A Very Short Long Time

And here is my poignant, "isn't it funny?" post for the day.

One year ago today, two days before Christmas, I was going through one of the worst times of my life for the second time in one year. For the second time, I had to go to the hospital, months too soon, to evacuate my womb of the products of conception, our baby whose life was over before it ever really started. It was hard to think of a worse way to spend Christmas, bloated and sad, wallowing instead of joyfully sharing the news of our pregnancy with our families.

It was an easy D&C, compared to the first one. It was the first time I met Dr. J, who was so kind and supportive. My recovery was physically easy and I wasn't plunged into a world of questions and uncertainty, also in contrast to the first time. Still, I couldn't help but wonder whether I would ever be pregnant for more than one trimester. Could I ever expect my babies not to die? Would I always just cycle through TTC, early pregnancy, and miscarriage?

Then there was this little taboo that seemed to come along with multiple miscarriages. One was horrible and tragic. But two? After two, we seemed to enter the realm of "they have problems." I was dissatisfied with how even close family seemed to try to sweep this under the rug. I'm sure they were following my lead, and I sure didn't want to bring it up. But I would have liked to talk about it a little bit more. Instead, I got depressed. But we all know I came out the other side and was finally able to move on, eventually.

And fast forward: today, December 23, one year after my D&C, I turned 37 weeks, technically full-term, with our expected first born. Instead of lonely, bloated and sad on Christmas, I'll be... well, still a little bit lonely since we can't travel, definitely bloated, but excited and expectant--no sad. I'm finally pretty much on the other side of that "perspective" that the whole crappy year of 2008 was supposed to give me.

I can't say it all worked out for the best. While I'm glad I'm not huge in the summer, I'm not exactly loving being huge during ice storms either. I am glad we're already in a house and not still in the old duplex. I could probably come up with a whole list of pros and cons of now versus what would have been, but it's not worth my time.

The point is, I'm not trying to be super sentimental here and say that one outcome is necessarily better than another. Clearly, we would not have Lily if Vector had survived. Is this a good thing? Not necessarily--it's not for me to know. The contrast between December 23, 2008 and December 23, 2009 shows how much can change in a year, and I'm glad for the changes. Having a baby wiggling in my belly is so much better than being freshly scraped out. Changing holiday plans for late pregnancy is so much better than changing holiday plans for miscarriage recovery.

A year past always feels so much shorter than a year ahead. Being full-term pregnant a year after a D&C shows just how short that long time can be.

Not a Boring Appointment

I had in my head a post to write tonight, pondering the changes that can happen in one year.

I'll get to that in a while, but I have to be newsy first! See, I'm 37 weeks today, and I had one of my weekly appointments today. The appointments have all been pretty in-and-out, and I thought today would be no exception. I did have Dr. J, my favorite who is the best at listening, so I decided to write out my "Birth Preferences" so she could look them over and give input. Turns out, we didn't get to that.

First of all, I had a 3:15pm appointment time, different from the norm lately when they've been mostly in the morning so Erich could go. We figured he'd be okay to miss this one. However, as the ice storm rolled into town, he decided to come home early so he could go to the appointment and work a little from home afterward.

He met me at the office and we waited at least 40 minutes before I got called back. I pulled out my little alarm clock that I use for piano lessons which happens to have a thermometer and learned that it was almost SEVENTY-SEVEN DEGREES FAHRENHEIT in there. Yeah, I was boiling. Why would they try to cook the pregnant ladies? I don't get it. Anyway, I went back with the nurse, gave my urine specimen and she had me get on the scale right away. After many weeks of varying by one pound up and down, today I was up four pounds. I was not very surprised as I have been very swollen lately, though not as badly in the last few days. Then she took my blood pressure and frowned. At 130/90 it was, in her exact wording, "borderline-ish." Not wanting to sound the preeclampsia alarm prematurely, she said she'd give me a few minutes of sitting down and take it again. Indeed, it was lower just a few minutes later: 120/80.

The nurse got me and Erich into the exam room, and I got ready for the internal exam. Dr. J came in around 4:15 and said that if it weren't so close to "the holiday" (that's Christmas, btw) she would just watch me, but since my blood pressure was so much higher than the 110/52 from early pregnancy AND because there was protein in my urine, she was sending me to Labor & Delivery for monitoring. Ugh. Next came the measurements, and as I scooted to get into position, she poked my lower legs and I admitted I've been swollen, and she seemed concerned. Baby's heartbeat was present and accounted for, she didn't say anything about my belly's measurement, so I assume that's okay. The dreaded internal revealed that I'm not quite a fingertip dilated (so not really at all), but the cervix is soft and the head is down nice and low.

Dr. J gave us a flurry of instructions: go to L&D, hopefully they'll let me go after an hour, come back to the office on Monday, take it easy--let Erich do everything now (so much harder than it seems), blah blah. I have to pat myself on the back here for staying completely calm after a very fleeting moment of OMGWTFBBQ. I knew it was unlikely I would have a baby that day and I knew worrying about it too much would do nothing to help my blood pressure, so I just went with it. It was also at this point I realized how lucky it was that Erich was at my appointment so he could do the short drive to the hospital and be with me through the whole ordeal.

Into the hospital we went, I changed into a gown, peed in a jar, and a nurse hooked me up to the fetal monitors and BP cuff. I had to answer a million questions and get blood drawn. Then we just got to wait, watch TV, surf the web on our phones, etc. Each time the blood pressure cuff went off, I practiced my Hypnobabies techniques, and each time my BP went down. The final reading was 119/65! I'm thinking it helped that I was still and relaxed and it wasn't a burning furnace there in triage. It was fun to hear Lily's heartbeat and all the whooshing sounds when she would move around. It saved me the trouble of telling Erich when I could feel her move! At about 6:10 the nurse came back to say my labs came back normal (yay), my urine was clear and I'm plenty hydrated (yay) and I could go along home. She sent supplies for a 24-hour urine collection (YAAAAYYYYYY), which we can drop off on our way to church for Christmas Eve services, heh.

On the way out, Erich had to make me walk slowly. Oops. "Do I still have to rest?" I wondered aloud. "YES, you still have to REST," said my wonderful, supportive and incredulous husband. That's just the problem--I don't feeeeel like I have to rest. Erich said it's not bed rest or anything, but it is "butt rest." As in, I have to stay on my butt as much as possible. Again, I'm as lazy as the next guy, but I have presents to wrap! A baby's room to organize! This is so much easier said than done.

Aside from all that, I have to say a big thank you to Baby Jesus for letting Lily stay in to cook a bit longer. I want to avoid an induction and/or c-section at all costs, which is much easier if I stay low-risk! I wouldn't mind a 2009 baby, but I'd rather she come on her own when she's ready in 2010.