Lazy Posting

I just read the title of my blog again. "Surviving a subchorionic hematoma."

Surviving.

That is what I have been doing for over a year now. Just... surviving. I haven't been living. I haven't been fully and truly living and enjoying my life. I've been so scared, cowering from the fear of pain, loss, grief. The fear that we're going to go through another cataclysmic event. I am surviving.

And surviving--that is important. Probably just as important as living, because no one goes from pure, earth-shaking, heart-wrenching grief to fully living. The surviving is the middle stage. I needed to learn how to survive again, because there were times where I wasn't sure how I could. And even now, with life turning around for us a bit, and a healthy baby kicking my ribs, the thought of LIVING seems like a far-off, distant possibility.

But I see it again. I see it in my future... there is a little light shining ahead of me, glowing in the distance, almost within my grasp. A light where dreams come true, hard work pays off, and happiness can be found. My fear is still muting it. Trust me, I'm terrified. And I don't know if I'll be able to breathe easily until I hear my daughter screaming, and find out she's healthy. I know that I've got at least another week left before I am able to start moving towards that light of living.

Do I regret getting pregnant so quickly after my loss? In some ways, I feel like she got robbed. In some ways, I wish we had waited a little longer to allow the healing to have gotten further along. But, could we have fully healed not knowing if we could do the one thing we want most? Complete our family? I honestly don't know. Waiting could have prolonged the suffering even more.

But here we are, on the dawn of a new chapter. In so many ways. I just got a promotion at work, I can finally believe and trust that things might be okay financially. We can afford a new roof once I pay off some debt, in a few months I'll be able to start fixing stuff around the house that have been put on hold (rock beds, de-weeding, fence mending, power washing, getting into the attic, painting...)

These are all little glimmers of hope. Of light. Of a future I can believe in again. Did this baby suffer? I don't think so. She certainly won't when she's here. My fear has not kept either of us from bonding with her. If anything, we are too attached, and I am more scared of that than anything else. She is probably the most loved child on the planet right now (yea, yea, you think your baby is, you are wrong ;) ). So did she suffer for it? No. Will she? No. She is part of my glimmer of light.

And even if something happens... at least I can know that through the darkness and from the ashes I can rise yet again. We are all able to be reborn. So we learned from childhood Sunday school, and so we experience over and over again. And while I'm just a little fledgling, I am starting to believe that life is good again. It's hard, and sad, and scary, and bad stuff happens. Yes, it does. But it doesn't ALWAYS have to be bad.

So, give me a few more days of "survival", and then, we'll move into the living portion, where I start pulling back the shades and dipping my toe into the pool of life again. That's the hope, that's what I pray for, and that's what we're working towards. While I have no control of anything, that's where I'm at right now. It's the only way I can accept the past 16 months.

Baby update - no real contractions, no more braxton hicks, no mucus plug, baby in my ribs. No real progress. guessing no more dilation (we were at 1 cm for two weeks). While this doesn't mean jack, it also definitely doesn't mean I am in labor, and that's what we're aiming for!

Next appointment is friday, where I will be asking to schedule an induction / c-section. Physically, I feel wonderful! Hips are alright, sleeping not great, but sleeping, I am hot and sweaty and smell bad, and I officially can't eat dairy anymore because it tastes horribly disgusting. But mentally? Mentally, i am exhausted. Mentally, I am drained. Mentally there isn't much left. Work is sucking up the majority of the stamina I have left, and baby stuff... don't even get me started. The waiting. The watching. The not knowing. My brain is just about at the end of its rope. So yea, while I could go two more weeks physically, I am pretty much burnt out emotionally, and that's a scary place to be. So I should have more information for the blog after my appointment Friday. Last Wednesday we were "1 and a wiggle cm" dilated, cervix long and firm, but coming 'forward'. BP was 130/80 (creeping up). My hands are numb and tingly and puffy from carpal tunnel, my feet are like sausages, but the baby isn't showing any signs of being ready. I am frustrated and upset at my doctor (probably mostly hormonal, because logically I know why my baby isn't here in my arms yet, wiggling around. but emotionally, I am so mad that she's not after months of hearing we'd go early).

Yea... it's a weird place to be. A true holding pattern. Like the planes that land in London, circling around the river Thames, watching the Eye spin around, and cars attempt to get through gridlock, and Big Ben standing proud over his city. I'm just up here watching, waiting, and praying. Hoping for the best, and looking forward to the future. Finally, a future with light I can see.

