Baby Drama

Last night was about as drama filled as it could have possibly been.  I'll start by saying that I'm okay and that the baby is okay (and the words I've thought over and over again since last night: "Thank You God!!!").  And thanks to everyone who offered prayers for my special intention.  This is what you were praying about:

We were having a great time yesterday evening.  We'd gone to a birthday party at a nearby park and the girls had run around the park and were full of hot dogs and cupcakes.  We'd found that fearless Mae Bae does have one weakness... bugs... and that upon seeing a bug land on her leg (even a harmless little gnat) she's reduced to hysterics for about 10 minutes.  The gnat was what finally pushed us into going home (because Mae Bae was becoming progressively more covered in cupcake frosting and the bugs were definitely not going to be leaving her alone until she'd had a bath).

All in all it was a great evening.  As we walked home I told Paul that I thought it was the most fun we'd had since we got to Florida...

I felt great.  I'd been feeling some pain on and off from one of the cysts earlier in the day, but nothing that really worried me.  Then I went into the bathroom and discovered that I was spotting, more heavily than the incident five weeks ago.  I called Paul and asked him to watch the girls and went into the master bathroom and sat in the tub and cried, pretty much hysterically, for about an hour.  I told myself I had to pull it together, walked into the closet to find some clothes, saw the Moses basket I'd pulled out last week, and cried for another five minutes.

After a few deep breaths I reminded myself that I needed to stop crying.  Earlier this week I told Paul I was feeling a little nauseous and was going to lay down a bit longer before dinner and Sadie burst into tears at the dinner table and cried for five minutes before telling me she was scared the baby was sick.  She remembers vividly the three months I was sick last time (it's really scary for a little kid to have mommy start hemorrhaging while walking around the house on a more than weekly basis) and if I lay down to rest the first thing she'll say is:  "Mommy, are you feeling well?"  And while she doesn't remember that I wasn't really sick until after we lost the baby, she does equate me being sick with us losing the last baby.

So I stopped crying and went out and found out she still had a head full of sand from the sand box and was demanded Mommy wash it.  Once her hair was finally clean, I helped get the girls ready for bed and told Paul I thought they'd be okay without me, since they go to bed in their own beds by themselves now.  I kissed Sadie goodbye (Mae Bae was too busy running amok or doing whatever it was she was doing to avoid bedtime) and told her I had to go out for a little while and headed to the hospital.

While crying hysterically I'd thought pretty much non-stop about whether or not I'd go in (while simultaneously pleading with God: "not again, not again, not again...").  I felt stupid going in.  It wasn't like I thought they'd be able to do anything if there was a problem.  My own doctor, yes (or at least I know she'd try), but the ER?  And of course it had to happen on a Friday night just after the office closed.

Still the idea of not knowing, all weekend was unbearable.  I would go crazy.  That kind of stress couldn't be good for either one of us.  Besides things had gone wrong so fast last time and this seemed to be starting in exactly the same way...  And so I began to drive.

The ER was awesome.  They whisked me back right away, and the doctor was in the room in a matter of moments.  Before they could draw blood the sonogram tech was there to take me for a sonogram.  I told him I was really hoping he'd see and hear a good strong heartbeat, and not a slow one at 90 beats per minute like the one we saw at 12 weeks last time.  After taking some measurements he said that the cyst might have burst because he wasn't seeing anything like the one I'd described and that might be what I felt earlier in the day (before there were several, with the largest one measuring 7.5 cm, this time there was 1 that was 2 cm).  Next he told me there was a heartbeat, but he didn't know the rate yet.  And then finally, that there was a heartbeat, and it was a strong 178 beats per minutes.  The baby was also measuring in at 10 weeks and 2 days (the sonogram to date the pregnancy at 5 weeks put me at 9 weeks and 5 days, so I guess we have another fast growing baby).  Everything looked great.

After more blood tests they told me everything was perfect except my potassium level (which is pretty much the story of my life... my potassium is perpetually low) and after giving me a giant horse-sized potassium pill (and hearing some very interesting It's-Friday-Night-in-the-ER conversations and deciding that every nurse in the area had to be a saint in the making for their incredible patience) I was told it was another threatened miscarriage, that I should see my doctor when the office reopens and then I was sent, feeling greatly relieved, on my way.

I think I'm going to be taking it very easy this weekend.  I guess I just need to get used to the fact that spotting seems to be a normal part of this pregnancy and not panic at the sight of blood.  My main barrier to that is that I never had spotting during my two healthy pregnancies, and so my only experience with it was the miscarriage, which obviously turned out horribly.  But they tell me that spotting isn't abnormal during pregnancy, so I guess I just need to keep that in mind before I burst into hysterical tears.

That's the latest, rather drama filled update.  Can I put in a request for an easy 6 1/2 months from here on out?  I'm up for the normal aches and pains and discomforts of being pregnant... but I'm also ready to not be panicked on a fairly regular basis!