The weekend was pretty uneventful, mostly consisting of trying to recover from the festivities from the day before. (Too much time in the car and on a hard chair= BAD back pain.)
And that's where we stand. As of now, 20w4d. Today was an uncomfortable, anxiety filled day. When my belly hurts, I worry what it means. I know logically it's more bowel issues, but it still freaks me out. And of course, those are always the times the baby chooses to be still. I did just drink a big glass of juice and am getting kicked a bit. That's quite reassuring.
Honestly, as much as I keep telling myself that my crazy nightmares mean nothing, there was one a few weeks ago that involved me giving birth at 20 weeks that freaked me out. I'm sort of counting the minutes until 21 weeks so I can say that "didn't come true."
And I feel like I'm staring down the cusp of viability. And when I get close to good things, I get nervous. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm a joy. I know. That's why it's my middle name. ;)
--Trish
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Giggle
The funniest search term lead someone here today:
04/12/08 01:03:48 "the largest penis I've ever" (Yahoo)
Someone was very disappointed in my blog at 1 am.
--Trish
04/12/08 01:03:48 "the largest penis I've ever" (Yahoo)
Someone was very disappointed in my blog at 1 am.
--Trish
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Lumpless
Lumpy Lefty is now Lumpless Leftie.
All in all, it went as well is possibly could have.
I had a breakdown Monday night and cried out most of my fear. David was supportive, even though he threw in that "I have faith in you" thing that really stresses me out. He doesn't get why that isn't helpful. But he held me and comforted me and was a good husband. I felt a bit better after my cry.
This morning, I was awake before the alarm and more in "get it done" mode so I didn't think too much. We got to the hospital and registered. Everyone was very kind.
They offered to do a Doppler check before and after surgery w/o being asked. I told everyone who came in that I needed to speak to anesthesia because I wanted to go with just a local. Everyone was quite nice about my concerns. They made me take a pregnancy test, which amused both me and the nurse who had to do it. Though after reading this story, I suppose it was reasonable. My IV went in w/o a hitch. As I'm not an easy stick, I was extremely impressed. I actually asked out loud "You're done?" because I actually didn't believe it was that quick, or that painless.
The only person I had any trouble with all day was actually the only man I spoke to all day. That's not sexism, just a coincidence. He was from anesthesia. He came and told me they'd give me something "to relax" me. I said "I'm pregnant. I don't want that." He insisted it was low dose. I insisted I didn't want it. I never really got to the point of being outright bitchy, but the conversation ended with an uncomfortable silence and him walking away.
In the end, I got my way. No sedation at all. He wasn't part of the anesthesiolgists in the room with me, fortunately. My surgeon was completely on board with my wishes, thankfully.
The surgery itself went very well. Being awake was actually pretty cool. I should mention that I'm not remotely squeamish and do have a fairly decent pain tolerance. I'm not sure I'd recommend it for everyone, but I'm very happy with the choice I made.
All of the women in the room with me were wonderful. They talked to me the whole time, even offering to hold my hand. They basically got me ready for a MAC (basically- sleepy time) but it was to only be used if I couldn't handle the local. They cleaned up my left boob. That was amusing. I had betadine essentially from my belly button to my chin, down my left arm and over to my right boob. The worst part was that it was freezing in there. Why are operating rooms kept at 60? I commented to the staff that I didn't know how THEY weren't freezing (as they were piling warm blankets on me) and one of them replied "Well, we're not exposed, you have it worse." I told them if they all wanted to whip out their left boobs to feel my pain, they could feel free.
They told me the numbing shots would be the worst part. Honestly, I barely felt them. Then she got started. I could feel her working, but mostly just my boob moving. There was a drape over my head, so I couldn't see anything. It seriously couldn't have been 5 minutes before she said "Well, it's out. It was a nothing. A blobby thing. A fatty cyst." Relief!
At that point, I started to feel a little something, but before I could really sort through the thought, it BURNED. Right away, I spoke up. She stopped and numbed me up again. From there, everything was fine. I just started to feel a little something again right at the end but I knew we were essentially done, so I just let it go.
Then I was wheeled back to recovery. On the way back, the doctor explained that fatty tissue doesn't show up on the scans, so that's why they couldn't see it. It'll be sent to pathology to make sure, but she's not concerned.
