The First Step

After we arrived home we quickly settled into a routine that involved me laying in bed and the hubs doing everything around the house.  To some it might sound like a vacation but to me it was torture.  I am ALWAYS busy with something but for the time being the Lord had called me to rest.

Christmas came and went with little fanfare, our tree came down two days later.  I think at that point it was just too much to try and deal with on top of everything else.  We were all ready for some type of normalcy to return and even something as simple as rearranging our furniture provided moments of peace in a whirlwind of emotion. 

At our follow-up appointment our doctor once again reiterated the fact that we would have lost this precious little one if we had not placed the cerclage.  My CL (cervix length) before the procedure was 1.8cm with anything under a 2 being considered a high risk situation.  As he placed the ultrasound wand on my stomach my eyes remained glued to the screen watching the cursor and waiting for the ever important measurement.  4.71cm seemed almost magical and I finally released the breath I didn't know I was holding.  Perhaps, this ride wasn't going to be so bad after all was my first thought, and then he opened his mouth to speak.

"You work don't you?"  "Well, yes I teach full-time."  "Not anymore."  My blank stare must have finally jogged something within in him because he looked at me almost apologetically and said "I really want you down.  You may use the restroom, take a shower, make a sandwich if need be, but other than that, down, until you hit 34wks." 

Inside I was screaming, but outwardly I just nodded.  I was shutting down, unable to cope, incapable of processing the fact that I would be on SBR (strict bed rest) for 13 weeks.  There is a dream like quality that existed when I look back at that day, almost as though I was walking in a fog, one that allowed me to see the edges but not the details. 

The hubs and I grabbed a quick bite to eat and he tried to make small talk but we both knew that the elephant in the room had to be addressed.  Looking back I can clearly see God's hand at work in those minutes and every one before.  "If they let me teach online than I will be ok," I told him.  It was a glimmer, a spark of hope, something that would require me to have a set schedule and that would also allow for interaction with the outside world on a daily basis.  "Do you think that they will let you?"  "I won't know until I ask." And with that the texts were sent and the waiting began. 

That moment, though short and seemingly inconsequential in the scheme of things acted as a turning point.  The fog began to dissipate and I was finally able to see that my time spent at rest was time that I still had control over.  It was time that could be spent productively or wallowing in self-pity, the choice was mine.  The paths were laid out before me I just had to take the first step. 

The Game of LIFE

Little did we know that hours later when we heard our nurse paged to the phones it was to talk with our doctor.  Fifteen minutes passed before she came in amazed and a bit bewildered.  When the words "He is sending you home" came out of her mouth I wasn't sure whether I should squeal or cry.  Obviously going home was the end goal of all of this but when so much is hinging on a part of your body that you can't see or feel make changes, there is a certain amount of reassurance that comes from being in the hospital setting.

The hubs and I just looked at one another and started laughing at the irony of it all.  The poor man had come prepared for us to stay for days and not four hours later we were repacking everything he had just hauled up to our room.  Even though we were excited to be heading home we both knew that the next few weeks were going to be very different for our family.  It wasn't until our nurse walked in with discharge papers that we found out just how much different it would really be. 

Bed rest...may be up for meals...may get up to use the bathroom...quick showers...lay on left side preferably...stay off of back...schedule follow up for the 26th.  Her voice faded in and out as I processed what this meant for our extremely active family.  We were fully expecting that I would have to take it easy but complete bed rest?  I felt like I was playing the game of LIFE and I had just drawn one of the miss a turn cards. 

"Oh dear Lord, how will the girls react, how will I teach, the hubs is on shift work how am I going to handle a 7 and a 4 year old while he is at work?"  My list of questions was mounting and my insides were starting to twist as internally I began breaking down, the calm fleeing once agian.  The stress must have been evident on my face because seconds later the hubs reached over, took my hand, and just squeezed.  It was a silent signal, a code per say, "We've got this..."

As they wheeled me down and the hubs helped me in to the car silence prevailed.  I just couldn't quite comprehend how much our lives had changed in the span of three short days.  We caught the interstate to head home and I curled up in the passenger seat looking longingly at the cars filled with what seemed to be happy, healthy families whose only concern was finishing up all the loose ends of Christmas. 

We drove for miles it seemed before the hubs broke the silence.  As he placed his hand on my leg his gentle "Hey" was enough to make me  pull me away from the window and shift in my seat to see his face.  "I've got you and we've still got her, we will make everything else work, " and you know what?  He was right. 

