Sunday, October 9, 2011

I'll Give You Something to Worry About - 7 Weeks

As I write this blog, I realize how truly blessed I have been throughout my life. Yes, there were some rough times, some scary times, and some times where I felt like God was personally punishing me. As I linger on the phrase, "God doesn't give you anything you can't handle," I realize that instead of dishing that advice out to others, I now have to learn to apply it to my own life.

While pregnant with Lidia, I worried all the time. I worried when she didn't move as much as usual, I worried about all the things that could possibly go wrong, I just worried. I remember hearing people say, "Just wait until she's born, the worrying will get worse." But I literally couldn't wait until she was born for the mere fact that I could see her and I could protect her. So many of the unfortunate tragedies that happen to babies in the womb can not be prevented. They just happen without warning and sometimes without cause. I'm all about the idea of control, which is one of the many reasons I am fearful of flying.

I wouldn't consider myself a true hypochondriac, but I do worry about myself and my health. This is the anxiety that plagues me on a daily basis. This very fact baffles me when it comes to the next chain of events. Back in May, I began noticing some pain in my lower left abdomen. It didn't feel like a digestive issue, and I thought for sure it had something to do with my woman parts. I made an appointment with my OB, but then cancelled the appointment because the pain seemed to dissipate. Throughout the next couple of months, the pain would come and go. It wouldn't cause too much trouble, it was just sore. When I would get into my car or have to have a seat any other way than my butt hitting the chair on a straight vertical trajectory, I would have to grimace in pain for a couple of seconds, but then the pain would vanish. After I returned from my trip to San Diego (about two weeks ago), I decided to finally make an appointment with my family doctor. Perhaps it wasn't woman issues, maybe it was digestive issues.

I wasn't sure what to expect going into the appointment. I guess I just wanted reassurance that I was OK. Being pregnant had almost made the pain worse, so I was hoping the doctor would have a treatment plan for me. After describing my symptoms, she was almost positive that I had Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or IBS. As she was leaving, she hesitated for a moment and said, "You know, you're pregnant. I think I would feel better ordering you an ultrasound so we can completely rule out an ectopic pregnancy." I was disturbed at the thought of an ectopic pregnancy, but was relieved that we were finally getting to the bottom of this pain. I left the office with my ultrasound appointment scheduled for 10 days later.

Going into the appointment, I honestly was not worried. I really did not think I had an ectopic pregnancy, after reading all of the facts about it on the web. I was more so excited to actually get a glimpse of our baby so early. We had to wait until 20 weeks gestation with Lidia to get a peek at her. Being able to get a peek at 6 weeks, 5 days was amazing to me. So, I went on with my daily routine until this day, the day when everything changed.

The ultrasound was a fairly quick process. The ultrasound technician immediately found the baby cozzied up in my uterus, right where baby should be. She focused in on the heartbeat, and it was going steady at 118 beats per minute. At this moment the pregnancy actually clicked with me. Tears started to spontaneously fall from my eyes and I was just so gosh darn happy. The ultrasound tech was doing the ultrasound on my belly, how most ultrasounds are done. However, she was unable to locate my left ovary. She was able to find my right ovary and it checked out just fine. She noticed that my bladder seemed full through the ultrasound so she recommended that I "empty" it and return back for a transvaginal ultrasound. I went to go relieve myself, but there was a slight problem - there was no relieving to be done. I thought that was rather odd and reported it back to the ultrasound tech. I was for sure I had to go and she even saw it on the ultrasound...or did she?

I had never had a transvaginal ultrasound done before this day. Want to know what it is? Google it. It's not such a pleasant experience. So, as I'm sitting there thinking everything is OK and thinking about how my diet is going to have to change to control my IBS symptoms, I was thrown a curve ball - literally. The ultrasound tech discovered a large cyst growing on my left ovary, whose size she compared to a baseball. This cyst is what she thought was my full bladder, and explains why I wasn't able to "empty" it. It was 7 cm in diameter. And I was totally freaked. As she recorded all of the measurements of this alien growing inside of me, I was trying to conceive the notion of this new finding. She explained that this cyst could be the reason why it took us a bit longer to get pregnant this time, as the chance of me actually ovulating from that ovary were slim to none. As she left to go get the sonogram doctor (I'm sure he has a more official title), I texted Jason the news. Soon after, the doctor came in the room to explain the meaning of this cyst.