-Em

Sugar

So I officially failed my hour glucose screen, the goal is under 140, and my score was 150. So today I went back and did the three hour glucose test to see if I have gestational diabetes.

If you can avoid this, I recommend doing so at all costs. It involved four blood draws (and one failed poke, so five total). The first hour and a half I thought I was going to pass out and really thought I was going to throw up and I fought through it because I did NOT want to start over again. By hour two, I felt great! like my body had kicked into gear and was processing the sugar.

All in all, I say it's not as bad as I thought it would be, but also not a barrel of laughs. So if you can eat healthy and avoid failing your hour screening, do it. Because this sucks.

That being said, for the past two days I've been following the diabetic guidelines for eating, and I actually lost two lbs! Down to 297. So I think, regardless of the results, I am going to try to stick with this method of eating and know that I am prone to it (my mother and aunt both have diabetes). I don't want to test my sugars all day, but having counseling and strict guidelines would help me, I think. So while I'm not wishing for a positive by any means, at least some good will come out of this.

Some other weird stuff, the green goo came back ,and then disappeared again. My doctor prescribed more flagyl, but I am waiting to take it to see if it returns. My rash comes and goes, but it's gone right now.  And it is an incredibly GORGEOUS day here, 61 degrees and sunny, so I'm going to get out for a walk tonight. The baby has moved up off my pelvis (I honestly laid with my legs up on the wall for about two hours on Monday, and I think it worked). So I am getting out there. No excuses left. I also ordered a pair of maternity capris from old navy which should make working out more comfortable.

So that's my update today. If I get news about test results from my doctor tomrorow I will share them. At this point, I'm just leaving it out there and not going to worry about it, because there's nothing I can do. Oh, and I'm uploading a chart my coworker and I created to help me through some anxiety. Who knows, it might help someone else.

-Emily

Spring Cleaning

I read an interesting article last night that said patients who are told to log symptoms had almost double the amount of negative feelings, perceived worsening symptoms, or additional symptoms. Apparently, the practice of writing out problems adds to them, almost like a snowball growing as it rolls down a hill (and eventually turning into an avalanche). 

With that in mind, I want to change the format of my journaling slightly. I still am going to be 100% honest about what I'm experiencing, but I will try to throw in some positives, too. Sometimes, the positives get lost in the craziness. 

After my crazy cleaning frenzy on Sunday, I have officially slowed down on the brown bleeding. There is still slight discharge, but it is nothing like that Monday afternoon. This tells me I need to keep taking it easy until that baby gets a little bigger. Next Tuesday is the appointment, and I'm hoping we get a scan scheduled quickly so we can get an idea of what is happening. I decided to keep taking the aspirin. After reading several studies and outcomes across the globe, there appears to be very little evidence that baby aspirin  causes defects. And for women with clotting issues, is used to almost term. I do not think I will need to take it to term, but I think I am okay for now. Again, we'll see what happens next week. The hematoma shrunk from week 8 to week 10 and I was not taking the aspirin, so maybe I will wait until next week to see if it is continuing to go down in size. 

I will tell you, I keep a pair of "miscarriage" pants in my work bag, in case I get another huge gush of blood. Is that morbid? Probably. but it makes me feel better. And I am yet to get excited. I've mentally told myself that 20 weeks I will start feeling better. But sometimes, I let just the smallest inkling of positivity through, and I realize how truly, fully, 100% I want this child happy and healthy. 

So, some positive things I've been experiencing, that maybe don't sound positive, but since I didn't have these last time, they are positive to me - 

• OUTRAGEOUS hormones. I am a nut job. Seriously. Everything makes me weep, or angry, or happy. And it bounces around hourly. I'm not even kidding you, this is insane. 
• Nausea. Every morning, sometimes gagging, often times smell-based, rarely puking (only once) but just extreme nausea. 
• Fatigue (okay that was there last time :) ). 
• Constipation. Prune juice every night is what the doctor ordered. Once I get too backed up I feel like I am the size of a beach ball. It's nuts! Our friends told us that they had the husband physically clean out the wife's bottom side when it happened. That's not even an option for us, so prune juice it is.
• Food aversions and cravings. Last time I wanted Mac n Cheese and fried chicken. This time I want fruit juice, cakes, sweets, and FRESH food. I will walk an extra mile to get something that looks "real" instead of something processed. (let's hope that mentality continues on)
• Knock on wood, no major bleeds. I might kick myself for saying this if it does happen, but for now I'm going to count my blessings that I have not had one of these yet.  
• Nipples feel like tiny little needs are stabbing them anytime they get rubbed up against, knocked, or touched. They are ANGRY.

