I haven't posted in a little while because I didn't have anything special to say, but I realized that in sharing my day-to-day struggles I am also saying a lot. My main purpose in sharing this blog, besides healing myself and updating family and friends about my condition, is to put my grief in the open. Not just the happy, spiritual things, but the messy stuff. In my experience, not many people understand that grieving is a daily process that does not go in a linear path. And it lasts for your entire life. You never know what it's going to be like when you wake up in the morning. It is always one step forward and then two steps back. That's what makes it frustrating.
I was doing pretty well for a week or so. Then it never fails that something brings it all back. When it rains, it pours. As soon as I break down about something, the next few days when I am sensitive emotionally is when I will see all the little baby boys and the pregnant women and the families together. Nick and I were at a hockey game, and out of all the people we could sit next to, there was a couple with a little 3 1/2 week old baby boy. It was loud and he was screaming at the top of his lungs because of the noise, but the parents just let him scream and cry. It made me mad and sad. I wiped my tears for about 15 minutes, but eventually I couldn't handle it and slumped on Nick. We had to change our seats. I am crying about even now.
It's not just the hockey games. It's going to the park and seeing families, and wondering if we are ever going to be like that; knowing that our family will always be one short. It's hearing about parents that abuse their children, knowing that we would have done anything just to have our little boy here to love and cherish. It's watching our friends grow their families when our house is so empty. It's seeing the new baby pictures, ultrasounds, and pregnant bellies when all we have is a tiny plot of grass in the cemetery. It's watching my husband cry his heart out, knowing I am helpless to ease his pain. And most of all, it's knowing that even through all this loss I may have permanently lost some of my health or my ability to carry a child.
We will have been married a year on June 16, which ironically is Father's day. We thought we would have a 2 week old by then. I am about a month away from my due date. We have been through things in 10 1/2 months that most couples don't go through in their entire marriages.
"How long, Lord? How long?" This is what the priest said in his homily at Peter's funeral. How long until we see His face? This world is just a valley of tears until we get to Heaven and see Jesus and our son. Oh how I long for Heaven, but I know I was left in this world to accomplish something big. I don't know what that is yet, but I pray I will find it soon. And I will honor my son in my life.
So I guess what I am trying to say is that daily life is not always pretty and there are a lot of questions, but I continue to hang on. Keep praying for us, and I pray for all of you too.
Take care,
Lauren
Monday, April 29, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
I just wanna be mad for a while
I've been trying to write this post for about a week. You see, I need quiet and relaxation to be able to write well and there hasn't been too much of that lately. Not that this is a bad thing. I'm really glad to be able to keep busy. But I have had thoughts building inside of me.
In the midst of everything going on, I am not quite sure where God fits in. For the first month after we lost Peter, I could not even acknowledge Him because I was so mad at Him. Not for causing my sickness and our son's death, but for not stopping it. I did not understand why He could work His miracles in such amazing ways and then just leave us without even a small miracle. That whole month was full of darkness and hurt -- sometimes so bad I could hardly breathe.
After about a month of that, I realized that although I wanted answers right now, I will not get them. Through the help of a wonderful priest, I was able to let go of needing to know why this happened the way it did. In the process, I was able to let God into my heart for the first time. He has done some healing and offered us some wonderful graces, but I realized recently that I am still mad at Him. I know He understands.
I was doing so well with my fluid loss, and then somehow it is all back on me again. I look like heck, sometimes I feel like heck. It never seems to end. I can't help but wonder if God could have at least given me a break on this after all we've been through. Sometimes I'm scared out of my mind that I will end up back in the hospital on the list for a kidney transplant.
I don't understand His ways. The God I thought I knew was a God of mercies who would never leave His loved ones without help. This seems very unlike Him. Like Job, I cry out from the depths to the God who has afflicted me. All of the saints have been through things like this. The only thing is, I'm no saint. I'm certainly trying to get to Heaven to see my son, but if God is looking for heroic things, I don't measure up at all.
The good thing about having your son as a saint in Heaven is that he will be up there praying for me all the time. And when I can't go straight to God, I can ask Peter to go sit on Jesus' lap and ask Him for a favor. Talk about having a direct line! I love him so much and I know that his prayers are the only thing holding me together right now.
I still love God and trust Him, but like the Terri Clark song says, "I just wanna be mad for a while".
In the midst of everything going on, I am not quite sure where God fits in. For the first month after we lost Peter, I could not even acknowledge Him because I was so mad at Him. Not for causing my sickness and our son's death, but for not stopping it. I did not understand why He could work His miracles in such amazing ways and then just leave us without even a small miracle. That whole month was full of darkness and hurt -- sometimes so bad I could hardly breathe.
After about a month of that, I realized that although I wanted answers right now, I will not get them. Through the help of a wonderful priest, I was able to let go of needing to know why this happened the way it did. In the process, I was able to let God into my heart for the first time. He has done some healing and offered us some wonderful graces, but I realized recently that I am still mad at Him. I know He understands.
I am mad that my pregnancy was interrupted and I got cheated out of the 3 months of pregnancy I should have had.
I am mad that my son had to try to survive outside my womb, where he should have been safe.
I am mad that my son did not survive and we had to bury him.
I am mad that I have to watch myself and my loved ones in such agony and grief.
I am mad that I am still suffering from the effects of the preeclampsia 2 months later with no end in sight.
I was doing so well with my fluid loss, and then somehow it is all back on me again. I look like heck, sometimes I feel like heck. It never seems to end. I can't help but wonder if God could have at least given me a break on this after all we've been through. Sometimes I'm scared out of my mind that I will end up back in the hospital on the list for a kidney transplant.
I don't understand His ways. The God I thought I knew was a God of mercies who would never leave His loved ones without help. This seems very unlike Him. Like Job, I cry out from the depths to the God who has afflicted me. All of the saints have been through things like this. The only thing is, I'm no saint. I'm certainly trying to get to Heaven to see my son, but if God is looking for heroic things, I don't measure up at all.
The good thing about having your son as a saint in Heaven is that he will be up there praying for me all the time. And when I can't go straight to God, I can ask Peter to go sit on Jesus' lap and ask Him for a favor. Talk about having a direct line! I love him so much and I know that his prayers are the only thing holding me together right now.
