Taking it day by day.

I've stared at my computer screen for a good ten minutes, not even sure where to begin.
*Also, if you're weak at the talk of blood or related things, I would avoid reading this post.

I don't know how to explain to you how the past 72 hours has effected me. As strange as it sounds,  I compare the aftermath to a tornado, or something equally traumatic. I feel as if I need to be debriefed concerning what happened to me on Monday night.  I need a process of healing, but how would I go about doing that when I didn't technically lose my baby?

I had passed another small clot last Thursday. I toyed with ignoring it, especially since my last one hadn't resulted in a miscarriage. But on Monday morning, I finally decided to call my ob and ask their input. They told me to go ahead and come in for an ultrasound. I did, and lil baby was right there, 170 bpm and snuggled inside of me.

 To make up for the time that I was gone from work, I went back to work and stayed late. On my ride home sometime after 5:30, I felt what can only be described as pressure in my uterus. Before I knew it, I felt a release. I looked down, realizing I was bleeding through my pants. I have never been more scared in my life. I made a u-turn, rushing home from my original destination (I was going to stop by the bank). I came inside, ripped off my pants, and suddenly...clots and blood started literally pouring out of me and down my legs. I can't describe to you how helpless I felt. Even thinking about it now makes me want to cry. At the time, I thought for sure I was miscarrying. How could I have so much blood and still have a baby? And what I hated about this was that I couldn't stop the clots from coming. I could stop anything from coming out of me. I couldn't catch my baby and put it back inside, if that's what was happening. I passed four or five of them (significantly large, at least golf ball size) while I was frantically trying to clean myself up. Blood was everywhere; it looked like a gruesome murder scene at times. I finally had sense enough to spread a towel on my bed and lay on my back. I was still bleeding, but this stopped the majority of it.

I just kept thinking to myself "I lost it. I lost my baby. I just had a beautiful ultrasound, and now it's gone."  I called the operator at my OB office in a frenzy, and she put me in touch with the on-call doctor. He basically told me if the bleeding didn't stop, I should go to the ER. But, if I could wait, they would see me first thing in the morning. He also reassured, although cautiously, that because I'd had an ultrasound just four hours before, the odds were in my favor of the baby being okay. I battled with what to do, and finally Wesley called my mother in law and she took me to the ER. There, I met a nurse that I can only describe as an angel. Literally. My name was called to be checked in, and she sat one on one with me. She asked me some questions, about the bleeding, how far along I was, and things like that. She explained she'd been through a miscarriage before. I mentioned that (as gross as it is) I'd caught what I was passing in a ziploc bag, because I'd read online that this might help the doctor figure out what's going on. Without a second thought, she asked to see it, and examined the bag. She told me, quite confidently, that she didn't see a fetus or tissue inside of it. She explained that this much bleeding wasn't good, but she didn't believe I was miscarrying. I was cautiously relieved, and she explained that the ER had at least a four hour wait. She said she would suggest me going home and propping my feet up, and coming back at midnight. Then she gave me the number to her direct line, and told me to call if I needed anything. I don't know how to explain how much I needed her, a complete stranger, at that time. Her approach was warm and endearing, and it was exactly the medicine and strength I needed to go home and sleep. I woke up at around 2am, and didn't go back to sleep until 4:30. The bleeding by then had slowed to just spotting, and I was slightly relieved.

The next morning I went in, and the doctor examined my cervix to see if it was still closed. He didn't tell me either way. He just explained he'd talk to me after the ultrasound was over with. I went into the ultrasound room, realizing it was the same tech I'd had the first time I thought I'd lost the baby. She asked me quietly if I'd like the t.v. turned on, and I said yes. My stomach did a flip as I wondered if I'd regret that answer. She placed the instrument on my stomach, and before I knew it, there was my baby. My breath caught, as I didn't immediately see the heartbeat. But soon, there it was, beating 167 bpm, measuring at 9 weeks, 6 days.

 The tech laughed, saying it was hard to get a measurement because the lil bit was curled inside of the womb. She said "if you can imagine, it's like it has its little chin tucked against its chest." I majorly reacted to that, letting out a lot of "awwww, how cutes!" and things like that. Then, towards the end of her pressing down on my stomach and trying to get the reading...I saw lil bit move for the first time. It was the sweetest, most amazing thing I've ever seen. Its little bud arms moved around, its body wiggling up and down. Again, I oohed and awwwed over this phenomenon. The tech said "It's saying "quit poking me! I'm trying to sleep!" which only made my heart burst more. Little bit is comfortable, inside of me. It's hanging on, snuggled inside, as if to say to all of us outside of me that we are just crazy to think it's going anywhere :p

The Dr. explained I am still diagnosed with a threatened miscarriage. He also explained there is some more fluid gathered outside of the gestational sac that could cause future bleeding. He basically explained bed rest doesn't really help, because if it (miscarriage) is going to happen, it's going to happen regardless of that. I'm still not sure how I feel about this advice, but I'm trusting that God has placed the right people in my path. The problem with having to go in so often is I've seen a different doctor nearly every other time. He signed a work excuse for that day and told me to go home and rest, but I could return to work the next day. I rented four Redboxes, and literally did nothing but lay in my bed all day long.

The trauma and pain of what happened didn't really hit me until last night. I called Wesley and basically had to literally process through everything. That was hands down the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to me, and I didn't realize how much it effected me until I felt myself wanting to fall apart at the end of yesterday. It instilled this fear inside of me; fear of bleeding out again, fear of losing the baby. It didn't help that the weekend before, I'd nonchalantly been watching birthing videos on Youtube and came across some stillborn videos. I watched a few of them, and I believe it's contributing to this out of control fear that transpired from my bleeding. He reminded me that I have to put my faith and trust in God, and not be fearful of what might happen. It was a tough lesson to swallow, but he was right. I will worry myself sick if I keep thinking about all the ridiculous things that could happen. I'm a Google junkie, and researching subchorionic hemorrhage doesn't completely comfort. If the fluid is a clot, then it has the potential to grow, and cause a miscarriage (even after the first trimester) if it breaks apart. A clot can literally push your baby out of the gestational sac and tear the placenta. It can also cause preeclampsia and preterm labor, as well as separation of the placenta from the uterus. Ugh. So. Many. Worries. So. Many. Fears.

“It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man.” 

-Psalm 118:8