Pregnancy, Part 3

*I want to post a TRIGGER WARNING that this post, and the subsequent parts will detail infertility issues, death, preterm birth, hospital/medical bias, and other subjects that might be triggering for some. There will also be pictures of premature infants which (from personal experience) can be triggering. I will post this at the beginning of each part. *

Taken on the day I went to the hospital

My visit to my midwife was on a Friday. Two days later, on Sunday, before disaster struck I was in so much discomfort. I don't want to call it pain because I've had much worse pain in my life. I called my mom, and expressed frustration with my situation, and how the midwife was handling it. My mom told me to put myself on bed rest. I did that for about 24 hours, but we needed to go grocery shopping. Our shopping trips take around 2 hours because we price check, coupon, and tally as we shop. I knew this was going to be a long trip, especially considering we hadn't bought groceries in a month.

When we got to the store I decided I was going to use the electric wheelchairs to take as much pressure off my pelvis as I could. Of course when we got there I could only find one wheelchair, and it was not charged. I decided to bite the bullet, and just get it done. By the time we got back in the car, my hips and back were screaming. I was in so much pain. Actual pain now no longer discomfort. I immediately went to bed, and had my partner unload and put the groceries away.

The next day (11/10/15) I woke up feeling a modicum of relief. I knew I needed to babysit, but it was around the time the child usually napped, so I could continue my bed rest on the couch. Everything was fine at that time. I had a counseling session to head to so I went immediately there. While I was waiting I started to just feel bad. There is not really any one symptom I can pinpoint. Something just felt wrong. I let my counselor know I was going to have to miss this session as I was going to the hospital. She chastised me for even coming in instead of going straight to the hospital.

I got in the car, and headed home. I called my midwife first, then my partner on the way, and let him know we needed to immediately head to the hospital. I explained to him that most likely we would not be having the home birth we prepared for. He asked me why I felt that way. I explained it was a feeling I had. Something wasn't right, and I was sure we were going to have an extended hospital stay. I text my triplet mom friend, and she gave me positive words of encouragement, and asked for an update when I had a chance.

The hospital I went to has a protocol where when you go to L&D the security guard has to tag you, and push a button to allow elevator access. When I got to the front desk I was almost doubled over with the earlier discomfort that had now become pain. I leaned against the desk, and explained I needed to be seen. "Who told you to come here," he asked. I explained my midwife sent me. "Who is your midwife?" Disgruntled I explained that my midwife was not a part of the hospital staff. He looked from the top of my face to my (nonexistent) belly and said, "I'm going to have to call them to see if it's ok to let you go back." By this point I didn't care. I was in too much pain to argue. Because I had been seen at 20w I was in the system, and they let me up. I'm sure the security guard did not think I was pregnant. Can't really blame him too much since it is his job to vet everyone who comes in. At 27w exactly I barely was showing a bump. I'm sure I looked suspicious.

As I walked with my partner down the long corridor to the elevator I lamented that at least he could have offered me a wheelchair when it was obvious how much pain I was in. I know my partner was trying to put on a brave face, but he was clearly upset too. When we got inside the elevator he pushed the button for L&D, and nothing happened. Puzzled he pressed the button several more times. By now we are both upset. He leaves the elevator. Not wanting to leave me alone he yells down the corridor that the elevator isn't working. There is a camera pointed at the elevator. I'm not sure what distracted the guard, but that pretty much set the tone for how the rest of my stay would go.

Finally we reached the floor. My partner went back down with the elevator to properly park the car as we were double parked. I was shown to a room by a nurse. She asked me to leave a urine sample in the bathroom, then get undressed, and get in bed. Now remember I said I had joined a birth group to talk to other birthing people? Because of this I was well aware of all the gross things that your body goes through while pregnant. When I wiped after leaving my sample I lost my mucus plug. Disgusted I flushed it, got undressed, and climbed in bed. This was quite possibly the most uncomfortable bed in the history of beds. I later found out it was a birthing bed that could drop away to allow the doctor access during delivery.

A different nurse comes in, and she was an older Asian woman. My spirits lifted a little. I was happy to see another person of color. Back then I was naïve to social justice, and lateral biases. The nurse was so nice to me. She explained the different monitors she was putting on me. I told her I had lost my mucus plug. She asked me if I had saved it. Puzzled I said that I flushed it, but there was no mistaking what it was. She continued on friendly as before. Everything changed when my partner walked in the room. Part of me wanted to believe I was imagining things, but my partner later expressed similar impressions. All the niceties went out the door. Her voice was no longer cheerful, but seemed annoyed. I brushed it off as maybe me projecting my anxiety on to her. I'll never truly know as I never saw her again.