I still love God and trust Him, but like the Terri Clark song says, "I just wanna be mad for a while".
Saturday, April 13, 2013
I'm going back to high school
I got a phone call yesterday from Babies R Us asking me if I had received my 10% completion coupon for my registry and if I was coming in to stock up on last minute baby items. After politely telling the clueless sales girl that I would not be coming in because my baby was not here anymore, I realized that I am so sick of all of this pain. That's it--I'm going back to high school. It was so much easier then.
Between hospital bills, encounters with babies and pregnant moms, phone calls like that, and the countless little things that remind me that this was most certainly not a dream, I give up. I need a break. This week has been the toughest since we lost Peter, not because the pain is any worse, but because of the little reminders that come up. Everyone else is moving on and here I am with my heart half torn out just trying to survive another day. I didn't expect it to be like this.
It's just that everyone else is going back to normal and our life will never be "normal" again. We have to learn to live with half of our hearts missing. Not an easy thing to do. We can never go back to where we were before Peter was created, not that we would want to. But it would be nice to have a break sometimes.
Fluid loss is finally to 10 lbs!
Between hospital bills, encounters with babies and pregnant moms, phone calls like that, and the countless little things that remind me that this was most certainly not a dream, I give up. I need a break. This week has been the toughest since we lost Peter, not because the pain is any worse, but because of the little reminders that come up. Everyone else is moving on and here I am with my heart half torn out just trying to survive another day. I didn't expect it to be like this.
It's just that everyone else is going back to normal and our life will never be "normal" again. We have to learn to live with half of our hearts missing. Not an easy thing to do. We can never go back to where we were before Peter was created, not that we would want to. But it would be nice to have a break sometimes.
Fluid loss is finally to 10 lbs!
Monday, April 8, 2013
Rolling in the waves
When I was preparing to leave the hospital, a grief counselor there told me that the grief is like standing at the beach right at the edge of the surf. She was so right. You never know if the waves are going to be small and just hit your ankles or if they are going to go over your head and completely engulf you and knock you over. After a few weeks of ankle-sized waves, a huge crusher totally blindsided me.
For those of you who don't know, I grew up on the east coast of Florida. I am very familiar with the beach and the waves. I grew up playing in the surf and it has always been a place of comfort for me. All of a sudden, waves and waves of grief are crashing into my beach of comfort.
I should have been 32 weeks today. I was supposed to be decorating Peter's nursery, getting him really cute clothes, feeling him kick me, and having my back hurt from my big belly. Instead, I'm 2 months into a lifetime of grief and my belly is getting smaller as the extra fluid flows out of my body. It wasn't supposed to be this way; it doesn't make any sense.
My mom asked me what my heart looked like now and I told her that it is missing the half that Peter took with him to Heaven. The other half, which belongs equally to God, my husband and my family, is bleeding profusely. My heart is empty, as is my womb.
It's not as if I have given up hope. I am incredibly hope-filled because my son is in Heaven praying for us and if I do things right I will get to be there to see him again and spend eternity holding him. As much as my head understands that, my heart is so drowned in pain that it cannot find that joy right now. I know eventually it will. God has given me the grace to be able to endure patiently in my sorrow. I will always hold Peter in my heart.
For those of you who don't know, I grew up on the east coast of Florida. I am very familiar with the beach and the waves. I grew up playing in the surf and it has always been a place of comfort for me. All of a sudden, waves and waves of grief are crashing into my beach of comfort.
I should have been 32 weeks today. I was supposed to be decorating Peter's nursery, getting him really cute clothes, feeling him kick me, and having my back hurt from my big belly. Instead, I'm 2 months into a lifetime of grief and my belly is getting smaller as the extra fluid flows out of my body. It wasn't supposed to be this way; it doesn't make any sense.
My mom asked me what my heart looked like now and I told her that it is missing the half that Peter took with him to Heaven. The other half, which belongs equally to God, my husband and my family, is bleeding profusely. My heart is empty, as is my womb.
It's not as if I have given up hope. I am incredibly hope-filled because my son is in Heaven praying for us and if I do things right I will get to be there to see him again and spend eternity holding him. As much as my head understands that, my heart is so drowned in pain that it cannot find that joy right now. I know eventually it will. God has given me the grace to be able to endure patiently in my sorrow. I will always hold Peter in my heart.
I'm trading my sorrows
The quote that I used for the title comes from a song called "Trading My Sorrows" by Darrell Evans that I used to sing in youth group in high school. I used to think it was kind of corny, but in the past few days, the words have come to me in my mind and really struck me. Here are the lyrics:
I'm trading my sorrow
I'm trading my shame
I'm laying it down for the joy of the Lord
I'm trading my sickness
I'm trading my pain
I'm laying it down for the joy of the Lord
[Chorus]
And we say yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord
Yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord
Yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord Amen
I'm pressed but not crushed persecuted not abandoned
Struck down but not destroyed
I'm blessed beyond the curse for his promise will endure
And his joy's gonna be my strength
Though the sorrow may last for the night
His joy comes in the morning.
What strong faith is needed to be able to turn sorrow into joy. I'm really trying but it's hard to know the joy of Easter when you are stuck in the pain of Good Friday. I'm joining in with Mary's sorrow as she watched her son die before her. I, too, watched as my son slowly died before me, helpless to do anything about it. I feel like this entire Lent has been one long Good Friday for us ever since Peter passed away on Ash Wednesday. But just like Mary, my son saved my life. And her Son saved my life, too.
Catholic tradition holds that after Jesus was taken from the Cross, he was laid in his mother's arms. Oh, I know that pain; I held my dying son in my arms as he took his final breaths and after he passed into Heaven. There is no pain like a mother's pain after having kept him safe in your womb for months and months, suffering the pains of childbirth, and then to not be able to protect him anymore. I cried and cried during the Good Friday service not just for us and our son, but for Jesus and his mother. Those two suffered so much more than we could ever imagine.
Although I know that I am certainly no Virgin Mary, it helps me to know she is right there with me in my grief. And the Father watched as His only Son was rejected and slain for our sins. I'm in good company.
