Pretty Good Day

The doctor checked for a heart beat today and it turns out the baby is still alive. His heart beat was at 150 per minute, which is about where it usually is. We were so relieved because he hadn't been kicking as much over the last couple days. The doctor said babies have quiet days just like adults and sometimes they nap, so not to worry. She did say the placenta wasn't looking looking good at all though.

I am so happy to know we've made it past two weeks after all the grim predictions. We are going back to the specialist at the university next week to see if there has been any growth at all. I've been eating a ton, but don't know if it's making much difference. The doctor said there was a slight increase in my measurements today, but I don't think I'm big enough.

The doctor gave me the green light to do some walking again. She said there is no evidence that bed rest really makes a difference and she thinks more activity would be good for my mental health. That was cool, so I got out for awhile today. Later tonight a few friends called and I had a lot of fun talking on the phone and getting my mind off all the heavy stuff going on for awhile. Friends, family, and some of the humorous shows we watch on TV are all helping me to deal.

Made it Two Weeks

Two weeks have passed since that doctor I don't like at our regular clinic said our baby would probably not live two weeks. I still feel movements. I really am dreading going back to see that woman for a heart check tomorrow, but might as well just let her do her job and make sure the kid really is still alive. If he makes it a little bit longer, we will go back to the specialist at the university next week for yet another ultrasound.

The bed rest was making me pretty crazy this morning. I felt like I wanted to start breaking things or maybe kill someone, so I talked Hubby into walking down to this nearby comic book store that we like. The people that work there are all really smart and funny and it was so great to be out doing something "normal" for awhile. We talked and laughed about mundane stuff and enjoyed thumbing through various comics and graphic novels. After I felt I'd had enough (ie. felt bleeding start again), I told Hubby we had to go and we took public transit home. I told him not to worry because I could not sanely deal with another full day on bed rest and even if something bad happened I wouldn't blame myself. The prognosis is already so bleak and the doctor actually told me to resume "normal" activities after that last visit. The only reason I rest is to keep the bleeding to a minimum, but sometimes it barely seems to make a difference.

Early in my pregnancy, a midwife told me that if a pregnancy was unhealthy, my body would miscarry even if I laid in bed all day. She also said that if the pregnancy was healthy and meant to be, it would stick, even if I ran marathons and carried toddlers around all day. In other words, nature plays a big part in how these things turn out. I realize my situation is unusual with the subchorionic bleed and the baby's growth problems, but doctors have passed the point of prescribing major interventions. As I said before, everything is one day at a time and just waiting and waiting until something happens for better or worse.

Another Rough Day at 29 Weeks

I woke up at 5 a.m. with what seemed to be Braxton Hicks contractions. They were tolerable but there was enough pain to wake me up. I sat up on the couch for a few hours and got to see the sun rise before falling asleep again. When I woke up later, I noticed that I was bleeding again and I had a big meltdown. Thank God Hubby was here to listen and hold me.

It seems like I am filled with a wide range of emotions right now. Naturally, with my grim diagnosis there is worry about the baby's welfare and whether he is still alive. There is also a feeling of grief about missing on all the good parts of being pregnant. I mean, yes, I've been able to hear my baby's heart beat, feel his kicks, and see his beautiful profile on ultrasound. His little feet are the cutest things ever! But I haven't really been able to celebrate or bond with other parents-to-be in the way I wanted to. I didn't really want a baby shower (even before all the bad news rolled in), but I did want to go to birthing and parenting classes and keep enjoying my prenatal yoga. I wanted to shop for the baby and do all the nesting stuff, but it's all been halted due to the tentative nature of this whole experience. I had a good long cry about all of that today.

The other feeling I am dealing with is fear about childbirth. The cramping and bleeding have me worried and I hope my experience in the hospital isn't going to be as scary as I think it will be. The doctors all seem focused on the baby's diagnosis and the fact that he probably won't survive. What they aren't noticing is me, the mother, who has no experience with this. Whether or not our boy is alive and breathing or a stillborn, there is no changing the fact that I will have to give birth to him. I don't know anything about it or what to expect. My husband will be there to hold my hand, but he is new to this too.

I wish the doctor at our regular clinic was empathic, more human, and able to provide some comfort. As I said in my last post, she has the demeanor of a crocodile. It also bothers me that the doctors and staff at the clinic don't seem to have all of our records from the university, so half the time I have to explain everything or they just make assumptions based on limited information.

