12/28/12
We had our first ultrasound yesterday, and we actually got to have T do it. It's completely different to have someone who actually cares about you as a person and hugs you when they come in the room. She gave us lots of information, answered questions, and best of all, got to the ultrasound fast.
I take that back, best of all, there was a heartbeat! We could see it flickering very clearly on the screen. Everything else looked good, too. The yolk sack was there, the shape around the baby was normal, there was a whiter lining around it (don't remember what it was, but apparently it was good). T thought she could see what would become the umbilical cord, too.
The baby measured 6 weeks 3 days on most of the measurements she took. We thought we were 6 weeks 5 days, but at this stage it's not abnormal to be within a few days. Plus, we were estimating based on my last menstrual period, so we could be wrong. The only thing that scares me is that the last baby quit growing at 6 weeks, 3 days. We went in at 6 weeks 1 day and could see the heartbeat just like this time. Two weeks later, there was no heartbeat and the baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks 3 days.
We have an ultrasound again next week to look for growth. Honestly, I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much until then. And I know we aren't out of the woods at 7 weeks, but it will pass that milestone for me. Everyone keeps saying that everything will be fine, not to worry until we have something to worry about, etc. But everyone said that last time and it was not fine. So while we did take a step in the right direction, I am still trying to guard my heart and wait to see what God has in store.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
6 Weeks!
It is December 22nd, and we are 6 weeks along today. It has been a very long 2 weeks so far; I can only imagine what the next few months are going to be like.
We found out December 8th that we were pregnant. The home pregnancy test was a digital one, so it very clearly said "pregnant." I had woken Stephen up to tell him I was going to take the test (and couldn't wait any longer because I really had to go to the bathroom). Every single test I've ever taken we've looked at together, and this one was no different. When the timer went off, we looked, and there it was!
The first thing Stephen did was pray, which was the best thing he could have done. We were happy, but more than anything, we were scared. After losing the last baby, it is terrifying to think that we could go through that again. But no matter how hard we try, there is no way to keep ourselves from getting attached to this one.
We tried to get our parents together to tell them all at once again. But if I called and did the same thing as last time, they would know (or at least be suspicious). So we ended up buying picture frames that said something about grandchildren being the greatest gifts, and in the photo area I made a "For a picture of Baby Washburn coming on or around August 17, 2013" card. Then we took them over to each of their houses and gave it to them. As soon as we randomly walked in the door and handed them a present, they all pretty much knew. There were tears and hugs and little dances. But we were only 4 weeks, so we all knew it was a long road ahead.
We haven't exactly been keeping it a secret, but we haven't been telling a lot of people either. Having to notify everyone of the miscarriage last time was really hard. But at the same time, we want people to know if we miscarry because we want to have the support of family and friends. Plus, it's so hard to keep this a secret!
I think my first cravings were the Sweet Potato Smashfries and Smashburger. They sounded so good, when most food did not sound appealing at all. I haven't really been sick (at least I haven't thrown up), but I've been nauseous off and on and food just hasn't sounded very good.
Last week, so at about 5 and a half weeks, there was some spotting Tuesday night. When I saw it, my arms went numb. I think it was adrenaline. It was too similar to what we'd experienced before and it terrified me. I took the next day off of work. Luckily, I had told some good friends at work about the pregnancy (and they also knew about the miscarriage), so they all covered for me and made it really easy. I pretty much stayed in bed the next day. I don't know if bed rest would help this early in pregnancy, but I figured it certainly wouldn't hurt. Stephen came home during lunch and worked from here the rest of the day. We did a blood test that night, and the results were good. My progesterone level was at 17 (over 10 is good) and my hcg level was above 33,000! Which is really high. Stephen says it's twins. We did another hcg level test on Friday morning (about 36 hours later), and it was up above 47, 0000, which is a pretty good increase. From what I've read, the hcg level should double approximately every 72 hours. And even though my body doesn't really deal with miscarriage well, I don't think the hcg level would be rising if I wasn't still pregnant.
We have our first ultrasound with T on December 27th. I'm so excited for it to be with her, someone who cares about us as individuals and not just another patient. I was the sickest I've been this morning. I was at the point where I was debating whether I needed to head to the bathroom to throw up or not. As much as I hate throwing up, I want to so bad right now because it would be another sign that this was actually happening. I know not all women throw up, but it is a classic pregnancy symptom.
I have had to go to the bathroom a lot, which is good. I think I have a cyst, which T says is good (and normal) because it secretes hormones. It's painful sometimes, and it makes me worried when there's pain in that area, but if it's helping the baby, bring it on. I have been craving deviled egg sandwiches on whole wheat english muffins with a piece of green leaf lettuce on the top. How's that for very specific? But it's not an unhealthy craving. And it gets me some protein and a little bit of vegetables. So I've had them the last two days. And they've never tasted so good.