PS--I'm starting to feel a lot better on my new diet. Already lost 9 lbs of fluid!
I'm trading my sorrow
I'm trading my shame
I'm laying it down for the joy of the Lord
I'm trading my sickness
I'm trading my pain
I'm laying it down for the joy of the Lord
[Chorus]
And we say yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord
Yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord
Yes Lord yes Lord yes yes Lord Amen
I'm pressed but not crushed persecuted not abandoned
Struck down but not destroyed
I'm blessed beyond the curse for his promise will endure
And his joy's gonna be my strength
Though the sorrow may last for the night
His joy comes in the morning.
What strong faith is needed to be able to turn sorrow into joy. I'm really trying but it's hard to know the joy of Easter when you are stuck in the pain of Good Friday. I'm joining in with Mary's sorrow as she watched her son die before her. I, too, watched as my son slowly died before me, helpless to do anything about it. I feel like this entire Lent has been one long Good Friday for us ever since Peter passed away on Ash Wednesday. But just like Mary, my son saved my life. And her Son saved my life, too.
Catholic tradition holds that after Jesus was taken from the Cross, he was laid in his mother's arms. Oh, I know that pain; I held my dying son in my arms as he took his final breaths and after he passed into Heaven. There is no pain like a mother's pain after having kept him safe in your womb for months and months, suffering the pains of childbirth, and then to not be able to protect him anymore. I cried and cried during the Good Friday service not just for us and our son, but for Jesus and his mother. Those two suffered so much more than we could ever imagine.
Although I know that I am certainly no Virgin Mary, it helps me to know she is right there with me in my grief. And the Father watched as His only Son was rejected and slain for our sins. I'm in good company.
PS--I'm starting to feel a lot better on my new diet. Already lost 9 lbs of fluid!
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Update on how I am doing after doctor visit
So I went to the nephrologist (kidney doctor) yesterday to get my one kidney checked out. The doctor said that my kidney went under tremendous stress during the pregnancy and preeclampsia and it is trying to recover. It is still having some trouble but he thinks if I go on a sodium free diet, exercise a lot, and continue with my blood pressure medicine I should be doing a lot better in a couple of months. Right now my body is keeping every bit of salt that comes in because my kidney is not filtering as well. I have gained at least 35-50 lbs, mostly of fluid, since I got pregnant. I gained 10 lbs of fluid in the last 2 weeks.
Sodium free - easy for him to say. Have you ever looked on the packages of everyday foods you eat and seen how much sodium there is in pretty much everything? I will do it because I want to get well, but it will be a very demanding diet. I will be cooking everything at home and will not be able to go out to eat at all. Even bread has a ton of sodium!
So I'll do this until June when they will check everything again. The hope is that by then my kidney will be back to normal and I will have lost quite a bit of fluid and weight and feel a lot better. The other thing they want to check is my thyroid function again. I developed hypothyroidism (thyroid under-producing the hormones) while I was pregnant and have been on medicine for that, but the doctor wonders if maybe I don't have the correct dosage yet.
So maybe not quite the news I was expecting, but I guess you can't be as sick as I was and get out unscathed. Please keep praying for me, I still have a long way to go before I am out of danger. At least I have a little baby saint up in Heaven praying all the time for his mommy.
Love you all,
Lauren
Sodium free - easy for him to say. Have you ever looked on the packages of everyday foods you eat and seen how much sodium there is in pretty much everything? I will do it because I want to get well, but it will be a very demanding diet. I will be cooking everything at home and will not be able to go out to eat at all. Even bread has a ton of sodium!
So I'll do this until June when they will check everything again. The hope is that by then my kidney will be back to normal and I will have lost quite a bit of fluid and weight and feel a lot better. The other thing they want to check is my thyroid function again. I developed hypothyroidism (thyroid under-producing the hormones) while I was pregnant and have been on medicine for that, but the doctor wonders if maybe I don't have the correct dosage yet.
So maybe not quite the news I was expecting, but I guess you can't be as sick as I was and get out unscathed. Please keep praying for me, I still have a long way to go before I am out of danger. At least I have a little baby saint up in Heaven praying all the time for his mommy.
Love you all,
Lauren
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
How am I doing?
I was thinking today that I haven't updated anyone about how I am feeling physically. About 2 weeks ago I saw my OB specialist again for my 6 week postpartum followup. Let me just say that I find it really hard to go there and be surrounded by pregnant women and babies. Pretty much every time I end up shaking uncontrollably. So I went to see my doctor and my blood pressure was almost 160/99. The doctor was worried that I had postpartum preeclampsia. They checked my urine and found trace amounts of protein. So they ordered more tests, another 24 hour urine sample (I hate those things!) and an echo cardiogram.
My urine sample came back with significantly elevated protein levels. I was feeling really bad--nauseous, bad headache, pain where my liver is, swollen, etc. Praise the Lord, my heart is good, my blood pressure is stable and my blood work is good! I have an appointment with a nephrologist (kidney doctor) tomorrow, but assuming that everything is OK, I will take the diagnosis of my mfm doctor that I am still fighting a milder form of the preeclampsia I had before. I am still pretty swollen, my headache comes and goes, and I have been having some really bad reflux and sore throat from that, but I am hopeful that I will get to come off my blood pressure medicine soon. I will update when I have more news. I just want this nightmare to be over so I can feel better. I feel like still having the preeclampsia is a constant reminder that this disease took my son and almost took me.
So how are we doing emotionally? I guess all I can say is as well as possible. Writing on here has really helped me get some of my feelings out. We both still have good and bad days. Good Friday was really rough. We both still have some sleepless nights, but I am already finding such blessings through these trials. I wish my husband did not have to work 2 jobs just so we can have health insurance. He barely has time to grieve. I pray and suffer for him and for everyone we love.
I feel like I am trying to live my life to the fullest since Peter is not able to live his. I pray that he will send down blessings from Heaven to us. Unfortunately, because of the medicine and that I was so sick, I am left with a lot of holes in my memories of him. I am also having some other problems with short term memory. It pains and angers me that my memories of the short time I did have with my son are not even complete. Sometimes I feel somewhat normal, and then something will hit me and I will be crying again. Most of the time I just feel numb.