See? There are positives this time that I did not have last time, and because of that, I am going to hope and pray that this baby is healthy, and we are on track. :) The higher heart rate still gives me pause, but I will ask the doctor about that next week. 

I also think we might be getting closer to the second trimester physically, because I am no longer dead asleep by 6pm. It's good stuff. 

Anyways, as always, I will keep this updated with my decisions and what I'm doing. Unfortunately, I was not able to keep taking all my vitamins. It just made me gag. So I need to get back to it. Progesterone, pre natal, and vinger for now. I want to add back in vitamin K and e and omega 3s. I am stopping by Target today to grab some more. 

Alright, that's it for today. 
-Emily

Goodbye Ireland, Hello Reality

My relationship thus far with pregnancy has been for me to give my body, mind, and soul to the tiny human growing inside me, with no end result. No baby to take home. Emphasis on giving the body, btw. I have now spent about 5 months total being pregnant between this pregnancy and the last. Five months gone to ..... a question mark. So you could say my attitude towards this fetus is one of uncertainty. I am (more than) half positive it will end in miscarriage. That is what my odds have been thus far, and we are products of our experiences. 

I am trying to stay positive, yes of course, I want this to happen. And literally every day we inch closer to 40 weeks I feel a percentage point of worry drop off. I want things to be right. Things to go smoothly as it does for so many other women. Once we hit February 12, our official 12 week point, I think I might start relaxing into the joy and love those around me are expressing for our little "blip". This time, my mother has started finding nursery theme ideas, and my husband is planning on how to set up the nursery. And in my mind, all I can think about is "we'll discuss all of this in July when the baby is healthy and viable." I've had two offers for baby showers, which seems so far away to me, I can't even begin to imagine it happening. I honestly can't imagine August 26 - our official due date - being a real day. For me, it is hour-by-hour, week-by-week. Hell, I just bought another 40 pack of overnight pads, because I wear them all day "just in case". 

Maybe I'm neurotic... It's possible. Sometimes I feel like I am.

But I also am trying to be stronger and better and not being so completely devastated again. 

Yes, I went to Destination Maternity and bought some cute work tops and pants and leggings. And I will need workout clothes, too, because I am supposed to lose 10 lbs throughout this pregnancy. (Trust me, I am planning on making that happen). (It needs to happen). But still, it just doesn't feel real. I also think that last time the clot was causing friction and pain, because I FELT my uterus. And it didn't feel great. This time, I feel nothing. Some days, I don't even remember I am pregnant. That is so ultimately different from last time. I'm not complaining. And yes, there is nausea. I feel like there is something stuck in my throat and depending on what I see or smell, it could cause a major upchuck. Luckily, this has so far not been the case! The women on my mother's side are blessed with uneventful pregnancies as far as nausea goes. 

Anyways, my point is, I am jonesing for a drink. Anxious to get back to staying up past 6pm, and so ready to know if this is "going to happen." Last week we were supposed to be on a flight to Ireland. Right before we got on the transatlantic leg of our journey, I started bleeding/spotting light pink. I lost it. We were on the plane, and I lost my mind. Anxiety took over, and I panicked. My husband freaked out, and we were so concerned about having a MC on a plane (one of the smallest planes I've ever seen as far as international flights) over the ocean. I couldn't handle that thought. So we disembarked, and stayed in the city for a week instead of going over to Ireland.

My reaction surprised me. I thought I was being so practical and realistic about this one, but my reaction and fear on the plane showed me that, not so deep-down, I am terrified of this little nugget leaving us. We did the unthinkable (as far as my fear of making waves goes). We changed our course of action for the safety of me and our unborn baby. And while that might sound sweet, part of me is very, very upset that we gave up the trip of a lifetime for a big old fat question mark. And if we do miscarry again, I will feel like it was all for naught.

I don't know if this post has a point. Except to say that I am beyond fear. I am terrified. I am beside myself in uncertainty. I am worried about what will come. I wish I knew the answer, I guess that's the joy of life, we can't know what lies ahead. All we can do is our best. and I would stop the world for my child, I just hope it decides to stick around and be healthy. Because we're all in, baby. We're committed and even though we're scared shitless, I am starting... teensy tiny bits... to come around to the idea that this might happen. That we might have a child in August. That life is changing. 

Anyways, not a big update, just wanted to let you know we never made it overseas, and I'm in a weird mental place. Next OB appointment is Feb 10th, so two weeks away. 

Life is weird. I am weird. Life is changing. I am changing. That is all.

-Emily