The last two weeks have been very emotional. Checking for spotting every time I go to the bathroom, being crazy in tune with every twinge and cramp coming from the area, plus having crazy amounts of hormones making everything even more emotional that it would have been otherwise. But at the same time, I am so excited for this baby. We are praying all the time, and I know we've got tons of prayers out there with our family and friends who believe that God can make miracles happen. So here's to our little miracle.
We found out December 8th that we were pregnant. The home pregnancy test was a digital one, so it very clearly said "pregnant." I had woken Stephen up to tell him I was going to take the test (and couldn't wait any longer because I really had to go to the bathroom). Every single test I've ever taken we've looked at together, and this one was no different. When the timer went off, we looked, and there it was!
The first thing Stephen did was pray, which was the best thing he could have done. We were happy, but more than anything, we were scared. After losing the last baby, it is terrifying to think that we could go through that again. But no matter how hard we try, there is no way to keep ourselves from getting attached to this one.
We tried to get our parents together to tell them all at once again. But if I called and did the same thing as last time, they would know (or at least be suspicious). So we ended up buying picture frames that said something about grandchildren being the greatest gifts, and in the photo area I made a "For a picture of Baby Washburn coming on or around August 17, 2013" card. Then we took them over to each of their houses and gave it to them. As soon as we randomly walked in the door and handed them a present, they all pretty much knew. There were tears and hugs and little dances. But we were only 4 weeks, so we all knew it was a long road ahead.
We haven't exactly been keeping it a secret, but we haven't been telling a lot of people either. Having to notify everyone of the miscarriage last time was really hard. But at the same time, we want people to know if we miscarry because we want to have the support of family and friends. Plus, it's so hard to keep this a secret!
I think my first cravings were the Sweet Potato Smashfries and Smashburger. They sounded so good, when most food did not sound appealing at all. I haven't really been sick (at least I haven't thrown up), but I've been nauseous off and on and food just hasn't sounded very good.
Last week, so at about 5 and a half weeks, there was some spotting Tuesday night. When I saw it, my arms went numb. I think it was adrenaline. It was too similar to what we'd experienced before and it terrified me. I took the next day off of work. Luckily, I had told some good friends at work about the pregnancy (and they also knew about the miscarriage), so they all covered for me and made it really easy. I pretty much stayed in bed the next day. I don't know if bed rest would help this early in pregnancy, but I figured it certainly wouldn't hurt. Stephen came home during lunch and worked from here the rest of the day. We did a blood test that night, and the results were good. My progesterone level was at 17 (over 10 is good) and my hcg level was above 33,000! Which is really high. Stephen says it's twins. We did another hcg level test on Friday morning (about 36 hours later), and it was up above 47, 0000, which is a pretty good increase. From what I've read, the hcg level should double approximately every 72 hours. And even though my body doesn't really deal with miscarriage well, I don't think the hcg level would be rising if I wasn't still pregnant.
We have our first ultrasound with T on December 27th. I'm so excited for it to be with her, someone who cares about us as individuals and not just another patient. I was the sickest I've been this morning. I was at the point where I was debating whether I needed to head to the bathroom to throw up or not. As much as I hate throwing up, I want to so bad right now because it would be another sign that this was actually happening. I know not all women throw up, but it is a classic pregnancy symptom.
I have had to go to the bathroom a lot, which is good. I think I have a cyst, which T says is good (and normal) because it secretes hormones. It's painful sometimes, and it makes me worried when there's pain in that area, but if it's helping the baby, bring it on. I have been craving deviled egg sandwiches on whole wheat english muffins with a piece of green leaf lettuce on the top. How's that for very specific? But it's not an unhealthy craving. And it gets me some protein and a little bit of vegetables. So I've had them the last two days. And they've never tasted so good.
The last two weeks have been very emotional. Checking for spotting every time I go to the bathroom, being crazy in tune with every twinge and cramp coming from the area, plus having crazy amounts of hormones making everything even more emotional that it would have been otherwise. But at the same time, I am so excited for this baby. We are praying all the time, and I know we've got tons of prayers out there with our family and friends who believe that God can make miracles happen. So here's to our little miracle.
No Oops!
*Note, I actually wrote this about a month ago, but never published it.*
So we went in for another MRI to see if the doctor had made a mistake on the surgery. Last time, even though I had worn sweatpants, a tshirt, a sports bra, and a hair twisty with no metal, I still had to wear a hospital gown. So this time, I wore normal clothes and didn't worry about it. When I got there, he said because I was wearing jeans, I would have to change. When asked, he said I wouldn't have had to change if I'd worn sweatpants. Apparently different MRI techs have different opinions.
