Fear (due to the graphic nature of this post…guys probably shouldn’t read this)

My last post you got to see glimpse of where my love story of my life started….now let’s fast forward to today.

Today I felt Baby H. #2 move.

I felt little flutters in my tummy – unlike normal gas pains.  It was little tickles, little butterflies fluttering in my tummy.  A little hello from my tiny human.

And I want to say I was excited and happy.

And for a split second…I was.

But, this pregnancy has been a tough one.  So, I’m scared, fearful, to love this baby.  Alright – you got me…I already do.

I found out about Baby H. early on – about 4 weeks along.  I had bleeding early on and of course I went to my OB.  I got the same song and dance – “it’s early, let’s just wait and see.”

So we waited – the bleeding continued.  At around 7 weeks we had an ultrasound and the heavens spoke to us aka – we heard the heartbeat.  The beautiful sound…baboom baboom baboom…so amazing.

Craig squeezed my hand and I wiped my tears with the other.

The doctor also said I had some hemorrhaging in the placenta – which should fix itself – and that could explain all the bleeding.  I was told to live my life – and continue to wait.

So I did. I lived my life the only way I knew how….pedal to the metal, full throttle, 100 miles a minute.

With a booming business, mother of 2 year old, and wife…there isn’t much time to take a second.

Then one day – I felt odd.  Felt weird.  And fell to the ground.  I collapsed – not once, but twice.  My co-worker and her friend (who happens to be a doctor) brought me to the emergency room.

I was admitted and stayed for a few hours into the early evening.  Was treated for dehydration, vertigo, and exhaustion.

When Craig came home that evening, he begged me to take it easy.  If not for him or for me….but for the Baby.

So I did.

Kind of…

And before you break out the torches and perch your arms ready to throw stones…I thought I was taking it easy.  Instead of the 14 hour work days on my feet, I cut it back to mere 8 hours.

Then…funny thing happened last Monday.  I was sitting eating breakfast with Iz and I was exhausted since I had gotten up early to return emails for work after a long weekend of work.  She looked at me – oatmeal on her face and in her hair, mouth full of food, and said, “Momma – I love you.”

It was then I realized, I needed to take care of me…not just for the Baby I was carrying but for the child I already had and loved.  I vowed to take it easy…so of course on Monday and Tuesday I only put in 10 hour days…

Then Tuesday night rolls around.  A dinner with dear friends.  I laughed. We joked.  It was great.  I was on the phone with my best friend and we talked on my commute home.  I rushed into the bathroom – after 2 large glasses of ice water and not using the bathroom – I REALLY had to go.  I said my goodbye….and took a piss.

Craig was yelling at me from the bedroom – asking me how my friends were.  I was trying to tell him a story, wiped like I normally did, and then my world stopped.

Blood.

So much blood.

It was everywhere. On the tissue, in the toilet,  on the ground.

I screamed.  Craig rushed in.  Being the calm person he is – told me to sit down, calm down, and call my doctor.

Through tears, I recounted what was happening.  My doctor told me to relax, lay down, put my feet up.  If the bleeding didn’t stop – go to the emergency room.  If it subsided…even a little bit…wait until the next morning,  and he would see me first thing.

I waited. The pain in my back was unbearable.  I knew in my gut something was wrong.  But I also knew if I was going to miscarry…there was nothing that could be done as early in the pregnancy as I was.  But the bleeding lessened, the pain lessened, but the worry grew.

The next day – I woke up to crying…my own tears and began my day.  Craig stayed home from work, took Iz to school, and we went to see my doctor.

I was numb.  Going through each movement of dressing, getting into the car, trying to make small talk…but it was useless.

My doctor is a good friend of my mom’s.  So, I was rushed in as soon as I got there.  I laid down on the table, the nurse silently turned on the ultrasound machine, and walked out of the room.

I realized she didn’t say anything or look at me because I had already started to cry.

My doctor came in and we chatted for a minute.  The goo was put on my tummy…and I took a deep breath in.

There It was.  The Baby.  Moving…with a heartbeat.  The doctor said he/she looked fine.  Normal at the stage we were in.

Then he did more probing and inspection.  And it looks like I had/have placenta previa.  To complicate matters, I had pockets of blood clots and more hemorrhages that probably caused the bleeding the night before and was the cause of the pain.

He turned off the machine, looked at me and Craig and simply said..”This is going to be a difficult pregnancy.”

It is his hope that the previa will resolve itself like 90% of them do.  But, his concern is just getting me to the 3rd trimester, especially with the amount of bleeding I’ve had.

I was told to stay off my feet, told to do nothing but paperwork, relax, and pray.

God is funny.  He knew I needed to rest…and so He did this to force me to do so.

But, now, I am in a constant state of fear.  I pray about it.  I do.  But, every time I go to the bathroom, every pain in my back, every moment I feel “different” – I’m fearful that I’m not pregnant anymore.

I mean…even the great joy of having a BM (sorry..but if you have EVER had a baby…you know that having a normal BM is one you rejoice in…) has been clouded by fear.

Laugh at me all you want…but even if I have to pass gas…I’m scared I’m going to…well just scared.

And I’m writing this…not to get pity or to get sympathy. But to share with anyone who is going through this that they are not alone.

I’m writing this to my friends who were not as fortunate as me who did miscarry…and endured the ultimate pain of losing a baby.

I’m writing this because in this sisterhood called motherhood – we can all relate to loving the little creature growing inside of us and wanting only for him/her to grow enough so we can hold that little being in our arms.

So, now my friends, I wait.  I sit.  I lay down…a lot.  And I pray…even more.