"Torsion." "Rupture." "Surgery." "I don't think it's cancerous." The doctor threw those words out there and like a magnet, they immediately stuck to me. Apparently, this nice little cyst has been growing in me at least since my first signs of pain in May. Had I not been pregnant at the time of discovery, there were several options of treatment they could have done. Now that I am pregnant and the cyst is so large, treatment will have to be put on hold indefinitely. The first question I asked him was if he had seen healthy, full-term pregnancies with women who had cysts as large as mine. His immediate response was, "Many." But of course, if it keeps growing, twists, or ruptures, surgery will be necessary and immediate. The scenario we are all hoping for is that Mr. Baseball stays 7 cm and does not grow, twist, or rupture. If that happens, then my pregnancy will be as normal as it was with Lidia. I will have to be monitored on a more consistent basis (ultrasounds, blood tests, etc.) and I will have to "man up" and deal with the pain. The doctor doesn't believe it is cancerous because it is mostly fluid-filled, the walls that border the ovary are thin, and I am considered young (though I surely do not feel it).

I cannot put into words the feelings I had as I left this appointment. I was laughing and crying and because of this, I thought I was headed to the loony bin. I was so happy that our baby was in my uterus and thriving, but I was so scared. The "what-if" scenarios kept replaying in my head and I couldn't stop them. I called Jason crying. Like a man, he was mad. And I think if you really probed him, he was just mad that this was happening to me - to us.

And 1 week later, our feelings still haven't changed much. We've let the news be known to more people than we wanted to at this time, but only because we desperately need the support and prayers of family and friends. And given my past "hypochondriacism," I still don't understand why I didn't address the problem months ago. Because if I had, then we wouldn't be in the situation that we are in now. Which leads me to my first lesson of this pregnancy - always trust your instincts, despite what others may think of you. I won't be able to meet with my OB until Oct. 28th, but I am hopeful that I will leave her office with a better outlook and a game plan. Even though I want to curse and yell at her for not being able to meet with me earlier, I have to trust that if it was that terrible, then she would have demanded to see me sooner.

You know the old saying, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?" I would like to relate this to my cyst, my frenemy. If I do good things for it, it may do good things for me. While I absolutely hate the fact that it is in me and causing me pain, if I can find ways to live with it then we all will be happier.

So, like I wrote in Lidia's blog - no pregnancy is like another. Even your own pregnancies are very different. And already baby peanut is making his/her statement of individuality. And here baby is, as individual as he/she can be. Baby peanut, you are beautiful.





































Symptoms

I am so grateful that I wrote a blog with Lidia. I've been perusing her blog during this pregnancy to get an idea if what I am feeling is matching up to what I felt before. I am utterly exhausted, sick all day, and so bloated that I feel like I look 5 months pregnant. I feel like all of these symptoms are 10 times worse than the symptoms I had with Lidia. Again, it might be the amnesia kicking in, or perhaps its my baseball that is intensifying the symptoms. None-the-less, they are here and they are making themselves be known. I spend 10 minutes in the cafeteria everyday contemplating which soup makes me want to throw up less. And in terms of meat, I might as well become a vegetarian because the thought of chicken, turkey, or anything that walks or blinks an eye makes me want to hurl.

In complaining about my symptoms to a neighbor, she reminded me, "You know, those symptoms mean that your pregnancy is going as it should and that your baby is healthy." That statement struck a chord with me and ever since then I have been trying to be thankful that I even have symptoms. Luckily, I have my dear, sweet Lidia and my devoted husband to keep my mind off my symptoms and focused on life in the present. And what a present we are about to be gifted in 225 days.

Blueberry

Things have been pretty busy for you down there, peanut! You are now the size of a blueberry, at 1/2 an inch long. Your heart and brain are continuing to grow and your arm and leg joints are forming. Already, your eyes, ears, nose, cheeks, and chin are taking their place. I certainly cannot wait to squeeze those cheeks of yours!

Baby peanut, we cannot wait to welcome you into our family. Your daddy is already anxious to get your room set up. Mommy can't wait to hold you while rocking in your rocking chair. And Lidia can't wait to teach you all the cool stuff she knows! Keep growing my dear, and know that we feel so blessed and thankful for every week that you are still with us.

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