This time I didn't have a gown, I had fancy gauze-ish blue shorts. Basically like the disposable hospital gowns, but sewn into shorts form with the elastic on the top. The were baggy and came down to my knees. Coupled with me socks that I still had on (to keep my feet warm), I was totally in fashion.
I had a very "been there, done that" sort of attitude going into the whole thing. Until he said he would pull me out about halfway through to inject me with something. Say what? There were no needles involved last time. Totally not okay, I HATE needles. Now you're going to stick me in a tube and make me wait 20 minutes to get stabbed and then stick me back in the tube? Not cool, dude. Not cool.
It really did psych me out a little. Last time I just sang along with the crazy loud poundings of the machine. This time, I was trying to sing songs, but I kept having a panicky feeling rise up. I know it's a total mental thing, and I did it before, so I can do it again. But it was much more difficult to stay calm. What's funny is when I was desperately trying to think of songs, the songs that came to mind were songs from when I was a kid. The old Psalty tapes and movies we used to listen to were the songs that came to mind. I think it was God's way of helping me calm down.
Anyway, I made it through without squeezing the panic ball. And best of all, the results were good. The septum is gone, so now we are just back to dealing with the PCOS. Which is what we thought we were dealing with in May. Six months later, we can start trying again.
I swear the machine I was in was bigger...
So we went in for another MRI to see if the doctor had made a mistake on the surgery. Last time, even though I had worn sweatpants, a tshirt, a sports bra, and a hair twisty with no metal, I still had to wear a hospital gown. So this time, I wore normal clothes and didn't worry about it. When I got there, he said because I was wearing jeans, I would have to change. When asked, he said I wouldn't have had to change if I'd worn sweatpants. Apparently different MRI techs have different opinions.
This time I didn't have a gown, I had fancy gauze-ish blue shorts. Basically like the disposable hospital gowns, but sewn into shorts form with the elastic on the top. The were baggy and came down to my knees. Coupled with me socks that I still had on (to keep my feet warm), I was totally in fashion.
I had a very "been there, done that" sort of attitude going into the whole thing. Until he said he would pull me out about halfway through to inject me with something. Say what? There were no needles involved last time. Totally not okay, I HATE needles. Now you're going to stick me in a tube and make me wait 20 minutes to get stabbed and then stick me back in the tube? Not cool, dude. Not cool.
It really did psych me out a little. Last time I just sang along with the crazy loud poundings of the machine. This time, I was trying to sing songs, but I kept having a panicky feeling rise up. I know it's a total mental thing, and I did it before, so I can do it again. But it was much more difficult to stay calm. What's funny is when I was desperately trying to think of songs, the songs that came to mind were songs from when I was a kid. The old Psalty tapes and movies we used to listen to were the songs that came to mind. I think it was God's way of helping me calm down.
Anyway, I made it through without squeezing the panic ball. And best of all, the results were good. The septum is gone, so now we are just back to dealing with the PCOS. Which is what we thought we were dealing with in May. Six months later, we can start trying again.
Monday, November 05, 2012
When the Doctor Says Oops...
Well, he didn't actually say "oops," but he insinuated that there may have been an oops. Last Thursday my fertility doctor called and asked if I had a minute. Being surprised and very curious, I dropped what I was doing. He went on to tell me that he had done a surgery on a woman whose uterus looked similar to mine.
Quick backstory: During the surgery the doctors were surprised at how small the septum looked (they had expected bigger based on the MRI). They spent a while making sure (according to them), but decided that the test they had done first (where they inserted a balloon and then dye to make sure my fallopian tubes were fine) had, for lack of a better word, smooshed the septum making it appear smaller.
On the phone last week, he said the woman's uterus was similar and she had not had the test/balloon. Eventually he found the hole he was looking for, and he is worried that he might have missed it on me because they dismissed the abnormality as a byproduct of the balloon. I think that basically the septum could have been so big that he missed it completely. There might've been a hole at the bottom that lead to the other side of my uterus. If that's the case, the last few months (basically since August) has been a waste and we start over with the surgery.
So he ordered another MRI and we'll see what the change was from the previous MRI. For some reason, he couldn't order the MRI in the Elk Grove facility (he tried to convince me they didn't have a MRI...but I had my first MRI at Big Horn). So we'll have to go up to South Sac, hopefully soon. I played phone tag with the radiology department today. And by phone tag I mean they called once and I tried to call back 3 times. They have very short hours and since the weather is going to be bad on Friday, I've had to move a big school event up a couple of days, leading to a very busy day for me. Hopefully I can catch them in the morning before my kids come in for class.