Anyway, it was kind of a crappy day overall. The only good parts were my husband's hugs and a long phone call I shared with an old friend of mine from school. We talked for hours and she made me laugh. I also took a short walk, even though I probably shouldn't have. I just couldn't deal with another full day of bed rest and I'm not even sure how much good all the resting is doing anyway. I know it slows down the bleeding sometimes, but that's about it. It is possible that it helps the baby grow, but I was still doing all my normal activities during that time that he had the big growth spurt in November.

The Longest Month Ever

I am on partial bed rest, the weather is dark and gloomy, and it feels like this month will never end. I had my husband drive me to a nearby park today, so I could look out at the gray twilight and breath fresh air for awhile. As I reflected back on all the events that led up to this time, I could see how it's been one huge roller coaster of grief and hope. I started thinking I should write some of it down while I am in the middle of what feels like an endless waiting game.

The trouble started with my 20 week ultrasound in early November. The midwives at the clinic we usually go to referred me to specialists at the university because my placenta was thick, the umbilical cord had only one vein and one artery (instead of the more typical two arteries), and the baby was small for gestational age. I was told that the findings by themselves would not be of concern, but all three together could be a red flag for something serious.

I was dreading the trip to the university, but it actually wasn't too bad. We met with a genetic counselor, had another ultrasound, and saw a specialist in maternal and fetal medicine. Everyone there was very helpful and informative and I liked our doctor. I was told that a subchorionic hemorrhage, which had been spotted on ultrasound early in the pregnancy, had not resolved and it was likely causing problems with the placenta and impeding the baby's growth. She said the best she could do is keep an eye on him and see if things worsened or improved. Although the doctor was pretty sure the bleed was the issue, she said she couldn't rule out a chromosomal problem without an amniocentesis. I declined because I was worried about risk of miscarriage. I also knew that, unless my life was in danger, I would not abort the baby.

My husband and I went home filled with uncertainties and heavy hearts, but we tried to keep some hope alive. I was immersed in school and my two jobs and the weeks before the next ultrasound seemed to go by fast. During that time, we had a fetal echocardiogram and a team of experts confirmed that the baby's heart was structurally sound and functioning normally. When we returned to the prenatal specialist, she was very happy about this news and pleased to tell us that he'd also had a big growth spurt. She took the results of his latest ultrasound to a conference and a group of neonatal specialists concurred that things looked promising. I spite of all this, the doctor said the bleed behind the placenta had grown to 8 cm and she wanted to me to go home and be on bed rest before the next appointment on January 5th. She also told me to pack a suitcase because I would most likely be checked into the hospital for more bed rest and a possible c-section.

I was very concerned about the bleed and did try to take it easy, although bed rest seemed impossible for me over the holidays. We did postpone a planned family vacation to Utah, but I still had to finish my quarter at school. There was also lots of Christmas decorating, cooking, shopping, and wrapping to do. I did put my feet up as much as I could, but I know I probably did too much. Looking back it is hard to know whether it really would have made a difference anyway.

I had my hospital bag packed when January 5th rolled around and hubby and I returned to the university for another ultrasound. We were in shock when we heard the results. The doctor said the baby had not grown at all and there was no way he would survive a c-section at that point. She also said blood flow through the umbilical cord was abnormal (reverse flow) and that I shouldn't be surprised if I had a stillbirth within the next couple of weeks. My husband and I were beside ourselves with grief at this news. The doctor was very empathic and said it was okay to hold onto hope if we wanted to. She said the odds were against us, but sometimes a miracle can occur. Meanwhile, she wanted me to start having weekly checkups with OBs at our regular clinic and to report back for another ultrasound toward the end of the month.

The next day, we returned to our usual clinic and met with one of the obstetricians there. We were assigned the worst doctor possible for the state of mind we were in. She was an older lady, who might have been a good doctor in her day, but who was now obviously overloaded with case files and burned out. She was cold and blunt, telling us how foolish a c-section would be for a child this small and how there is obviously something wrong with him. She said he would never have a "normal" life. My husband was losing it in a nearby chair as I stared into the eyes of this crocodile of a person and asked how long our son had to live. She said he would probably be dead within two weeks. I thanked her for this information and allowed her to check his heart, which was beating strongly and beautifully as ever. The witch then measured my belly and took off to tend to the rest of the cattle. As soon as she left the office, I grabbed onto my husband and cried and cried.

After that horrible appointment, we went home and waited. Every time the baby stop moving for awhile, I would worry and obsess. The doctor at the university had told me that I wouldn't necessarily know if he was dead because my body would not automatically go into labor. She said that if he died I would need an induction at the hospital or he might just remain in there for weeks. I knew I was scheduled to go in for another heart check with that witch of a doctor in a couple weeks, but I doubted my ability to wait that long. The time just dragged and just when things didn't seem like they could get any worse, they did.