But overall, I just feel loved--by God, by our little St. Peter Joseph, by Nick, by my parents and his, by our friends, and by people I don't even know who have heard of our story, some of whom are on here. The more people I share our story with, the lighter the grief gets. So for those of you who have not met our son, here he is:
Our sweet, sweet, little guy. Mommy loves you.
My urine sample came back with significantly elevated protein levels. I was feeling really bad--nauseous, bad headache, pain where my liver is, swollen, etc. Praise the Lord, my heart is good, my blood pressure is stable and my blood work is good! I have an appointment with a nephrologist (kidney doctor) tomorrow, but assuming that everything is OK, I will take the diagnosis of my mfm doctor that I am still fighting a milder form of the preeclampsia I had before. I am still pretty swollen, my headache comes and goes, and I have been having some really bad reflux and sore throat from that, but I am hopeful that I will get to come off my blood pressure medicine soon. I will update when I have more news. I just want this nightmare to be over so I can feel better. I feel like still having the preeclampsia is a constant reminder that this disease took my son and almost took me.
So how are we doing emotionally? I guess all I can say is as well as possible. Writing on here has really helped me get some of my feelings out. We both still have good and bad days. Good Friday was really rough. We both still have some sleepless nights, but I am already finding such blessings through these trials. I wish my husband did not have to work 2 jobs just so we can have health insurance. He barely has time to grieve. I pray and suffer for him and for everyone we love.
I feel like I am trying to live my life to the fullest since Peter is not able to live his. I pray that he will send down blessings from Heaven to us. Unfortunately, because of the medicine and that I was so sick, I am left with a lot of holes in my memories of him. I am also having some other problems with short term memory. It pains and angers me that my memories of the short time I did have with my son are not even complete. Sometimes I feel somewhat normal, and then something will hit me and I will be crying again. Most of the time I just feel numb.
But overall, I just feel loved--by God, by our little St. Peter Joseph, by Nick, by my parents and his, by our friends, and by people I don't even know who have heard of our story, some of whom are on here. The more people I share our story with, the lighter the grief gets. So for those of you who have not met our son, here he is:
Our sweet, sweet, little guy. Mommy loves you.
Monday, April 1, 2013
The rest of my story - long read
I ended the last post with my last few days before I entered the hospital. Here's the rest of the story:
On Saturday, February 2, 2012, I woke up, made breakfast, and then developed a splitting headache. I had had migraines in the past, but this one was pretty bad. I made Nick turn off all the lights, the TV and everything, and went to sleep hoping that would help. When I woke up, it was worse and I was seeing all kinds of weird shapes in my vision (auras). I was sensitive to light and sound, and I felt really nauseous. I stayed in bed all day, and when my in-laws invited us to dinner, I stayed home and told Nick to go without me. My swelling got worse, as did my headache.
I called my mom after he left and she suggested calling the physician line for our OBGYN group since I could not get anything to take away my headache. Maybe they could recommend something. I got a call back from Dr. S and she suggested that I come in to maternity triage at the hospital to get checked out and that maybe they could give me something for my headache. I called Nick and told him to finish dinner and get home. Little did I know that this would be my last time at home for over 2 weeks.
When we arrived at the hospital, my blood pressure was around 164/99. The nurse let me rest for a while and took the blood pressure every 15 minutes. They tested my blood and urine and waited for the results. We waited in a very hot room and I almost passed out. My blood pressure did not go down, and when they got my urine test back the protein was 0.8 (the norm is 0.3 or below). The resident doctor came in and told me that I might have preeclampsia and was being admitted for observation for 24 hours. I had heard of it, but had never bothered to read up about it since it only happens to 5% of pregnant women.
We both called our parents, who started heading to the hospital, and I got a room in the Special Care OB unit. When I got to the room, my blood pressure was 180/110, and the nurse called the resident. They gave me blood pressure medicine through my IV, which had taken 5 painful tries and 2 people to put in because of my severe swelling. I had to collect a 24 hour urine sample and measure my input and output. Our parents left at 3AM and we tried to sleep but so many people came in and out, checking my blood pressure, taking blood for testing, asking what I wanted to eat on the menu, etc.
The next day, my blood pressure was still up, but not as high. I was given an oral medicine to take for that and was put on strict bed rest. The rest of that day was a blur because I did not feel well and several people came to visit me. Nick was able to be with me and stay at night because I did not have a roommate. I was told I would be there until the next day at least.
That Monday, the results of my 24 hour urine test came back still elevated. My head still hurt, and my blood pressure was in the 140's and 150's even with medicine, but the doctor released me that afternoon, saying that I would have to be on bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy. My parents took me home to stay at their house because Nick was working 2 jobs and couldn't take care of me. I slept fitfully and woke up the next morning feeling really bad, but not being able to pinpoint why. I took my blood pressure with my parents' cuff and got a reading of 215/120. I called the doctor's office and they made an appointment for me that morning. We knew I would be going back into the hospital so my mom and I tried to pack some things in a suitcase.
At the hospital (where the OBGYN practice is), I tried to walk up the entrance and started to black out. My mom got me a wheelchair and we got up to the doctor's office. My blood pressure was 165/100, and I was extremely lightheaded. Dr. S was there again and she admitted me again to the hospital. Back to the same room again. My mom was staying with me day and night, and Nick and the rest of our family was visiting when they could.
By the time I saw a doctor next, I was told that I definitely had preeclampsia and that I would be staying at the hospital for the rest of my pregnancy, which they were hoping would be about 36 weeks. I would be on strict bed-rest and would be monitored constantly. I was 23 weeks along, so I was preparing for a long haul. Over 3 months in the hospital was a daunting prospect, but I could not have imagined what was ahead of me.
The rest of the week was a blur, with more tests and up and down days. They gave me a series of steroid shots to help improve Peter's lung growth in case he had to come out early. They also sent in a NICU doctor to give me a terrifying talk about the fact that there was a 20% survival rate at 23 weeks and that if Peter was born before 24 weeks they normally do not resuscitate. We prayed that I could make it to 24 weeks and celebrated when I finally did. Peter was passing all of his tests with flying colors.