At first I was having a really hard time. But Stephen reminded me that both surgeons had been in there and looked a lot. And these are very skilled, very experienced specialists who have done this surgery many times. So the chances that both of them missed something is pretty low. Second, based on the MRI, the septum did not appear that large. In order for them to have missed it, it would have to have been huge. Also, God can heal anything, even if the doctors made a mistake. What I want to know is if the doctor missed the septum, what did he cut??
Quick backstory: During the surgery the doctors were surprised at how small the septum looked (they had expected bigger based on the MRI). They spent a while making sure (according to them), but decided that the test they had done first (where they inserted a balloon and then dye to make sure my fallopian tubes were fine) had, for lack of a better word, smooshed the septum making it appear smaller.
On the phone last week, he said the woman's uterus was similar and she had not had the test/balloon. Eventually he found the hole he was looking for, and he is worried that he might have missed it on me because they dismissed the abnormality as a byproduct of the balloon. I think that basically the septum could have been so big that he missed it completely. There might've been a hole at the bottom that lead to the other side of my uterus. If that's the case, the last few months (basically since August) has been a waste and we start over with the surgery.
So he ordered another MRI and we'll see what the change was from the previous MRI. For some reason, he couldn't order the MRI in the Elk Grove facility (he tried to convince me they didn't have a MRI...but I had my first MRI at Big Horn). So we'll have to go up to South Sac, hopefully soon. I played phone tag with the radiology department today. And by phone tag I mean they called once and I tried to call back 3 times. They have very short hours and since the weather is going to be bad on Friday, I've had to move a big school event up a couple of days, leading to a very busy day for me. Hopefully I can catch them in the morning before my kids come in for class.
At first I was having a really hard time. But Stephen reminded me that both surgeons had been in there and looked a lot. And these are very skilled, very experienced specialists who have done this surgery many times. So the chances that both of them missed something is pretty low. Second, based on the MRI, the septum did not appear that large. In order for them to have missed it, it would have to have been huge. Also, God can heal anything, even if the doctors made a mistake. What I want to know is if the doctor missed the septum, what did he cut??
Tuesday, October 02, 2012
Post Surgery Update
I'm alive! Mostly, anyways. I had planned on going back yesterday, but was in too much pain. And I just have no energy whatsoever. The pain is mostly cramping, which will hopefully be decreasing since they removed the balloon this afternoon.
So the surgery itself: We didn't have to be there until 11:30 on Wednesday afternoon, so we slept in. I couldn't eat past midnight, so I was pretty hungry. They called me back into the pre op area and had me change into the beautiful hospital gown. But I did get the pre heated blankets, which is the best part of being in the hospital. I had a really nice nurse at first, and the nurse who did my IV actually got it in on the first try. For the first time in my life. Then my nurse got called somewhere else and the head nurse, I think, took over. She wasn't in scrubs and had a lot of jewelry on, so I think she was covering. She was pretty cold, so I was glad I didn't have to talk to her long.
When the doctor came to talk to us, I asked about the ink test because none of the nurses had it on their paperwork. Apparently he had forgotten that he said he was going to do it. He said we didn't have to do it because obviously one of my fallopian tubes was fine (because I got pregnant). I still wanted to have it done to make sure they were both fine. He went and checked and said the equipment was in the room, so we would be able to do it. The nursing staff seemed a little frustrated because changes were made without it being clear to them what was going on. But I wanted to get the painful test over with.
I don't remember being wheeled back or going under, which is weird. I remember the nurse giving me "happy juice" before wheeling me back. It must've worked a little too well because I don't remember anything after that.
When I woke up Stephen wasn't there, and I remember moaning and shifting because it was hurting so much. The nurse gave me "something for the pain," but it didn't really help. When she asked what number I was at (they ask you to rank your pain 1 to 10), I gave the same number. To which she shortly replied that my heart rate was down and my blood pressure was down, so it had to be better and I needed to quit lying.
She asked if I'd taken Vicodin, which I said yes, and she asked me how often. I stammered a little trying to remember when I'd last taken Vicodin and she got very insistent. It seemed like she thought I was just trying to get more pain medication. Maybe she was afraid I'd taken some before and was trying to keep me awake. She also kept telling me "open your eyes" as if she was frustrated that I kept closing them. For anyone that has come out of anesthesia, keeping your eyes open is not an enticing or easy thing to do.
I couldn't tell you what she looked like because I was still so out of it when we left. Stephen said it was the same head nurse that had covered earlier. I was apparently the very last patient of the day (it was a surgery center) and everyone else, including the nurses in scrubs, had walked out. There was more than one person because I remember them talking about my "posse" in the waiting room (Stephen, my parents, my sister, and Stephen's parents). Stephen said they wouldn't let him back there because I was "having trouble" coming out of the anesthesia. Duh. Who comes out of anesthesia well?
I vaguely remember Stephen helping me get dressed. And the nurse sticking an alcohol pad under my nose to keep me from throwing up. Then we had a very long drive home (the surgery center was in Folsom).
