I've been slacking on my posts, because, truthfully, this pregnancy is hard to keep up with now. I had to look to see what week I was in in order to write the title. I'm not sure exactly how many appointments I've had since the last time I posted something, but I know I've had two non-stress tests (NSTs) and an ultrasound.
At this point, I'm supposed to be having two NSTs a week, but because of the holiday, I've had one each of the last two weeks. Next week, I'll begin with two. The first one I had, we went to the appointment in West Chester, which is about 15-20 minutes from where we live; it took us 30 to get there. My mom came with me, because Ben couldn't get off of work. They told me there, which I was not told before, that if something is wrong they will have to send me to the nearest hospital, which is NOT the one I plan on delivering at and does not have my medical team. So, now that I know this, I'll have to change all the other appointments I made there. I chose this location because it's much closer to our house than the hospital, but I don't want to risk delivery at that hospital. I don't want to risk my team not being there if something goes wrong.
In any case, we passed the NST with flying colors. Before the nurse even left the room after explaining everything, she told us she could tell we passed. But, I guess she had to let the test run its course. I was in a super comfy recliner with two monitors hooked to my belly; one measuring baby's heart rate and one measuring baby's movement. Baby did not like those monitors. Kicked up a storm the whole time. Which only proved that everything was going as it should. Thank goodness.
From there, I went directly to my ultrasound down the hall. They let me stay in the comfy chair instead of making me go back to the waiting room. Hooray for small victories. Everything went smoothly there, too. Baby was measuring at 4 lb., 11 oz., which is apparently the 76th percentile. This means that if the baby gains 1/2 lb. a week (which they are supposed to) from now until the end of the pregnancy, they will weigh 8+ lbs. Heaven help me! I hate to hope for a preemie, but...
In any case, I went in to work after that. My next NST was this past Tuesday. This one was done at the office where I get my regular OB appointments done, so it was combined with my regular checkup, which is now every two weeks instead of every four. *sigh* It was with a different doctor than I usually see, because he wasn't available. This one was the doctor I saw when I went in for decreased movement several weeks ago. The same one that blew me off during my last pregnancy. Now, whereas last time I loved him and thought he was very nice, this time I felt completely blown off again and not taken seriously at all. But, I guess to be fair, the entire ordeal was a nightmare up to that point.
It took me nearly an hour and a half to get there from work. I was a minute or two late, which isn't a big deal, but usually I'm made to wait. Even if I'm ten minutes late for an appointment, I still usually wait 20-30 minutes to be seen. That was not the case this time. I went to check in and the receptionist told me that I had a balance of $352. WHAT?! I asked her what that was for. She printed me out a running total. This is the same damn money that was paid to the hospital a month or two ago by my mother, who generously paid off all of my ultrasound bills. Literally, the exact same tracker sheet. Why on Earth are they trying to charge me for this shit again? So, I was already flustered from the drive and from getting there a little bit late. Then, I was thrown that loop, which just made me angry on top of my anxiety.
I immediately went to do my sample, and literally as I'm walking out of the bathroom with the cup, the nurse says "Kim? We're ready for you now." I hadn't even put the cup down yet. Hadn't sat down yet. Hadn't greeted Ben yet, who was waiting in the waiting room before I even got there. I went out and got him and we were taken back to an exam room. They took my weight (165...yikes!) and then brought me back to the exam room. Oh, this nurse...I had this same nurse several appointments ago and it was obvious she was new. I was convinced it had to be her first day that time. She barely knew how to put on a blood pressure cuff, and kept getting everything tangled. So, I had her again this time. And again, I could tell she was new. She dropped the mouse from her laptop on the way to the exam room and the batteries went flying in the opposite direction. Then, I could tell that she wasn't at all confident on how to put the monitors on for the NST. She asked me where they usually found the heartbeat, but then adjusted and readjusted numerous times. She kept checking on it, unsurely, to make sure it was secure. It made me nervous and put me more on edge. She then took my blood pressure, which has been one of the most important things to monitor during this pregnancy. She let me keep my sleeve rolled down, and, while I know this is generally acceptable, I don't like it. I don't think it's as accurate as a bare arm, and I was certain my blood pressure would be high after the last hour I'd just had. But, no, it was perfect...of course. Because the only time in my entire life that my blood pressure wasn't perfect was when I lost my baby and it was too late.