On the weekend, my mom took a break and Nick stayed with me the whole time. On Sunday, my headache was worse, but I was OK until that night. My mom was there with me and we had just decorated my new, big single room. My mom had gotten a blowup mattress to stay with me at night. It was going to be a long night.
As we readied for bed, I started coughing and saw blurriness and black dots in my vision. I did not feel well and had the nurse check my blood pressure. It was in the 150's. I laid down again, but I still could not sleep. The yucky feeling that I had begun to associate with high blood pressure got worse. I finally woke my mom up and called the nurse in again to check me. My blood pressure was 168/107. The nurse called the doctor, who had me take another dose of medicine and we waited about 30 minutes to check it again. It was higher at 174/111. Another dose of medicine and another reading that was up to 180 now. What was happening? The medicine was supposed to make it go down, not up. I took another dose and it was still in the 170's. My head was killing me and I felt terrible. They sent for the anesthesiologist to try and run another IV into my swollen and bruised hands. The doctor ordered another blood pressure medicine through IV because I had maxed out on the other one. Finally my blood pressure had gone down to the 140's and I could sleep. That was almost the worst night of my life.
When I woke up on Monday (Feb. 11) at 8 AM for breakfast, my head was so bad that it hurt to hold it up. The doctor was concerned and ordered a consult with a neurologist. They also ordered morphine for my headache. It did not help much and I hallucinated when I had it. All I wanted was to sleep but people kept coming in to see me about this or that. My vision was blurry and I was sensitive to light. I was severely swollen and my acne was worse than I had ever seen it. I did not want to look in the mirror because I did not even recognize myself.
Later that night, my mother in law came to visit after work. My head still hurt really bad but I had at least had a chance to nap. I began to feel lightheaded and really out of it. I do not remember what they talked about at all. I started to get dark shadowy shapes in my vision and wavy lines in my line of sight. I felt so bad that I could not even speak to say how bad I felt. I had bad pain where my liver was, which had been going on for a while. My vision started to go somewhat dim.
The nurse came in to take my blood pressure and it was in the 160's again. My 2nd 24 hour urine test revealed that my protein level was up to 1.3, whatever that means. The doctor wanted to give me the IV blood pressure medicine again, but they had to monitor Peter's heart rate too. Suddenly, his heart rate began to dip. The nurse said he might have sat on his umbilical cord. It went back up but it went down again. She called the resident in to take a look. His heart rate was going up and down and my blood pressure was still high. They decided to send me to labor & delivery so I could have a nurse with me at all times.
When we got to the room, the resident checked my belly with an ultrasound machine and could not find a heartbeat at all. Before I knew it, the resident, nurses and I were running down the hall like in a movie. I barely got to see my mom and I was crying uncontrollably because there was no heartbeat. I tried to pray, but all I could say was "Hail Mary" over and over.
When we got to the operating room, about 10-15 people gathered around me. They practically ripped my clothes off, started an IV in another spot, and had me lie down on the operating table. People started asking me questions all at once. I could hardly remember my name, let alone what time my last meal was. I was so scared. They hooked me up to a fetal monitor and there was his heartbeat. I nearly passed out and I remember someone slapping my cheek a little. They tied me to the operating table and put my hands out like I was on a cross. My head was hurting so bad and I was barely conscious. What was going on? Things were moving so fast that I could not keep up.
Dr. S was on call and she came in. She told me that we were going to monitor Peter's heart rate for 30 minutes and if it dipped again they would put me under and get him out immediately. Somehow my mom begged and pleaded enough and they let her in. She had to suit up first like the nurses and doctors. When she came in I was completely naked on the table and shaking uncontrollably. She got them to cover me with a warm blanket and she held my hand and told me that Nick and the rest of the grandparents were on their way. 30 minutes went by with no more problems. Dr. S told me that I was so sick that Peter was being affected and that he needed to come out tonight. They would wait until Nick was there and I was stabilized and then do the c-section. They needed to check my platelet count before they decided whether or not I could have an epidural.
Finally everyone arrived after I had gotten back to my room. We were excited that we would see our son that night, but really scared to have him come out so early. I was so sick still that I don't remember much of that time. Nick suited up to come to the delivery with me. The doctor came in to give me an epidural and the nurse did a few other things to ready me for surgery. Then it was time to go.
I was told that the deacon from our church had arrived to baptize Peter right after he was born. When I was in the operating room, Nick held my hand. I was able to be awake for the surgery. There were at least 15 people in there between the surgical staff and the NICU staff. At 10:22 PM, we heard Dr. S say "baby", and then a nurse ran across the room with Peter in her arms. There was no crying, no sound at all. After they had stabilized him, they invited Nick over to see him. He took a picture on his phone so I could see our son. He was so tiny. Then Nick and the NICU staff headed over there. I'm told he was baptized in his tiny incubator as soon as he was stable. It took about 25-30 minutes for them to finish closing me up, but it felt like forever. They put me on a drip of magnesium sulfate to help lower my blood pressure and prevent me from having seizures. The mag caused my nervous system to slow down so I fell asleep every few minutes.
I went back to the labor and delivery room and I remember that my throat and mouth were so dry but they wouldn't let me have a drink. Finally I was able to get some ice chips and I had many cups of those. The rest was a blur. My family told me I fell asleep in mid sentence and I don't remember much of anything. I was completely paralyzed from the ribcage down, due to the epidural. A room was made ready for me where the rest of the new mothers stay. On the way there, they took me, bed and all, into the NICU to meet Peter. I was so out of it that I hardly remember anything. He was so tiny and helpless. He weighed 1lb 4oz and measured 11 1/2 inches, barely larger than my hand. He was on a ventilator and a feeding tube. I'm told he took some donor breast milk that night.
When we got settled in the room, Nick was so tired that he fell asleep right away. I was on and off asleep because of the mag. My parents went down to clear out my other room and take everything to the car. They finally came back to say good night really late. A nurse was monitoring me closely. She gave me some juice to drink and graham crackers to eat. I fell asleep with food in my mouth, and with a drink in my hand. I was very out of it.