We realized on Thursday that the estrogen patches the doctor had talked about so much weren't on me. I had felt band aids and assumed they were the patches. I don't know who exactly dropped the ball on that one, but it was definitely a mistake. The doctor ordered it, but sent it to the Roseville pharmacy. So Stephen ended up having to sit in the waiting room at the Elk Grove pharmacy waiting for them to fill the prescription. And we had to pay for it. Not that much, but it should've just been part of the post op surgery stuff.
I've pretty much been home ever since. I felt like I was getting better. We went out to dinner on Saturday for my dad's birthday, and I did okay. I haven't been able to eat much, but I wasn't in too much pain. Sunday I laid around my parents house, but still didn't have much energy. By Sunday afternoon I knew I wasn't going to be able to teach the whole day.
Since I had to go do sub plans, I taught my math class. My leadership classes are fine without me for a week, but without having a math teacher, my math class gets behind. I have a great sub, but she's not a math teacher. She does the best she can, which is very good, but it's still hard for the kids.
I ended up having her sub for me today (Tuesday) as well. I already had to take a half day to get the balloon removed, so I figured I might as well just take one more day off and hopefully aid in recovering more quickly. I do feel much better today, but the balloon removal was very unpleasant. The nurse said "I'm not going to lie, it's going to hurt," and she wasn't kidding.
They used a syringe to remove the liquid in the balloon first. Which was similar to getting a pap smear for you ladies reading this. Then he had to reach in with forceps and remove the balloon. Which was very painful. And then my uterus freaked out. The doctor said "and there's the cramp we told you about." No kidding. He stood there and talked to us for a little while, which was a little awkward. When I sat up he asked if I was dizzy, so I think he was stalling to try to let the pain subside a little.
Meanwhile, my uterus was throwing a temper tantrum. I don't blame it with everything I've put it through in the last week. But it has improved and I definitely feel better. Now I just have to wait out all this crazy estrogen. They put patches on me (or they were supposed to) to promote the growth of the lining of the uterus. So I currently have 4 estrogen patches on, which is the equivalent of a month's worth for most women. Plus my own. I am definitely feeling the back pain, headaches, nausea, and emotional roller coastering of a month's worth of hormones all at once. Plus, I'm on amoxycillin (high risk of infection) and 800mg motrin pretty much around the clock. No wonder I'm not feeling well.
We have our post op appointment next week where they'll show us pictures. From what they told Stephen, the septum was not as pronounced as they thought it was. Apparently my uterus is wider than normal and could have been folding in on itself to make the septum seem larger than it actually was. But they removed the septum, although smaller than expected, and did the dye test and everything was normal. The doctor today said they can go in with a scope to see if they successfully removed the septum, or we can just start trying again after two menstrual cycles. If it wasn't successfully removed, what do we do? Surgery. Again. So prayers for a successful healing would still be much appreciated.
Yup, basically
So the surgery itself: We didn't have to be there until 11:30 on Wednesday afternoon, so we slept in. I couldn't eat past midnight, so I was pretty hungry. They called me back into the pre op area and had me change into the beautiful hospital gown. But I did get the pre heated blankets, which is the best part of being in the hospital. I had a really nice nurse at first, and the nurse who did my IV actually got it in on the first try. For the first time in my life. Then my nurse got called somewhere else and the head nurse, I think, took over. She wasn't in scrubs and had a lot of jewelry on, so I think she was covering. She was pretty cold, so I was glad I didn't have to talk to her long.
When the doctor came to talk to us, I asked about the ink test because none of the nurses had it on their paperwork. Apparently he had forgotten that he said he was going to do it. He said we didn't have to do it because obviously one of my fallopian tubes was fine (because I got pregnant). I still wanted to have it done to make sure they were both fine. He went and checked and said the equipment was in the room, so we would be able to do it. The nursing staff seemed a little frustrated because changes were made without it being clear to them what was going on. But I wanted to get the painful test over with.
I don't remember being wheeled back or going under, which is weird. I remember the nurse giving me "happy juice" before wheeling me back. It must've worked a little too well because I don't remember anything after that.
When I woke up Stephen wasn't there, and I remember moaning and shifting because it was hurting so much. The nurse gave me "something for the pain," but it didn't really help. When she asked what number I was at (they ask you to rank your pain 1 to 10), I gave the same number. To which she shortly replied that my heart rate was down and my blood pressure was down, so it had to be better and I needed to quit lying.
She asked if I'd taken Vicodin, which I said yes, and she asked me how often. I stammered a little trying to remember when I'd last taken Vicodin and she got very insistent. It seemed like she thought I was just trying to get more pain medication. Maybe she was afraid I'd taken some before and was trying to keep me awake. She also kept telling me "open your eyes" as if she was frustrated that I kept closing them. For anyone that has come out of anesthesia, keeping your eyes open is not an enticing or easy thing to do.