When the doctor came in the room she washed her hands, and introduced herself. She was a Latina doctor, and I was again excited to be seen by another person of color. She listened to the report the nurse gave her on my status. The doctor looks at me when the nurse was complete and says, "You are not having contractions. It sounds to me like you're experiencing round ligament pain. It would be best for you to get a belly binder when you go home." Cue internal screaming "IT'S NOT ROUND LIGAMENT PAIN I DON'T HAVE A HUGE BELLY TO PUT ANY PRESSURE ON MY LIGAMENTS!" Outwardly I just grimaced, and waited for the doctor to continue, "I am concerned that you lost your mucus plug already. I'm going to go ahead and give you a check if you don't mind." I gave the doctor permission to check.

I have never had a pelvic exam while pregnant. Sure I've had pap smears, and the such, but when you're pregnant every thing is heightened. That was quite possibly worse than the pain that brought me there. When she was finished checking me she removed her gloves and said, "Well you are 100% effaced, and three centimeters dilated. Seems you're not going home after all." She began washing her hands while I looked at my partner because I was right this whole time, and should have gone with my gut. While drying her hands, and exiting the room, as the door was closing she said, "By the way we are going to drug test your urine because that's usually the cause of preterm labor." My mouth fell open. "Ok....?" I replied.

Stay tuned for the next part! Catch up on previous parts here: 1 2

Pregnancy, Part 2

*I want to post a TRIGGER WARNING that this post, and the subsequent parts will detail infertility issues, death, preterm birth, hospital/medical bias, and other subjects that might be triggering for some. There will also be pictures of premature infants which (from personal experience) can be triggering. I will post this at the beginning of each part. *

Before I ever tried to conceive I had done research on different birthing techniques, and providers. I had toured (online) birth centers, and had an idea of what center I wanted to go to. I discussed with my partner that I would most likely not go the "usual" route of doctors and hospitals because pregnancy is not an illness. My partner had already discussed a mistrust of Western medicine, and decided to defer to me (within reason) when it came to any and all medical decisions.

I had an idea of the local midwife I wanted to go with. I called her office to schedule the new patient walk through to see if my partner was also comfortable with her. She had a great reputation, and offered home birth. We were on the fence about home birth because we lived in an apartment complex at the time, but she set our fears to rest. I really liked that the office wasn't set up like a traditional doctor's office. Every thing was explained ahead of time, and any questions we had were answered. Because of my irregular cycles my midwife opted for a dating ultrasound.

When I went in for the ultrasound I was 10 weeks based off my last menstrual period (LMP). The ultrasound put the baby at 7w3d. I was a little concerned that the ultrasound was not accurate, but I had no knowledge of ultrasounds or how to read them so I had to believe what I was told. Because of this my midwife visit was pushed back as she did not see clients before 10 weeks.

So as I waited another 2+ weeks for my first official check up I tried to find all the information I could on what to expect. My only experience with pregnancy had been my mother who had horrible hyperemesis gravidarium (HG) where she couldn't keep down anything other than cactus water, had premature rupture of membranes (PROM), and a stillbirth at 28-29 weeks, and a best friend who had triplets at 25w3d. Suffice to say pregnancy after the second trimester was a mystery to me. Because I have a scientific mind I wanted to know what the developing baby looked like. I came across a website called "stillbirth day" that showed pictures of babies that did not survive based on gestational age. Probably not the wisest thing to do, but it oddly gave me a sense of peace knowing that if worst came to worst my baby would still be celebrated.

Around 17w I had a migraine for about three days. I am prone to them, but they had never lasted that long. I decided to forgo seeing my midwife, and just go to the ER. At the ER they told me that based on my LMP I was 20 weeks, and that I needed to go to labor and delivery (L&D) as they were not allowed to help me. At L&D I was given an ultrasound where they said I was indeed 20w pregnant, and that other than fluids there was nothing they could do about my migraine. Looking back I'm glad I established my pregnancy there as it would come in handy later.

Fast track to 25 weeks. I had met with the midwife. My partner liked her. We did parenting classes with her. We learned about home birth, and decided we would give it a try as her birth center was not completely finished yet, although it might possibly be by my estimated due date (EDD) of 2/9/2015. In the birthing classes they discussed hypnobirthing, which I had already researched and decided I would do, and breastfeeding. As much research as I had done on pregnancy I was completely ignorant about breastfeeding. You would assume with my scientific brain I would do more research on that as well. I chose not to. I knew my midwife had staff that would help if I needed it, and left it at that. I did research into hypnobirthing, and decided to go with the Mongan method because it fit better within our budget. After having done the Hypnobabies vs hypnobirthing method I would highly recommend paying the extra for Hypnobabies.