When we woke up, we were told that Peter was doing really well. Nick went down to visit him while I rested. My swelling had gotten so bad. My feet looked like balloons and the skin was stretched so much that it hurt. I could not even sit up without help. A lactation consultant came in to teach me about pumping milk for Peter, but I was so groggy from the mag that we had to ask her to come back later. My blood pressure had gone down and I was starting to lose fluid, but I was still a mess. I only got to see Peter once that day, but I got to encircle him with my hand. He started to move like crazy when I talked to him. His body was so perfect, despite the fact that he was so tiny. We were so proud of him for being such a fighter. We rested well that night knowing our son was safe.
I cannot write about that night right now. Maybe I will later, maybe not.
On Saturday, February 2, 2012, I woke up, made breakfast, and then developed a splitting headache. I had had migraines in the past, but this one was pretty bad. I made Nick turn off all the lights, the TV and everything, and went to sleep hoping that would help. When I woke up, it was worse and I was seeing all kinds of weird shapes in my vision (auras). I was sensitive to light and sound, and I felt really nauseous. I stayed in bed all day, and when my in-laws invited us to dinner, I stayed home and told Nick to go without me. My swelling got worse, as did my headache.
I called my mom after he left and she suggested calling the physician line for our OBGYN group since I could not get anything to take away my headache. Maybe they could recommend something. I got a call back from Dr. S and she suggested that I come in to maternity triage at the hospital to get checked out and that maybe they could give me something for my headache. I called Nick and told him to finish dinner and get home. Little did I know that this would be my last time at home for over 2 weeks.
When we arrived at the hospital, my blood pressure was around 164/99. The nurse let me rest for a while and took the blood pressure every 15 minutes. They tested my blood and urine and waited for the results. We waited in a very hot room and I almost passed out. My blood pressure did not go down, and when they got my urine test back the protein was 0.8 (the norm is 0.3 or below). The resident doctor came in and told me that I might have preeclampsia and was being admitted for observation for 24 hours. I had heard of it, but had never bothered to read up about it since it only happens to 5% of pregnant women.
We both called our parents, who started heading to the hospital, and I got a room in the Special Care OB unit. When I got to the room, my blood pressure was 180/110, and the nurse called the resident. They gave me blood pressure medicine through my IV, which had taken 5 painful tries and 2 people to put in because of my severe swelling. I had to collect a 24 hour urine sample and measure my input and output. Our parents left at 3AM and we tried to sleep but so many people came in and out, checking my blood pressure, taking blood for testing, asking what I wanted to eat on the menu, etc.
The next day, my blood pressure was still up, but not as high. I was given an oral medicine to take for that and was put on strict bed rest. The rest of that day was a blur because I did not feel well and several people came to visit me. Nick was able to be with me and stay at night because I did not have a roommate. I was told I would be there until the next day at least.
That Monday, the results of my 24 hour urine test came back still elevated. My head still hurt, and my blood pressure was in the 140's and 150's even with medicine, but the doctor released me that afternoon, saying that I would have to be on bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy. My parents took me home to stay at their house because Nick was working 2 jobs and couldn't take care of me. I slept fitfully and woke up the next morning feeling really bad, but not being able to pinpoint why. I took my blood pressure with my parents' cuff and got a reading of 215/120. I called the doctor's office and they made an appointment for me that morning. We knew I would be going back into the hospital so my mom and I tried to pack some things in a suitcase.
At the hospital (where the OBGYN practice is), I tried to walk up the entrance and started to black out. My mom got me a wheelchair and we got up to the doctor's office. My blood pressure was 165/100, and I was extremely lightheaded. Dr. S was there again and she admitted me again to the hospital. Back to the same room again. My mom was staying with me day and night, and Nick and the rest of our family was visiting when they could.
By the time I saw a doctor next, I was told that I definitely had preeclampsia and that I would be staying at the hospital for the rest of my pregnancy, which they were hoping would be about 36 weeks. I would be on strict bed-rest and would be monitored constantly. I was 23 weeks along, so I was preparing for a long haul. Over 3 months in the hospital was a daunting prospect, but I could not have imagined what was ahead of me.
The rest of the week was a blur, with more tests and up and down days. They gave me a series of steroid shots to help improve Peter's lung growth in case he had to come out early. They also sent in a NICU doctor to give me a terrifying talk about the fact that there was a 20% survival rate at 23 weeks and that if Peter was born before 24 weeks they normally do not resuscitate. We prayed that I could make it to 24 weeks and celebrated when I finally did. Peter was passing all of his tests with flying colors.
On the weekend, my mom took a break and Nick stayed with me the whole time. On Sunday, my headache was worse, but I was OK until that night. My mom was there with me and we had just decorated my new, big single room. My mom had gotten a blowup mattress to stay with me at night. It was going to be a long night.
As we readied for bed, I started coughing and saw blurriness and black dots in my vision. I did not feel well and had the nurse check my blood pressure. It was in the 150's. I laid down again, but I still could not sleep. The yucky feeling that I had begun to associate with high blood pressure got worse. I finally woke my mom up and called the nurse in again to check me. My blood pressure was 168/107. The nurse called the doctor, who had me take another dose of medicine and we waited about 30 minutes to check it again. It was higher at 174/111. Another dose of medicine and another reading that was up to 180 now. What was happening? The medicine was supposed to make it go down, not up. I took another dose and it was still in the 170's. My head was killing me and I felt terrible. They sent for the anesthesiologist to try and run another IV into my swollen and bruised hands. The doctor ordered another blood pressure medicine through IV because I had maxed out on the other one. Finally my blood pressure had gone down to the 140's and I could sleep. That was almost the worst night of my life.
When I woke up on Monday (Feb. 11) at 8 AM for breakfast, my head was so bad that it hurt to hold it up. The doctor was concerned and ordered a consult with a neurologist. They also ordered morphine for my headache. It did not help much and I hallucinated when I had it. All I wanted was to sleep but people kept coming in to see me about this or that. My vision was blurry and I was sensitive to light. I was severely swollen and my acne was worse than I had ever seen it. I did not want to look in the mirror because I did not even recognize myself.