I couldn't tell you what she looked like because I was still so out of it when we left. Stephen said it was the same head nurse that had covered earlier. I was apparently the very last patient of the day (it was a surgery center) and everyone else, including the nurses in scrubs, had walked out. There was more than one person because I remember them talking about my "posse" in the waiting room (Stephen, my parents, my sister, and Stephen's parents). Stephen said they wouldn't let him back there because I was "having trouble" coming out of the anesthesia. Duh. Who comes out of anesthesia well?
I vaguely remember Stephen helping me get dressed. And the nurse sticking an alcohol pad under my nose to keep me from throwing up. Then we had a very long drive home (the surgery center was in Folsom).
We realized on Thursday that the estrogen patches the doctor had talked about so much weren't on me. I had felt band aids and assumed they were the patches. I don't know who exactly dropped the ball on that one, but it was definitely a mistake. The doctor ordered it, but sent it to the Roseville pharmacy. So Stephen ended up having to sit in the waiting room at the Elk Grove pharmacy waiting for them to fill the prescription. And we had to pay for it. Not that much, but it should've just been part of the post op surgery stuff.
I've pretty much been home ever since. I felt like I was getting better. We went out to dinner on Saturday for my dad's birthday, and I did okay. I haven't been able to eat much, but I wasn't in too much pain. Sunday I laid around my parents house, but still didn't have much energy. By Sunday afternoon I knew I wasn't going to be able to teach the whole day.
Since I had to go do sub plans, I taught my math class. My leadership classes are fine without me for a week, but without having a math teacher, my math class gets behind. I have a great sub, but she's not a math teacher. She does the best she can, which is very good, but it's still hard for the kids.
I ended up having her sub for me today (Tuesday) as well. I already had to take a half day to get the balloon removed, so I figured I might as well just take one more day off and hopefully aid in recovering more quickly. I do feel much better today, but the balloon removal was very unpleasant. The nurse said "I'm not going to lie, it's going to hurt," and she wasn't kidding.
They used a syringe to remove the liquid in the balloon first. Which was similar to getting a pap smear for you ladies reading this. Then he had to reach in with forceps and remove the balloon. Which was very painful. And then my uterus freaked out. The doctor said "and there's the cramp we told you about." No kidding. He stood there and talked to us for a little while, which was a little awkward. When I sat up he asked if I was dizzy, so I think he was stalling to try to let the pain subside a little.
Meanwhile, my uterus was throwing a temper tantrum. I don't blame it with everything I've put it through in the last week. But it has improved and I definitely feel better. Now I just have to wait out all this crazy estrogen. They put patches on me (or they were supposed to) to promote the growth of the lining of the uterus. So I currently have 4 estrogen patches on, which is the equivalent of a month's worth for most women. Plus my own. I am definitely feeling the back pain, headaches, nausea, and emotional roller coastering of a month's worth of hormones all at once. Plus, I'm on amoxycillin (high risk of infection) and 800mg motrin pretty much around the clock. No wonder I'm not feeling well.
We have our post op appointment next week where they'll show us pictures. From what they told Stephen, the septum was not as pronounced as they thought it was. Apparently my uterus is wider than normal and could have been folding in on itself to make the septum seem larger than it actually was. But they removed the septum, although smaller than expected, and did the dye test and everything was normal. The doctor today said they can go in with a scope to see if they successfully removed the septum, or we can just start trying again after two menstrual cycles. If it wasn't successfully removed, what do we do? Surgery. Again. So prayers for a successful healing would still be much appreciated.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Upcoming Surgery
It's been a while since my last blog post. Things have been very busy with school, and especially with activities. I feel slightly more prepared than last year, but still not quite as prepared as I'd hoped. It seems like I'm always just a day ahead, sometimes just a morning ahead. But so far, so good.
My surgery is one week from today and the doctor will be removing the septum in my uterus. The doctors will insert one camera through my belly button and one camera up through the cervix, which will also have the little pair of scissors that will cut away at the septum. They are also going to do the HSG test where they insert dye into my uterus and watch as it goes out the fallopian tubes to make sure there is no blockage. It's a painful test and he said they could just get it out of the way while I was asleep. Sounds good to me!
After the surgery they insert a uteran shaped balloon into my uterus to keep the walls from collapsing on each other and healing together. After a couple of days (I think), the doctor will remove it. I'll also be on antibiotics intravenously through the surgery and then orally afterwards. The biggest risk with the surgery is scar tissue, which could cause infertility.
