Let me catch you all up on our exciting lives.
Warning! It's long, overly detailed with only two pictures, and involves blood and urine.
J
anuary 2: I happily interrupted Cory who was wrangling Henry in an attempt to get ready for church. It was apparent that he was a little confused as to why I would stop him from urging Henry to finish eating his cereal. I showed him this fancy digital read to assure him it was worth being a little more late for church:
February 8: Cory and I went to our initial appointment at Carolina Women's Health to meet with the nurse practitioner and schedule our first OB appointment. We mainly addressed my over-the-top fatigue and what seemed like too-early symptoms of sciatic pain and an inflating belly. Our OB appointment and initial ultrasound was scheduled for February 18.
February 16: I called my parents around 1:30 AM to tell them I was pregnant. Only, all I managed to say when Daddy picked up was, "Sorry to bother you, but could one of you meet me at the ER?" Then I cried. Cory took over the phone conversation and explained that I was pregnant but was bleeding heavily, and that the on call nurse instructed us to go to the St. Francis ER. Grandjane and Grandjoe rushed over to our house so that Cory and I could leave and they could stay at home with Henry.
Once the ultrasound tech arrived to wheel me back to the machinery, we already spent about three hours just sitting in an exam room while a (terrible) show called "The First 48" ran its all night marathon. Needless to say, we were groggy, foggy, and must have carried a presence of general malaise. However, despite the fog and fatigue, I can recall with vivid accuracy the image that the ultrasound tech showed us. (Cory tried to stop her from showing me, but she assured us it wasn't bad.) It was not the expected embryo but a fetus--with busy arms and legs and a steady, resonate heartbeat. Amazing! Beautiful! We were shocked and confused, and the one thing that I am not to clear on is my verbal response. I either said, "Oh, wow! That's not what I expected to see," or I said, "Oh, s#*!" I do know that I had to pee like a mother (pun intended) and when I got back on the table, the tech showed us more images and said that she regretted not having film to provide us pictures of our little baby who was measuring at approximately 12 weeks--at least three, almost four, weeks older than we originally thought.
The fog of total distress was lifted. The ER doctor came in to tell us that he consulted with my OB over the images, and that there is a tear in the placenta which is common and not usually threatening but can cause very heavy bleeding. We returned home around 7:00 AM and were greeted with a chatty Henry, thanks to the dose of ibuprofen administered by Grandjoe. (Henry was sick with a fever of 104.9. That boy runs some high fevers!) It occurred to me that the midnight emergency was actually in good timing. He was oblivious. I sat on the couch with H and watched some cartoons then called both the pediatrician and my OB to schedule appointments. Later that afternoon, Cory took Henry to his doctor, and I went to see my doctor.
Bleeding was still heavy when I saw Dr. Keith that afternoon, so she did another ultrasound herself and then informed me that yes, tears were common, but that this one was larger than common and that, while it was never proven to directly help a tear heal, she was recommending bed rest until at least my regularly scheduled appointment for that Friday. She explained that at least it may help the blood flow to lessen and therefore start to clot.
February 18: At my regularly scheduled appointment, Dr. Keith gave us great news. The tear was clotted and she thought that after a long weekend (including the President's Day holiday) of rest, I could return to work, just being careful not to lift, walk too much, etc...
February 22: I returned to work and about halfway through the work day, despite my attempts to consolidate my steps, I felt mild cramping and responded to Cory's mid-day inquiry about how I was feeling with, "definitely will need to go straight to bed after work." I did go to bed early, but I also felt a strong inner heat localized to the tear area when I leaned over to get my PJ's out of the drawer.
February 23: I called my OB to report the cramps and heat and the accompanying spotting that began again that morning at work. She assured me that it was OK, just to keep taking it as easy as possible and to not miss my appointment for that Friday morning and to call if it worsened.
February 25: I left work to go to my OB appointment, and since spotting and cramping were recurring, Dr. Keith did another ultrasound. This time, her news was that the tear was back--larger. The treatment plan was complete bed rest for an indefinite time period. I went to my office after calling Cory and took care of a few important emails and some quick paperwork and managed to avoid coworkers. My brain was reeling from thoughts of personal and professional obligations, but my overriding love and concern for this baby took me home and to bed.
From here we had weekly OB visits, my muscle tone quickly diminished, my ass grew larger along with my daytime television knowledge, and we kept a close circle of friends and family informed of the situation and progress. At one visit, we were informed that the tear was larger once again but that it was already clotting again--a good sign. We slowly began to widen the circle of knowing and support, and our hopes were building. Tests for trace amounts of protein in my urine and for anemia due to about three weeks of constant bleeding came back negative. Positive signs of assurance were all around.
Here's where it gets a lot more fun and a lot less gross...
March 21: Our sixth ultrasound was scheduled, and we were 16 weeks pregnant. On our way to the appointment, Cory asked me, "Last chance. Do you think it's a boy or girl?" Truthfully, I was having images of a boy, but this pregnancy was so darn troublesome compared to Henry's uterine residence, that I had a nagging feeling we were about to find out it was a girl. So, I replied, "I don't know. What do you think?" Cory shrugged, "I really don't know, but I am going to guess girl." So I concurred with, "OK. Then I will guess girl, too. That way we can both be wrong."
And, I was right! We were both wrong! The ultrasound showed clear evidence of male anatomy. Plus, we were elated to find out that the tear was healing and was almost half the size measured at the most recent ultrasound. Baby boy himself looked great and was measuring about a week ahead of schedule. Woo Hoo, Yahoo, Hallelujah, Thank Goodness, Yea! We immediately began to discuss family names again, and I pulled out my ace in the hole. We are already close to agreeing on the dubbing of our newest boy.
And, since we were feeling quite optimistic on this day, we decided to share the ultrasound images and the news with Henry. I will post the video soon. Meanwhile, just know that it only took a few minutes to convince him that it was good news. He also provided baby boy with his in utero name, and based on what we saw on the ultrasound, it's fitting. Introducing...
Baby Cocks!
(Profile shot)
Bed rest and hopefully healing continue. Signs of hope and joy are all around, including the faint movements of our busy and growing boy. I began feeling them just a day or so after the last ultrasound. He also seems to be making lots of room for himself, possibly the cause of a whole new set of cramps and constant pains that subsided after about a week. Dr. Keith offered to let me stop by the office anytime to listen to the heartbeat, and I took advantage of the offer just last Tuesday. The assuring rhythm is still going strong.
When I say, "Baby!" you say, "Cocks!" Go Cocks!