Since I didn't really need to recover, I spent less than 10 minutes in the initial recovery room, then they took me back downstairs to "my" room.
They brought me apple juice & chocolate pudding and let me get dressed. We waited for someone to come down from L&D to listen to the baby again, and once that was done, we were on our way.
We stopped and had lunch on the way home.
Honestly, I feel pretty good.
My boob is encased in a weird styrofoam sticker thing. When the numbing stuff wore off, it burned a little, but overall, it feels fine. I wouldn't want to get whacked in the boob, and the hubby got a sideways hug before bed, but honestly, I'm fine. I even made cupcakes for a bake sale at work.
I'm so glad I went with the local.
I'm definitely relieved. I'm glad it's over and can go back to my usual pregnancy obsessing instead of adding surgery & breast cancer fear obsessing to it.
Thanks for all the prayers and well-wishes. They paid off.
--Trish
All in all, it went as well is possibly could have.
I had a breakdown Monday night and cried out most of my fear. David was supportive, even though he threw in that "I have faith in you" thing that really stresses me out. He doesn't get why that isn't helpful. But he held me and comforted me and was a good husband. I felt a bit better after my cry.
This morning, I was awake before the alarm and more in "get it done" mode so I didn't think too much. We got to the hospital and registered. Everyone was very kind.
They offered to do a Doppler check before and after surgery w/o being asked. I told everyone who came in that I needed to speak to anesthesia because I wanted to go with just a local. Everyone was quite nice about my concerns. They made me take a pregnancy test, which amused both me and the nurse who had to do it. Though after reading this story, I suppose it was reasonable. My IV went in w/o a hitch. As I'm not an easy stick, I was extremely impressed. I actually asked out loud "You're done?" because I actually didn't believe it was that quick, or that painless.
The only person I had any trouble with all day was actually the only man I spoke to all day. That's not sexism, just a coincidence. He was from anesthesia. He came and told me they'd give me something "to relax" me. I said "I'm pregnant. I don't want that." He insisted it was low dose. I insisted I didn't want it. I never really got to the point of being outright bitchy, but the conversation ended with an uncomfortable silence and him walking away.
In the end, I got my way. No sedation at all. He wasn't part of the anesthesiolgists in the room with me, fortunately. My surgeon was completely on board with my wishes, thankfully.
The surgery itself went very well. Being awake was actually pretty cool. I should mention that I'm not remotely squeamish and do have a fairly decent pain tolerance. I'm not sure I'd recommend it for everyone, but I'm very happy with the choice I made.
All of the women in the room with me were wonderful. They talked to me the whole time, even offering to hold my hand. They basically got me ready for a MAC (basically- sleepy time) but it was to only be used if I couldn't handle the local. They cleaned up my left boob. That was amusing. I had betadine essentially from my belly button to my chin, down my left arm and over to my right boob. The worst part was that it was freezing in there. Why are operating rooms kept at 60? I commented to the staff that I didn't know how THEY weren't freezing (as they were piling warm blankets on me) and one of them replied "Well, we're not exposed, you have it worse." I told them if they all wanted to whip out their left boobs to feel my pain, they could feel free.
They told me the numbing shots would be the worst part. Honestly, I barely felt them. Then she got started. I could feel her working, but mostly just my boob moving. There was a drape over my head, so I couldn't see anything. It seriously couldn't have been 5 minutes before she said "Well, it's out. It was a nothing. A blobby thing. A fatty cyst." Relief!
At that point, I started to feel a little something, but before I could really sort through the thought, it BURNED. Right away, I spoke up. She stopped and numbed me up again. From there, everything was fine. I just started to feel a little something again right at the end but I knew we were essentially done, so I just let it go.
Then I was wheeled back to recovery. On the way back, the doctor explained that fatty tissue doesn't show up on the scans, so that's why they couldn't see it. It'll be sent to pathology to make sure, but she's not concerned.
Since I didn't really need to recover, I spent less than 10 minutes in the initial recovery room, then they took me back downstairs to "my" room.
They brought me apple juice & chocolate pudding and let me get dressed. We waited for someone to come down from L&D to listen to the baby again, and once that was done, we were on our way.
We stopped and had lunch on the way home.