I thought this appointment was going to work like the last one. After the NST, I'd see the doctor for my regular checkup. But no. He came in DURING the test. This time, as I mentioned, I didn't like him as much as the last time. I asked him when he came if he could take my blood pressure again, because I wasn't comfortable with the reading. He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "why, don't you believe it?" I said I was really anxious and on-edge and the number seemed on the lower side for me as it was. He read off the numbers from the last several appointments and told me it was right in line with what it usually is. I just said "okay," because I just wasn't in the mood. He confirmed that everything looked fine on the test. He asked if I had any questions. I told him I'd been feeling more nervous as we got closer to the end of the pregnancy and he said "right, because of everything that happened before" and then more or less told me there's nothing we can do about that. I told him I didn't feel like I'd been peeing as much as I should have been, which I know was a sign of pre-eclampsia. He said by that point, it's already too late, and I told him that was one of the signs I had last time and by that time I didn't even know I had it yet. He confirmed again that everything was fine. He said, "you're not there." Fine. I don't know. Maybe my hormones and my nerves were just on overdrive, but I felt brushed off again, and honestly at that point, just wanted to go home and cry.
The days leading up to that appointment, I'd started to get an awful nagging feeling, much like I had last time. From almost day one of my first pregnancy, I just felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Like something was going to happen. I would be driving to or from work and I'd have visions of a horrific car accident where I was either seriously injured or killed, and the baby was gone too. And last pregnancy, I did actually get in a (minor) car accident, so that seemed so odd to me. The baby and I were both fine after that, but I still ended up losing her weeks later. Driving to that appointment that day, I started having those same visions. Just of something absolutely awful happening. And I kept thinking "I couldn't deal with it if I made it this far this time and something happened again." But, thankfully, all is good. I don't know why I was so on edge on that particular day.
Now, since then, I've been oddly triggered. Naturally, I still think about the baby we lost all the time. Every day. In fact, Ben bought me a necklace for my birthday with her birthstone in it and it's the first thing I put on every morning. But, lately I've been triggered by the rest of the events of that day and the days after. Not necessarily by the loss itself, but by being in the hospital. I've been having flashbacks to seeing Ben's face when we heard the words "I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat." I can vividly remember him sleeping in L&D while I was being pumped full of drugs and stabilized. I remember seeing how scared he was when I was having a fit over the breathing tube they'd be putting in. I keep remember him saying, just the day before (or maybe even the night of), "Kim, we're having a daughter," and he was so excited. I remember him telling me that, when I woke up and was told that he went home to sleep, he was actually at home crying harder than he'd ever cried in his life, and it just rips me apart. I can't handle it. I can't bear that thought or that image, and it just adds to the grief and the fear. He was such a rock for me those three days and hearing him tell me how broken he really was just destroyed me. I also remember asking the nurses for him repeatedly (as best I could with a breathing tube in), and holding his hand so tightly whenever he was in the room. I remember, the minute I was out of the bed and dressed, we hugged each other so tight before being taken to the car and going home to a world that didn't feel real anymore. I was not triggered by the loss of my baby this time. I was triggered by the incredible vulnerability of my husband.
Honestly, I've been giving him a hard time lately. And he's been having a hard time lately, so I think I sort of needed that. It reminded me of who he really is. It reminded me that he can and will be there for me when I need him. He's had his moments lately where he's been selfish and lazy and downright uncaring, but I've also been emotional and standoffish. It's been a ride for sure. But, he's a good man, and I know that, and those flashbacks reminded me.
