First, I just want to say thank you for the outpouring of love and support during these past few weeks. I’ve been kind of quiet the past few days as I’ve been recovering, but I wanted to update y’all on baby and me because I know so many of you have been praying!
I told my mom yesterday that my body feels like someone beat me up with a baseball bat. And my mind kind of feels like that, too. There are so many things I want to share with y’all – so many acts of kindness and examples of God’s goodness over the past few weeks – but I’m still in that post-pregnancy, post-trauma fog. At this point, all I am doing is going back and forth from the NICU to my bed. Pitiful, I know! But everyday I am getting stronger and back to my normal self.
As you may know, I was on hospital bed rest for about a month after my water broke way too early. On June 18th, our baby girl was born almost three months early, weighing two pounds, 15 ounces. With the birth of our baby, I felt such a relief that I didn’t have to worry about bleeding to death or something happening to the baby in utero. I thought my hospital nightmare was finally over. But I was wrong.
I am pretty sure I started showing symptoms during my time in postpartum. I was in so much pain. (Please someone explain to me: why it is up to the recovering moms to remember to have to ask for the good stuff every four hours?) I thought my extreme pain was due to it being my third c-section, or being on bed rest so long, but looking back think I was showing signs of something worse.
Anyway, I was discharged on a Thursday. On Friday night, I called the on-call doctor because I was hurting so badly. By Saturday evening, I was in so much pain that I could not get out of the bed. My sweet husband had to carry me to the bathroom. I was literally screaming as he did. The next morning, I was running a temp of 103. So off to the ER we went.
Due to my condition and really fast heart rate, the ER admitted me to the hospital. Once again, I was being poked and prodded and given test after test to try to figure out what was wrong. I was also given a strong cocktail of antibiotics in case I had a (common) post-op uterine infection. However, after several days, I was still running a fever so they knew something else was going on. I have to admit, I was scared. And not being able to see Louise during this time was extremely difficult.
Finally, by process of elimination, the doctors determined that I most likely had a rare and potentially dangerous post-op blood clot in the lining of my uterus (that got infected). Once they started treating me with blood thinners, my fevers started to break.
I was in the hospital eight days with this post-op complication and released earlier this week. I am still taking antibiotics and my husband has to give me blood thinner shots everyday for six weeks (I just don’t have the mental strength to give myself shots yet!).
To be honest, I hesitated to share all this, but I hope in doing so it raises awareness of post-pregnancy complications. I have seen so many news articles lately on how America has one of the highest maternal death rates in the developing world. This was definitely on my mind when I called my doctor’s after hours number that Sunday morning. I didn’t want to hesitate or delay at all if there was something seriously wrong. I really don’t want to think about what could have happened had I waited longer…you don’t mess around with blood clots, or any post-pregnancy complication really.
Enough about me, though!
Little Louise is doing really well. She’s had a few little setbacks but nothing major, particularly for a 28 weeker. Our preemie experience with our second daughter was so touch and go. We would call every few hours asking if she was still alive…it was that bad. So we are grateful that Louise’s NICU experience has been so much better and I pray it continues to go smoothly.
Louise is technically about 31 weeks gestation now and will probably be in the NICU until mid to late August. In the next few weeks I will be able to start trying to feed her. I am a tad overwhelmed at trying to manage being at the hospital for feedings when my girls are so clingy (and get upset if I leave for even a few minutes!), but I am sure it will all work out. The Lord has provided so abundantly and guided us so clearly these past few months. I know He will continue to do so.
Real quick I just want to say thank you to everyone for your prayers, texts, messages, and emails. They were such an encouragement to me on some of my darkest days.
Thank you to my friends who came over at a moment’s notice so my husband could take me the hospital that Sunday morning (we all need friends like that, right?), to my friends who have generously dropped off meals, and those who have had my girls over for playdates.
Thank you to our family who has been here off and on to help. My mom, mother-in-law, aunt, and my sister who’s coming this Sunday. (And is so sweet to help manage my Nordstrom Anniversary Sale posts coming up next week!).
Our church family who has diligently prayed for us. We attend a large church so you might think that our ordeal would go unnoticed. On the contrary, a pastor or elder called or visited us nearly everyday over the past two months. We felt so loved and cared for.
Our school family who has loved us just as much.
The amazing nurses on the antepartum floor who cared for me on bed rest and after being readmitted. As much as I didn’t want to be back on the antepartum floor, what a blessing it was to see familiar faces during such a scary time.
The wonderful doctors who cared for me. My doctor was out of the country during this whole ordeal. I always have this fear of “falling through the cracks,” but his partners in the practice cared for me like I was their own patient. I am so thankful that they left no stone unturned in figuring out what was wrong.
Of course I am so grateful for my husband, who has selflessly loved me in sickness and in health. He has not only “held down the fort” these past few months, but has been so steadfast in his devotion to me. He’s made a zillion trips back and forth to the hospital, never once complaining about the late nights, chair beds, or the random things I request he bring to me in the hospital. I feel so broken and bruised, inside and out, yet he still loves me and tells me I am the most beautiful woman in the world. I am so undeserving…
All thanks and glory to God who sustained me in some of my darkest days, who healed me and protected Louise and me throughout my pregnancy and who abundantly provided the things above and more.