Honestly, I feel pretty good.
My boob is encased in a weird styrofoam sticker thing. When the numbing stuff wore off, it burned a little, but overall, it feels fine. I wouldn't want to get whacked in the boob, and the hubby got a sideways hug before bed, but honestly, I'm fine. I even made cupcakes for a bake sale at work.
I'm so glad I went with the local.
I'm definitely relieved. I'm glad it's over and can go back to my usual pregnancy obsessing instead of adding surgery & breast cancer fear obsessing to it.
Thanks for all the prayers and well-wishes. They paid off.
--Trish
Monday, April 7, 2008
Nerves
It's Sunday night. My next OB appointment is in the morning. I have the usual pre-appointment jitters.
I don't really quite understand what causes it. I used the Doppler a couple of hours ago and all sounds fine. But I still feel anxious about the appointment tomorrow. My brain really needs to get the message. So far, so good.
I will say that I'm still freaked by the pains I had the other night. I've been pretty much fine since. I did have a contraction today after I spent a little while doing housework and fighting to get the duvet back on the comforter, but it was just a Braxton Hicks contraction (Didn't really hurt, just uncomfortable. I laid down and it eased pretty quickly.)
I also am really waiting for the point where the movement is more consistent. I know it's normal and I've even pretty much figured out that when the baby is laying low and in the middle, I can't feel anything, but it still troubles me.
I'm also already dreading Tuesday.
Tuesday is boob cutting day. I'm really hoping to talk them into just doing a local. I'm not skeeved by being awake at all. But I know that sometimes they prefer that you're out of it. I don't particularly care for anesthesia, anyway. After my "couldn't breathe when I woke up" incident after D&C #2, I'm particularly resistant to it. But my biggest concern is, of course, how it will affect the baby. I wish this damned lump had resolved itself.. or better yet, never came up at all.
And of course, there's also the whole what-if-the-lump-is-bad thing. Everyone seems pretty sure it's not, but it's not as though my body hasn't let me down time and time again, so I'm nervous.
So, that's where I stand. Nervous. As usual.
--Trish
I don't really quite understand what causes it. I used the Doppler a couple of hours ago and all sounds fine. But I still feel anxious about the appointment tomorrow. My brain really needs to get the message. So far, so good.
I will say that I'm still freaked by the pains I had the other night. I've been pretty much fine since. I did have a contraction today after I spent a little while doing housework and fighting to get the duvet back on the comforter, but it was just a Braxton Hicks contraction (Didn't really hurt, just uncomfortable. I laid down and it eased pretty quickly.)
I also am really waiting for the point where the movement is more consistent. I know it's normal and I've even pretty much figured out that when the baby is laying low and in the middle, I can't feel anything, but it still troubles me.
I'm also already dreading Tuesday.
Tuesday is boob cutting day. I'm really hoping to talk them into just doing a local. I'm not skeeved by being awake at all. But I know that sometimes they prefer that you're out of it. I don't particularly care for anesthesia, anyway. After my "couldn't breathe when I woke up" incident after D&C #2, I'm particularly resistant to it. But my biggest concern is, of course, how it will affect the baby. I wish this damned lump had resolved itself.. or better yet, never came up at all.
And of course, there's also the whole what-if-the-lump-is-bad thing. Everyone seems pretty sure it's not, but it's not as though my body hasn't let me down time and time again, so I'm nervous.
So, that's where I stand. Nervous. As usual.
--Trish
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Check in
Sorry for the quiet.
I have really been trying to work on my anxiety. Less obsession, more faith.
I had a good 6 day run.
In fact, Wednesday was almost euphoric. As you know, I live in the Midwest. As you may have heard, it's been raining. A LOT. Like, I'm trying to figure out if I could get away with my 3 cats and 1 dog counting as 2 pair when we start gathering the animals 2 by 2. What I'm saying is that it's been gloomy.
Wednesday, however, the sun came out to say hello. I got off work at 6 and was driving home and the sun on my face felt fantastic. The baby started kicking and jiggling around and it was a really a time of pure pleasure. When I got home, my dog greeted me at the door. We spent a few minutes in the yard. His little butt wiggling in excitement made me giggle. Wow. Joy. Where'd that come from?