I took Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off next week, and hopefully I should be back on Monday. It's an outpatient surgery and we should only be in the hospital for a couple of hours. He said once they have me ready to be wheeled back, it will be about an hour and a half before the doctor will go out to get Stephen. Then I have to wake up from the anesthesia, and after that I can go home.
I've been under anesthesia enough times that I'm not worried about that part. Although I do cry every time I come out. But the nurses laugh when I call that a side effect. Last time my heart rate was low and I kept setting off the alarms, but my blood pressure was also low and the nurse said that was ok. Every time I would fall asleep, my heart rate would drop too low and the alarms on the machines I was hooked up to would go off.
We'll have to wait 2 - 3 months after the surgery before we can start trying to have a baby again. At that point the doctor will start the clomid, which will help treat the PCOS, a whole DIFFERENT issue. Statistically, I am definitely an abnormality. Uterine septum? Got it. PCOS? Got it? Vaginal septum? Had it (removed as a teenager, apparently a third unrelated issue). Tuberculosis? Had it. Meningitis? Had it. Scabies? Had it. Undiagnosed for several months because it was "atypical." Erythema nodosum (lumps on the legs)? Had it. Abnormal growth on my mouth? Had it. There was wax from my wisdom tooth removal that did not dissolve like it was supposed to and my body formed a casing around it. All I knew was there was a lump in my cheek. Doctors said we could biopsy it every year or they could just take it out, so they took it out. So like I said, I am a walking statistical anomaly. Just means I'm special, right?
Thursday, August 09, 2012
The Storm Begins to Clear
So I figured it would be good to write a blog post before school officially starts and things get even more busy. Since I haven't written anything since before the D&C, I figured it was time for an update.
I actually don't really remember the D&C itself. It was in Roseville and we had to be there really early (7 I think), so the drive was uneventful. We were among the first people into Kaiser, I think, because it was very empty. We even beat the receptionist by about 5 minutes. They checked us in and Stephen got to stay with me the whole time. (While they put in the IV, checked all my vital signs, etc). We were the only ones back there, so it was pretty fast. The doctor came and talked to us and then they wheeled me back.
I remember them talking to me a little bit, and talking about the patient that was coming after me. The doctor patted my feet every once in a while, which I found strangely comforting. It was like I "I know you're here, you'll be fine" kind of pat. After they gave me the "cocktail" I don't really remember anything. I wasn't actually unconscious, but the drugs have an amnesiac effect and pretty much knock you out. Just not completely. The one thing I do remember is tears running into my ears because I was laying flat on my back. The nurse must've noticed because she wiped away some of them. But I think they were either done or almost done because I don't remember anything else about that moment.
The next thing I remember I was back out in the recovery area and Stephen was there. I guess the doctor came out to get him right away because I was crying. I slept for a while, but the machine I was hooked up to kept beeping because my heart rate was dropping too low. I guess I just have a very slow resting heart rate, especially with the drugs in my system. The nurse said it was okay because my blood pressure is very low, too, so it's not a bad thing.
We left there around 10:30, so the whole process went very quick. We got Arby's on the way home and had to wait for the drive through to open. :-) I laid around for a couple of days, but I think overall I did okay. My family and a couple of good friends checked in a lot, which was a nice reminder that I wasn't alone.
Since then whenever people ask how I am, my answer is usually "good days and bad days." The majority of days are good now, unless something sets me off. I hear a sad song on the radio and can't keep it together. Someone at work is confrontational and I get over emotional. Sometimes it all happens in one day (two weeks ago) and I just come home and cry. I get strangely overwhelmed sometimes, like the first big family thing we went to, or the first time we went back to church. I know I am loved and supported in both places, I wasn't nervous about being there, but I just get really emotional for no reason. It's happening less often, though.
It feels like the major storm is clearing out. Not gone completely, but less central and consuming in my life. I don't know if it will ever be gone completely. My grandpa died in February, so I believe he got to meet our baby before we did. But someday we will meet him or her. Until then, life goes on.
Pre service days start next week and the students come Thursday. I've actually been at school all week trying to get ready. But I'm actually glad to be going back. It will focus me on other things, I have some good leadership students who are excited and happy to be there, and I'm looking forward to my second year as activities director where I feel like I know a little more. A little.
Also new for us is a couple from Ireland, Daniel and Samantha, are renting from us while they get their feet under them in the U.S. Daniel is actually originally from Sweden and Samantha is from New Jersey/St. Louis, but they've been living in Ireland for 6 years. Daniel works for Apple and worked with Stephen. I met him when we went in March 2011, but only briefly at a large table with a lot of Apple people (I mentioned the dinner here). Daniel decided to transfer from the Cork Apple to the Elk Grove Apple, and were looking for a place to live. Hotels are really expensive, and apartments rarely come furnished and are hard to decide on without seeing. We said they could rent from us since we have a furnished room and extra bathroom.