Today was a different kind of trigger, though. I wondered why I wasn't as sad about the baby last Thanksgiving as I was today. One could argue that it was still so fresh last year that I hadn't even registered yet what had happened, but I don't think that's the case. I think the reason is because last year at this time, that baby still would not have been born yet. She wasn't due until February. So, either way, we would not have had a baby to celebrate the holidays with. This year, she should be here. She should be celebrating her first Thanksgiving today, and her first Christmas next month. So, the loss feels much more evident this year, if that makes sense. And to top it off, people just say stupid shit that they don't even realize is really insensitive. I'll get to that in a minute. But, first I also want to mention that I hate being asked if I'm excited. And I know that's stupid, but the reason is because, truthfully, I'm not excited. And that devastates me. I can't get excited. I haven't been excited. I don't know the reason. I don't know if I've desensitized myself to the whole experience because of everything that happened last time. I don't know if I'm still in disbelief that I've made it this far. I don't know if it's because of the drama I've had going on with Ben and my dad and work. But, I was asked by my aunt today if I was excited and I didn't know how to answer it. I think I said something stupid like, "I'm excited not to be pregnant anymore." My mom keeps yelling at me to stop stalking my baby registry, but I can't get her to understand it's the only thing that gets me excited. Seeing what people have bought for me and what I'm going to be able to take home with me soon is the only thing that makes it seem even remotely like this is really happening. Yes, that means there will be little to no surprises at my shower, but I have to do this for my own mental health at this point. I'm sorry.
After that, we went to Ben's mom's for a second dinner. And I'm not telling this story to make anyone look bad or to complain about anyone. I love Ben's mom. She is a wonderful, caring woman who would truthfully be crushed if she knew this comment upset me so much. I'm saying it to bring awareness to people when talking to loss moms (or dads). During my last pregnancy, a week or so before we lost the baby, she made the comment "where is your baby?" because my bump was so small and if I'd wanted to, I could still easily hide the fact that I was pregnant. By that point, I was more than halfway through. So, when I walked in today, with my 33+-week belly, she commented that now you could tell I was pregnant. That I was much bigger this time. And then continued to say that if we have another one, you'll be able to tell sooner, because it takes longer to pop with the first one. I will say this slowly for all of those who keep forgetting: This. Is not. My first. Pregnancy. And I say this next part, not to downplay early losses or to make anyone feel like their own miscarriage is not as important as my loss, but to point out how confusing that statement was. I was visibly pregnant last time. It was not an early loss. I was not five days pregnant, or five weeks, or five minutes. I was five months pregnant. My body had adjusted to the hormones. My organs had shifted. The baby was moving. We knew it was a girl. We saw her fingers and her toes and eyes, etc. In two more weeks, she would have had a chance at survival if I'd delivered her. I was significantly pregnant. How could she forget that? How could she just act like those five months never happened? Like that baby never existed? Like that pregnancy somehow wasn't real? This is my second pregnancy. My second baby. And on most days, it feels like no one understands that but me. That baby was only real to me. And it just makes this whole experience so much more isolating.
Like I said, I know it wasn't meant to hurt me. But, it was a careless comment to make, and I was thankfully able to ignore it and not let it ruin the rest of the night. Pregnancy after loss is a tricky road to travel for everyone involved, and as much as I want to try to force people to remember my daughter, I don't want to do that. It's enough for me that Ben and I remember her. It's enough that we loved her and we still miss her, that we still talk about her. No one else matters much in the end.
This is ending up to be a long entry, which I didn't expect. So, all of that being said, I will finish with some exciting things. The baby's room is nearly finished being painted. The baby shower is next weekend. We've already got the bassinet and the breast pump, so if this baby decides to make their appearance before the shower, at least they'll have somewhere to sleep and something to eat. I am exhausted by all of the appointments and my emotions are all over the place, but I'm somehow still getting things done and putting one foot in front of the other. My mental state is better than it was months ago. I'm feeling stronger than I have been, and I know things will work out. Just one day at a time.
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