Of course, the sun went down and the doubts came in. I thought "Hmm, I'll probably pay for this. The other shoe will drop any time now." Yes, that's me- pure optimism.
Wednesday I slept well. I even propped myself on some pillows and slept on my back for about 2 hours. It felt good, even though I knew I might regret it. Too much time on my back usually ends with me waking up in pain.
Thursday morning I felt pretty good. The day was going well enough until I went to pee. I wiped. hmm.. that looks sort of... pink. Shit. Wipe again... no.. that's actually... RED.. But wait.. that seems to be oddly placed on the toilet paper. Let me investigate further. (As a side note, there was someone else in the bathroom with me. I wonder if they wondered why I kept going back for more toilet paper.) I determined that it was PROBABLY actually my skin bleeding. But I couldn't be sure. Of course, I'm using that sandpaper-like industrial toilet paper at work so if it is my skin, all this "investigating" isn't helping.
I went back to my desk and tried to tell myself to calm down. It's just my skin. It's just my skin. The baby is fine. Wow, I really wish the baby would decide to kick about now. My hands started to shake. I tried to take some deep breaths. I checked the time. It was about 3 1/2 hours into my day. If I took a half a vacation day I could leave shortly. I could go home and investigate and most importantly- get to my Doppler. I arranged for a half vacation day and left shortly thereafter.
I got home and very nearly dove for the Doppler. The baby was fine. Heart pulsing away. I got a mirror. Hmm.. I see... nothing. To the bathroom. I pee.. WOW that burns. It seems I have a small cut or tear on my lady bits. PSA: Don't pee on an open wound. It burns.
I decide that I'm still insane and that I'm going to use my day to catch up on some sleep. I thought that if this was the other shoe dropping, it wasn't so bad. I spent the rest of the day in bed.
I woke up later and something stunk. It's a long story, but I think one of the cats managed to drag a not-so-clean butt across my bed and I was dying. The husband seemed blissfully unaware, but I was having no part of it. So I spent most of the evening washing everything in the bedroom. (Took me a while to figure out what the source was.) There was lots of bending, reaching, pulling etc. But I finally cured it.
At around midnight, the back pain started. I don't know if it was the back sleeping, the laying around, or the housework- probably some combo. It was the worst back ache I've ever had. It was a radiating pain that made me feel crampy as well.
I tried to go to bed. That made it worse. After laying in pain for an hour, I had almost convinced myself I was in labor. Yes, it hurt that bad. The only thing that was comforting me is that the pain was constant, not cycling, and that I wasn't feeling anything distinctly in my uterus.
I would occasionally doze off and dream about being in labor, then wake up in pain again. This was surely the other shoe dropping for real.
I woke up before the alarm and got the Doppler. Baby still sounded fine. I felt a little better, but my back still hurt. I talked myself out of the labor theory and went to work.
As the day went on, my back pain finally eased. It left behind a very crampy, bloated feeling. Much like my period was going to start. Now, I've had several rounds of that with this pregnancy, so I told myself about a hundred times that it wasn't uncommon. After downing 4 or 5 cups of water, I finally started to feel better. By the end of the day, I felt almost normal. The baby started kicking a bit, even having a cute moment where my belly growled in hunger and it seemed the baby answered with a little tap.
I worked the whole day. Came home and checked the baby again- all is well. I am glad to be seeing the doctor on Monday, but I made it through 24 hours of uber-anxiety and didn't lose it. I'll call it success.
However, I often feel like worry is a sin. If I'm worried about it, then I'm not putting it in His hands. I discussed it with some friends today and they were encouraging, but I still feel guilty about it.
Tonight my husband came in with the mail and I received the sweetest card from a friend. It was essentially a reminder that even when I feel like I'm losing it, to remember that He has a tight grip on it. I bawled and bawled and bawled. I needed that today.
Thank God for great friends. And healthy babies.
--Trish
I have really been trying to work on my anxiety. Less obsession, more faith.
I had a good 6 day run.
In fact, Wednesday was almost euphoric. As you know, I live in the Midwest. As you may have heard, it's been raining. A LOT. Like, I'm trying to figure out if I could get away with my 3 cats and 1 dog counting as 2 pair when we start gathering the animals 2 by 2. What I'm saying is that it's been gloomy.