Later that night, my mother in law came to visit after work. My head still hurt really bad but I had at least had a chance to nap. I began to feel lightheaded and really out of it. I do not remember what they talked about at all. I started to get dark shadowy shapes in my vision and wavy lines in my line of sight. I felt so bad that I could not even speak to say how bad I felt. I had bad pain where my liver was, which had been going on for a while. My vision started to go somewhat dim.
The nurse came in to take my blood pressure and it was in the 160's again. My 2nd 24 hour urine test revealed that my protein level was up to 1.3, whatever that means. The doctor wanted to give me the IV blood pressure medicine again, but they had to monitor Peter's heart rate too. Suddenly, his heart rate began to dip. The nurse said he might have sat on his umbilical cord. It went back up but it went down again. She called the resident in to take a look. His heart rate was going up and down and my blood pressure was still high. They decided to send me to labor & delivery so I could have a nurse with me at all times.
When we got to the room, the resident checked my belly with an ultrasound machine and could not find a heartbeat at all. Before I knew it, the resident, nurses and I were running down the hall like in a movie. I barely got to see my mom and I was crying uncontrollably because there was no heartbeat. I tried to pray, but all I could say was "Hail Mary" over and over.
When we got to the operating room, about 10-15 people gathered around me. They practically ripped my clothes off, started an IV in another spot, and had me lie down on the operating table. People started asking me questions all at once. I could hardly remember my name, let alone what time my last meal was. I was so scared. They hooked me up to a fetal monitor and there was his heartbeat. I nearly passed out and I remember someone slapping my cheek a little. They tied me to the operating table and put my hands out like I was on a cross. My head was hurting so bad and I was barely conscious. What was going on? Things were moving so fast that I could not keep up.
Dr. S was on call and she came in. She told me that we were going to monitor Peter's heart rate for 30 minutes and if it dipped again they would put me under and get him out immediately. Somehow my mom begged and pleaded enough and they let her in. She had to suit up first like the nurses and doctors. When she came in I was completely naked on the table and shaking uncontrollably. She got them to cover me with a warm blanket and she held my hand and told me that Nick and the rest of the grandparents were on their way. 30 minutes went by with no more problems. Dr. S told me that I was so sick that Peter was being affected and that he needed to come out tonight. They would wait until Nick was there and I was stabilized and then do the c-section. They needed to check my platelet count before they decided whether or not I could have an epidural.
Finally everyone arrived after I had gotten back to my room. We were excited that we would see our son that night, but really scared to have him come out so early. I was so sick still that I don't remember much of that time. Nick suited up to come to the delivery with me. The doctor came in to give me an epidural and the nurse did a few other things to ready me for surgery. Then it was time to go.
I was told that the deacon from our church had arrived to baptize Peter right after he was born. When I was in the operating room, Nick held my hand. I was able to be awake for the surgery. There were at least 15 people in there between the surgical staff and the NICU staff. At 10:22 PM, we heard Dr. S say "baby", and then a nurse ran across the room with Peter in her arms. There was no crying, no sound at all. After they had stabilized him, they invited Nick over to see him. He took a picture on his phone so I could see our son. He was so tiny. Then Nick and the NICU staff headed over there. I'm told he was baptized in his tiny incubator as soon as he was stable. It took about 25-30 minutes for them to finish closing me up, but it felt like forever. They put me on a drip of magnesium sulfate to help lower my blood pressure and prevent me from having seizures. The mag caused my nervous system to slow down so I fell asleep every few minutes.
I went back to the labor and delivery room and I remember that my throat and mouth were so dry but they wouldn't let me have a drink. Finally I was able to get some ice chips and I had many cups of those. The rest was a blur. My family told me I fell asleep in mid sentence and I don't remember much of anything. I was completely paralyzed from the ribcage down, due to the epidural. A room was made ready for me where the rest of the new mothers stay. On the way there, they took me, bed and all, into the NICU to meet Peter. I was so out of it that I hardly remember anything. He was so tiny and helpless. He weighed 1lb 4oz and measured 11 1/2 inches, barely larger than my hand. He was on a ventilator and a feeding tube. I'm told he took some donor breast milk that night.
When we got settled in the room, Nick was so tired that he fell asleep right away. I was on and off asleep because of the mag. My parents went down to clear out my other room and take everything to the car. They finally came back to say good night really late. A nurse was monitoring me closely. She gave me some juice to drink and graham crackers to eat. I fell asleep with food in my mouth, and with a drink in my hand. I was very out of it.
When we woke up, we were told that Peter was doing really well. Nick went down to visit him while I rested. My swelling had gotten so bad. My feet looked like balloons and the skin was stretched so much that it hurt. I could not even sit up without help. A lactation consultant came in to teach me about pumping milk for Peter, but I was so groggy from the mag that we had to ask her to come back later. My blood pressure had gone down and I was starting to lose fluid, but I was still a mess. I only got to see Peter once that day, but I got to encircle him with my hand. He started to move like crazy when I talked to him. His body was so perfect, despite the fact that he was so tiny. We were so proud of him for being such a fighter. We rested well that night knowing our son was safe.
I cannot write about that night right now. Maybe I will later, maybe not.
My Pregnancy
It's going to take a little while to get this all out, but I want to record every detail of what happened so everyone knows, and so I don't forget.
Nick and I got married last June after about 3 years of dating and being engaged. We took our honeymoon to Rome and the Vatican. When we received the sposi novelli (newlywed) blessing from Pope Benedict XVI at the papal audience, I specifically prayed that God would bless us with a child. As we walked through St. Peter's Square after being in the Basilica, Nick turned to me and asked if we could name our first born son Peter. Without a second's pause, I agreed. We had been told by my doctor that due to some congenital birth defects I have, it might take a while for us to become pregnant. To our surprise and delight, I took a pregnancy test 3 months later which was positive.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was September 29, 2012, and I had been feeling really tired and sore that week. Just on a whim, I took a pregnancy test privately while Nick was preparing to head to work. After a minute or so, both lines came back very clearly. I was pregnant! I ran to show Nick and I could barely speak. All I could do was shove the test in his face and say "Look!". He was elated, but he had to go to work. I immediately called my parents and they came up to celebrate with me. Later that day, we told his parents as well.