One of the first things we did was go to IKEA, which is a Swedish company. You know all those Swedish names they have for every item in IKEA? Well the really are Swedish, but not all make sense. Some are no brainers, like the sewing machine name means "sew." But there was a braided basket whose name meant "snip." And some of the names are just cities. We decided someone in Sweden sits behind a desk and just laughs as they decide on names. It was quite entertaining to walk through IKEA with a native Swedish speaker, who pointed out some of the more interesting names.
And that Swedish market they have after the registers is truly a Swedish market. Daniel was very excited to find a certain cheese that is not found anywhere else. Apparently IKEA used to carry actual Swedish brands of things, but now they are making their own. But it's still good, at least according to Daniel and Samantha.
They flew into Elk Grove around 11:00pm last Saturday, so between that and starting school, life has been busy. It's a welcome distraction.
So how am I doing? Good days and bad days, but more good than bad.
I actually don't really remember the D&C itself. It was in Roseville and we had to be there really early (7 I think), so the drive was uneventful. We were among the first people into Kaiser, I think, because it was very empty. We even beat the receptionist by about 5 minutes. They checked us in and Stephen got to stay with me the whole time. (While they put in the IV, checked all my vital signs, etc). We were the only ones back there, so it was pretty fast. The doctor came and talked to us and then they wheeled me back.
I remember them talking to me a little bit, and talking about the patient that was coming after me. The doctor patted my feet every once in a while, which I found strangely comforting. It was like I "I know you're here, you'll be fine" kind of pat. After they gave me the "cocktail" I don't really remember anything. I wasn't actually unconscious, but the drugs have an amnesiac effect and pretty much knock you out. Just not completely. The one thing I do remember is tears running into my ears because I was laying flat on my back. The nurse must've noticed because she wiped away some of them. But I think they were either done or almost done because I don't remember anything else about that moment.
The next thing I remember I was back out in the recovery area and Stephen was there. I guess the doctor came out to get him right away because I was crying. I slept for a while, but the machine I was hooked up to kept beeping because my heart rate was dropping too low. I guess I just have a very slow resting heart rate, especially with the drugs in my system. The nurse said it was okay because my blood pressure is very low, too, so it's not a bad thing.
We left there around 10:30, so the whole process went very quick. We got Arby's on the way home and had to wait for the drive through to open. :-) I laid around for a couple of days, but I think overall I did okay. My family and a couple of good friends checked in a lot, which was a nice reminder that I wasn't alone.
Since then whenever people ask how I am, my answer is usually "good days and bad days." The majority of days are good now, unless something sets me off. I hear a sad song on the radio and can't keep it together. Someone at work is confrontational and I get over emotional. Sometimes it all happens in one day (two weeks ago) and I just come home and cry. I get strangely overwhelmed sometimes, like the first big family thing we went to, or the first time we went back to church. I know I am loved and supported in both places, I wasn't nervous about being there, but I just get really emotional for no reason. It's happening less often, though.
It feels like the major storm is clearing out. Not gone completely, but less central and consuming in my life. I don't know if it will ever be gone completely. My grandpa died in February, so I believe he got to meet our baby before we did. But someday we will meet him or her. Until then, life goes on.
Also new for us is a couple from Ireland, Daniel and Samantha, are renting from us while they get their feet under them in the U.S. Daniel is actually originally from Sweden and Samantha is from New Jersey/St. Louis, but they've been living in Ireland for 6 years. Daniel works for Apple and worked with Stephen. I met him when we went in March 2011, but only briefly at a large table with a lot of Apple people (I mentioned the dinner here). Daniel decided to transfer from the Cork Apple to the Elk Grove Apple, and were looking for a place to live. Hotels are really expensive, and apartments rarely come furnished and are hard to decide on without seeing. We said they could rent from us since we have a furnished room and extra bathroom.
One of the first things we did was go to IKEA, which is a Swedish company. You know all those Swedish names they have for every item in IKEA? Well the really are Swedish, but not all make sense. Some are no brainers, like the sewing machine name means "sew." But there was a braided basket whose name meant "snip." And some of the names are just cities. We decided someone in Sweden sits behind a desk and just laughs as they decide on names. It was quite entertaining to walk through IKEA with a native Swedish speaker, who pointed out some of the more interesting names.
And that Swedish market they have after the registers is truly a Swedish market. Daniel was very excited to find a certain cheese that is not found anywhere else. Apparently IKEA used to carry actual Swedish brands of things, but now they are making their own. But it's still good, at least according to Daniel and Samantha.
They flew into Elk Grove around 11:00pm last Saturday, so between that and starting school, life has been busy. It's a welcome distraction.
So how am I doing? Good days and bad days, but more good than bad.
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