Wednesday, however, the sun came out to say hello. I got off work at 6 and was driving home and the sun on my face felt fantastic. The baby started kicking and jiggling around and it was a really a time of pure pleasure. When I got home, my dog greeted me at the door. We spent a few minutes in the yard. His little butt wiggling in excitement made me giggle. Wow. Joy. Where'd that come from?
Of course, the sun went down and the doubts came in. I thought "Hmm, I'll probably pay for this. The other shoe will drop any time now." Yes, that's me- pure optimism.
Wednesday I slept well. I even propped myself on some pillows and slept on my back for about 2 hours. It felt good, even though I knew I might regret it. Too much time on my back usually ends with me waking up in pain.
Thursday morning I felt pretty good. The day was going well enough until I went to pee. I wiped. hmm.. that looks sort of... pink. Shit. Wipe again... no.. that's actually... RED.. But wait.. that seems to be oddly placed on the toilet paper. Let me investigate further. (As a side note, there was someone else in the bathroom with me. I wonder if they wondered why I kept going back for more toilet paper.) I determined that it was PROBABLY actually my skin bleeding. But I couldn't be sure. Of course, I'm using that sandpaper-like industrial toilet paper at work so if it is my skin, all this "investigating" isn't helping.
I went back to my desk and tried to tell myself to calm down. It's just my skin. It's just my skin. The baby is fine. Wow, I really wish the baby would decide to kick about now. My hands started to shake. I tried to take some deep breaths. I checked the time. It was about 3 1/2 hours into my day. If I took a half a vacation day I could leave shortly. I could go home and investigate and most importantly- get to my Doppler. I arranged for a half vacation day and left shortly thereafter.
I got home and very nearly dove for the Doppler. The baby was fine. Heart pulsing away. I got a mirror. Hmm.. I see... nothing. To the bathroom. I pee.. WOW that burns. It seems I have a small cut or tear on my lady bits. PSA: Don't pee on an open wound. It burns.
I decide that I'm still insane and that I'm going to use my day to catch up on some sleep. I thought that if this was the other shoe dropping, it wasn't so bad. I spent the rest of the day in bed.
I woke up later and something stunk. It's a long story, but I think one of the cats managed to drag a not-so-clean butt across my bed and I was dying. The husband seemed blissfully unaware, but I was having no part of it. So I spent most of the evening washing everything in the bedroom. (Took me a while to figure out what the source was.) There was lots of bending, reaching, pulling etc. But I finally cured it.
At around midnight, the back pain started. I don't know if it was the back sleeping, the laying around, or the housework- probably some combo. It was the worst back ache I've ever had. It was a radiating pain that made me feel crampy as well.
I tried to go to bed. That made it worse. After laying in pain for an hour, I had almost convinced myself I was in labor. Yes, it hurt that bad. The only thing that was comforting me is that the pain was constant, not cycling, and that I wasn't feeling anything distinctly in my uterus.
I would occasionally doze off and dream about being in labor, then wake up in pain again. This was surely the other shoe dropping for real.
I woke up before the alarm and got the Doppler. Baby still sounded fine. I felt a little better, but my back still hurt. I talked myself out of the labor theory and went to work.
As the day went on, my back pain finally eased. It left behind a very crampy, bloated feeling. Much like my period was going to start. Now, I've had several rounds of that with this pregnancy, so I told myself about a hundred times that it wasn't uncommon. After downing 4 or 5 cups of water, I finally started to feel better. By the end of the day, I felt almost normal. The baby started kicking a bit, even having a cute moment where my belly growled in hunger and it seemed the baby answered with a little tap.
I worked the whole day. Came home and checked the baby again- all is well. I am glad to be seeing the doctor on Monday, but I made it through 24 hours of uber-anxiety and didn't lose it. I'll call it success.
However, I often feel like worry is a sin. If I'm worried about it, then I'm not putting it in His hands. I discussed it with some friends today and they were encouraging, but I still feel guilty about it.
Tonight my husband came in with the mail and I received the sweetest card from a friend. It was essentially a reminder that even when I feel like I'm losing it, to remember that He has a tight grip on it. I bawled and bawled and bawled. I needed that today.
Thank God for great friends. And healthy babies.
--Trish
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)