I woke up at five in the morning this past Wednesday and discovered I was bleeding bright red blood. I laid down to rest, which seemed to help, but when I stood up later on more blood gushed out. I e-mailed the specialist at the university and she told me to go to our usual clinic for an assessment. I found out that if I was going into labor this early (28 weeks) they would transfer me over to the university anyway.

I was thankful that the nurses and on-call doctor at our usual clinic that day were very human and they treated me great. They hooked me up to monitors and Hubby and I got to listen to our son's heart beat for a couple of hours. I was told that everything sounded normal and the baby was not under distress, although there was obviously some uterine activity happening. I was told that I am having Braxton Hicks contractions which are considered normal at this point in my pregnancy. The on-call doctor checked my cervix and said it was still closed. She said that most likely the bleeding was from the subchorionic hemorrhage behind the placenta.

I really appreciated talking to the on-call doctor that day because she seemed genuinely concerned about my case. She suggested I schedule regular half-hour appointments due to the high risk nature of my pregnancy. She also asked me what I would want if labor did start. Because the baby is still too small to survive a vaginal birth, she wanted to know if I would ask for a c-section. She explained that doctors prefer to do a low cut procedure (near the bikini line) in most cases, but my baby and my uterus are too small for that right now. Instead, I would have to have a more high risk vertical cut that would go through my stomach muscles. She said there would be the risk of bleeding to death, possible future impairment of bowel function, and even a chance that I could jeopardize hope of a future pregnancy. As disconcerting as this news was, I appreciated knowing it. I was able to ask myself whether I would want to take such scary risks with my body with the knowledge that this baby might not live very long or have quality of life. I decided (and my husband agreed) that the only way I would go through with the c-section is if the baby and my uterus grew enough that I could have the safer low cut procedure done.

I went home that night and continued to bleed on and off until the next day. I did have some painful cramps during the night, but they felt like irritation from the subchorionic bleed. By the next night the flow had changed to spotting that appeared to be old blood. Since then, I have been spotting on and off depending on how much activity I am doing. I find that resting seems to either slow it down or stop it.

So, as I said at the start of this post, I am in the middle of a waiting game. I have no way of knowing if this baby will have another growth spurt or not. If he survives another couple weeks, we will have another ultrasound and see. Meanwhile, I keep hoping the on-call doctor I spoke to was right and the spotting is just the clot behind the placenta shedding off. I can't help but worry about the possibility of preterm labor. Every day that I continue to feel the baby move, I am thankful. I know odds are against him in terms of survival with that reverse flow through the umbilical cord, but he is still kicking and we did hear his strong little heart beating earlier this week. My husband and his family are praying and fasting today, asking that our boy will grow like a weed. My dad, his wife, and of course my husband and I are praying too. There are so many people in dire need in this world right now, so I feel selfish asking for help from God. But that is where we are. My step-mom told me tonight that I should turn it over to God and realize there is little more we can do.

Post Holiday Monday

It's been a dark and misty day. I took a short walk in the rain to stave off a grumpy mood and did some brainstorming for a story I'm working on. My doctor said I have to take it easy. No more hikes, gym, or prenatal yoga classes. I have another appointment tomorrow and we'll see if I wind up on full bed rest in the hospital. I really hope not because there are still some things I'd like to get done at home. For one thing, we need to make room for the baby and his clothes, diapers, and other essentials. I know the kiddo will be sleeping in our bedroom, but we still need some storage space. Even a big shelf in our room would help. Otherwise we'll end up being one of those families who has constant clutter strewn about and nowhere to sit. No thanks!

Anyway, I hope the doc will just tell me to go home and keep chilling out. Maybe she'll even let me do a few projects as long as I don't lift anything heavy. I hope to set up my aquarium. That's a nice, low impact hobby and I have almost all the supplies now, except for the fish.

The holidays were pretty relaxed compared to some years. We postponed our travel plans, so I could take it easy. I admit I probably did too much at times with all the shopping, wrapping, and baking. We decorated for Christmas, cooked a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, and made a bunch of Christmas cookies. We also went to church and enjoyed a peaceful candle light service. Then, on New Year's Eve we went out for Mexican food and headed back to the abode to avoid the inevitable loud drunkenness out on the streets. There were beautiful fire works at midnight that we watched through our window. I was impressed by the mix of colors this year. Lots of blues, purples, red, green, pink, and a vibrant champagne shade. All together, it was a good night, accept when a party continued for several hours, sending clunking feet up and down the staircase near our bedroom until sunrise.