I went to the doctor and had it confirmed. I was indeed pregnant! Unfortunately, my progesterone levels were pretty low. Nick began giving me progesterone shots, but around 8-9 weeks, my levels dropped dangerously low. We feared that I was going to miscarry. After all, my mom had had 4 miscarriages; I was the only child that had survived. It was a very scary time, but eventually my levels went back up. I was referred to the high risk obstetrics group at Good Samaritan Hospital since I only had 1 kidney and had had pelvic surgery before.
From the beginning, I remember that I felt very ill. I immediately began retaining fluid and swelling much more than was expected at that point. I was nauseous all the time, although I never got sick. I developed vertigo (inner-ear dizziness) and had to miss a lot of work. I was working for a temp agency at the time as a Spanish-speaking customer service representative, and I feared telling them my news. I struggled to keep silent and give excuses, but eventually I was forced to tell them the news. About 3-4 weeks after that, I was let go for reasons that I do not understand.
Our friends were so excited for us! But then two close friends of ours had their baby, who they new had anencephaly, a congenital birth defect where the brain and skull do not form. It was so hard to be there for them and think of my own little child inside. I remember sitting in the last pew of the funeral at the church, and sobbing uncontrollably while holding on to Nick. I prayed, "Dear God, please don't let this happen to us. I could never handle losing our baby." Fateful words.
I was feeling a bit better and was over the vertigo. We needed the money, so I went back to Macy's where I had worked before. After 2 weeks, I had already had to go to the hospital and get checked out for pelvic pain and my back and feet were so sore that I was forced to quit.
After this, we were able to have our first detailed ultrasound at 16 weeks. I was in love! We did not know the gender yet, but we knew he was perfect in every way. I also began to feel Peter moving at 16 weeks, much earlier than anyone else I knew. Once I began feeling him, I was so excited! It was like the pregnancy became real. Although I was having a lot of back pain due to pinched nerves, I began shopping for baby things and we decided we wanted to find out the gender of our baby.
Around 18 weeks (end of December), I was having so much back pain that they decided to do another ultrasound that is normally reserved for 20 week pregnancies. During this, we found out that we were having a boy! I have never seen Nick so proud! My mom and I began looking for blue baby boy clothes, and Nick and I decided on the name Peter for sure.
The month of January became more and more difficult for me as the pregnancy progressed. I had to spend a lot of time in bed and my swelling really got worse. Eventually my morning sickness came back and I just did not feel right. I had a doctor's visit on January 28 and was given a clean bill of health. After this, I really took a turn for the worse, but none of my symptoms were unusual for pregnancy. I had no idea at the time how sick I really was.
To be continued in the next post...
Nick and I got married last June after about 3 years of dating and being engaged. We took our honeymoon to Rome and the Vatican. When we received the sposi novelli (newlywed) blessing from Pope Benedict XVI at the papal audience, I specifically prayed that God would bless us with a child. As we walked through St. Peter's Square after being in the Basilica, Nick turned to me and asked if we could name our first born son Peter. Without a second's pause, I agreed. We had been told by my doctor that due to some congenital birth defects I have, it might take a while for us to become pregnant. To our surprise and delight, I took a pregnancy test 3 months later which was positive.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was September 29, 2012, and I had been feeling really tired and sore that week. Just on a whim, I took a pregnancy test privately while Nick was preparing to head to work. After a minute or so, both lines came back very clearly. I was pregnant! I ran to show Nick and I could barely speak. All I could do was shove the test in his face and say "Look!". He was elated, but he had to go to work. I immediately called my parents and they came up to celebrate with me. Later that day, we told his parents as well.
I went to the doctor and had it confirmed. I was indeed pregnant! Unfortunately, my progesterone levels were pretty low. Nick began giving me progesterone shots, but around 8-9 weeks, my levels dropped dangerously low. We feared that I was going to miscarry. After all, my mom had had 4 miscarriages; I was the only child that had survived. It was a very scary time, but eventually my levels went back up. I was referred to the high risk obstetrics group at Good Samaritan Hospital since I only had 1 kidney and had had pelvic surgery before.
From the beginning, I remember that I felt very ill. I immediately began retaining fluid and swelling much more than was expected at that point. I was nauseous all the time, although I never got sick. I developed vertigo (inner-ear dizziness) and had to miss a lot of work. I was working for a temp agency at the time as a Spanish-speaking customer service representative, and I feared telling them my news. I struggled to keep silent and give excuses, but eventually I was forced to tell them the news. About 3-4 weeks after that, I was let go for reasons that I do not understand.
Our friends were so excited for us! But then two close friends of ours had their baby, who they new had anencephaly, a congenital birth defect where the brain and skull do not form. It was so hard to be there for them and think of my own little child inside. I remember sitting in the last pew of the funeral at the church, and sobbing uncontrollably while holding on to Nick. I prayed, "Dear God, please don't let this happen to us. I could never handle losing our baby." Fateful words.
I was feeling a bit better and was over the vertigo. We needed the money, so I went back to Macy's where I had worked before. After 2 weeks, I had already had to go to the hospital and get checked out for pelvic pain and my back and feet were so sore that I was forced to quit.
After this, we were able to have our first detailed ultrasound at 16 weeks. I was in love! We did not know the gender yet, but we knew he was perfect in every way. I also began to feel Peter moving at 16 weeks, much earlier than anyone else I knew. Once I began feeling him, I was so excited! It was like the pregnancy became real. Although I was having a lot of back pain due to pinched nerves, I began shopping for baby things and we decided we wanted to find out the gender of our baby.
Around 18 weeks (end of December), I was having so much back pain that they decided to do another ultrasound that is normally reserved for 20 week pregnancies. During this, we found out that we were having a boy! I have never seen Nick so proud! My mom and I began looking for blue baby boy clothes, and Nick and I decided on the name Peter for sure.
The month of January became more and more difficult for me as the pregnancy progressed. I had to spend a lot of time in bed and my swelling really got worse. Eventually my morning sickness came back and I just did not feel right. I had a doctor's visit on January 28 and was given a clean bill of health. After this, I really took a turn for the worse, but none of my symptoms were unusual for pregnancy. I had no idea at the time how sick I really was.
To be continued in the next post...
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