I had a perfect pregnancy up to the second trimester, outside of that one migraine incident. I had no morning sickness. No evidence of preeclampsia, and my gestational diabetes test was perfect. I gained no weight, but my uterus was in position, and baby was growing accordingly. We had no desire to know the gender of the baby, but our friends wanted to know. I had an ultrasound at a 3D place, because I wanted to throw a reverse gender surprise party for my friends. Two of my friends were there to get the gender and photos with the plan to throw a party later. Everyone who was invited would know the gender beforehand so they could plan accordingly. Right around this time I started having issues with morning sickness. My midwife tried to assure me it wasn't "a thing", but my inability to keep anything down, and 5 lb total weight gain thus far said otherwise. I was disgruntled with her response, and felt my concerns were no longer being addressed. I complained to my partner, but tried to stay chill because I wanted a "peaceful pregnancy".

Right around 26 weeks I started having some pain in my abdomen. It was hard to describe. It was like a sharp pulling, that was a continuous ache. It coincided with pain in my vagina. It felt like the baby was trying to kick their way out. I expressed this concern with my midwife. I asked her to check me for a UTI because I had them chronically in the past. My urine test came back negative. My midwife told me it sounded like round ligament pain, get a belly binder, and call her back if I experienced cramping or any bleeding.

Looking back I'm sure she believed I had first pregnancy jitters. In medicine there is a symptom called "feeling of impeding doom". That is the only description that fits how I was feeling at that time.

Did you miss part 1? Check it out here. Stay tuned for more.

Pregnancy, Part 1

My first pregnancy is probably the best starting place for this blog. It was the beginning of this life of organized chaos, and brings me to the point I'm at now. Before I start I just want to post a TRIGGER WARNING that this post, and the subsequent parts will detail infertility issues, death, preterm birth, hospital/medical bias, and other subjects that might be triggering for some. There will also be pictures of premature infants which (from personal experience) can be triggering.

All my life I knew I wanted to have a baby. I remember reading books on birth, including pictures, when I was 7, being so fascinated by the images of babies and the entire birthing process. When I became a nurse I wanted to work in Labor and Delivery because I was so sure it was my calling (turns out I loved memory care more). When I met my partner one of the first conversations we had was on children. How many we wanted, discipline and parenting styles, and everything in between. I already knew I would have issues conceiving, and might not carry to term. My mother had similar issues. I made sure to let him know these things right away, and let him know having kids might not be an easy journey. I had PCOS, regularly irregular cycles, and did not ovulate on my own.

My doctor prescribed me Clomid to try to get me to ovulate. The prescription I had had been expired for 4 years, but I figured the worst that could happen was it not working. I joined a birth group on Babycenter because I wanted to talk to other people who were also having fertility issues. I had no idea how intense some of those people could be, but also how supportive they would later become.

Fast forward to my first cycle with the Clomid. This was going to be a one and done option because I was not established with an OB at the time. I knew I wanted to give birth with a midwife so finding an OB was not on my radar. After the dreaded two week wait I took a test. It was negative. Super negative. Stark white. I squinted, hoped, prayed that maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me, and I would be able to see that super faint pink line. Alas, it was not. My support group friends boosted me up. They told me I could try again. Test later maybe I was testing too soon. Around the time I should be expecting another cycle tragedy struck. My little brother was killed by a forced drug overdose. I tested one more time just to be sure that I was not pregnant. Still negative. I knew my cycle should be starting soon so I packed up my period supplies, and my partner and I flew to Texas.

When we returned home we talked about what our next options would be. We decided that I would get established with an OB and try another cycle of Clomid. I told him that most likely we would not be able to try again for at least another 6 months because that seemed to be the norm before doctors would prescribe any medications to new patients. He was ok with that.

I put on a brave face, but I was disgruntled. What's the point of having a period if I can't get pregnant? I was so miffed. I decided to turn that pain and anger into determination. I downloaded a new period tracker program, and input the cycles I had previously had. Because my cycle was now about 3 weeks late the tracker kept flashing that I needed to test. Annoyed, I peed on the stick, shoved it in my linen closet so I wouldn't have to see it, and hopped in the shower.

When I got out the shower I took my sweet time drying off. I just knew this test was going to be negative, and was not ready for that disappointment. I opened the door, pulled out the test, and BIG FAT POSITIVE! It was so positive it was pulling some of the pink from the control line. I'm sad to say I was too excited to plan any kind of surprise announcement for my partner. I walked into the kitchen stark naked, shoved the test in his face, and said, "LOOK!" He gave me a clueless look. "What's that supposed to mean?" "THAT means we are having a baby," I exclaimed. My partner, ever the steadfast one said, "Ok, so now what?" I said, "Now we wait. The hard part is over."

Famous last words friends.