The Wrong Place

 

After the procedure I was taken back to triage where they started a mag drip to counteract any contractions the placement may have caused.  At this point we weren't really sure what to expect but after finally being transferred to a room our nurse (who just happened to LOVE Gilmore Girls so we know that she was awesome) informed us that our doctor wanted me in L&D for at least 24hrs but more than likely it would end up being more. 

I should explain a bit about our doctor I guess.  He is probably in his early sixties and is an old Army doc with absolutely no bed side manner.  BUT he truly cares and it is very cautious in his approach.  With everything we went through with MG I would much rather have someone who will tell me how it is than someone who will hold my hand and fill me full of fluff.  (I have the hubs to do that lol!)

Anyway, the worst part of the whole ordeal hands down was the catheter.  Getting comfortable was impossible and sleep, which is what they wanted me to do just wasn't happening.  I finally had to ask for meds just to help keep my mind off it.  I felt like a total wimp but at that point it was either meds or rip it out.  I took what most would consider the lesser of the two.

We really struggled with what to do next.  The hubs felt so torn, he wanted to be with me yet we both knew we had two little girls at home that were confused and needed their daddy so home he went.  Being there by myself wasn't ideal but I was armed with two seasons of Gilmore Girls, Netflix, Sweettarts, and Cheez-Its so really, what more could I ask for? 

After a fitful night and a stellar breakfast of cold cereal and yogurt (I tried the "real" food the day before, let's just say I am not sure how real it was) the hubs arrived with everything we thought that we would need for our 3-4 day stay.  At this point the nurses were even discussing the possibility of me being there for Christmas.  That didn't exactly go over well but I was still contracting 3-4 times a hour and they just didn't see him releasing me anytime soon.

I tried to cling to the calm that I had felt in the OR but I was floundering as I imagined not being there when the girls woke up on Christmas morning.  I remember feeling SO devastated yet as I look back I can see God's hand in every step.  Funny how sometimes it takes simply pushing through the pain to be able to see the beauty on the other side. 

The admin came in with our admittance paperwork, the hubs signed my releases, paid my copay, and then just sat in silence as we both processed how very different the next 16wks were going to look.  After some time he reached out his hand and as I placed mine in his he looked me straight in the eye and said "It's going to be ok."   As long as I live I will never forget that moment.  It was me and him against the world doing whatever we needed to do to make sure our little girl got the best shot possible. 

I thank God for that man and that moment as it made me realize I was not alone and hadn't ever been.  I was just looking in the wrong place. 

The Unexpected Journey

I should begin by saying that nothing that I/we have ever done would be considered "normal" for some reason we always tend to be the one in a million which, as you can imagine has its ups and downs.  When the hubs and I found out that we were expecting #3 we were thrilled.  Granted it was in a kind of "Oh crud what are we going to do about A, B, and C" since the timing was a bit off from what we had discussed but nevertheless we were excited about adding another little one to the bunch. 

We knew that I would be considered high risk due to my past history but the 17p shots aren't horrid and we felt like we had traveled the road before so what was another trip.  Should have known better than to assume it would be the same.  Shortly after we found out that little bitty #3 was another precious girl I began experiencing what most books and websites would consider typical symptoms, but with my experience that just isn't ever the case.

After a call to the office, an hour and a half drive and a 15 minute visit we were faced with a new diagnosis and scheduled for an emergent cerclage at dark thirty the next morning.  That night was a struggle to say the least, my emotions would run the gamut from one extreme to the next within minutes and my poor husband just sat back and watched.  It's hard to explain to someone that hasn't experienced the same.  It's almost as though I was working through the 7 stages of grief, I was already struggling with what we had to do to bring a healthy child into this world and now this?   Even for me, someone who wasn't expecting a "perfect" pregnancy I certainly wasn't expecting what took place. 

We left for the house at 2:30am the following morning, arrived at the hospital by 4, and was I was in the OR by 5:45.  The only way to describe the entire procedure is as a God thing.  The OR was unbelievably cold and for me, someone who is cold natured anyway it was miserable.  As I sat on the operating table waiting for them to place the spinal I tried and tried and tried to bring portions of James to mind.  (I participated in the Beth Moore study last April and have large amounts committed to memory...or so I thought.)  No matter how hard I tried though it just wouldn't come but something else did.  If you have never heard Louie Giglio's Star Mash Up its worth the 14mins of your life.  Over and over this began to play in my mind, as they laid me back, as the doctor suited up, as the surgery started it remained in the background.  When two minutes later my doctor said "You are open (dilated)" the Lord graciously made it louder, drowning out everything else in the room until the procedure was complete. 

Our doctor later told the hubs that we would have lost our little girl within a week if we had not gone into the office that day.  That next week?  Was Christmas.  I was immediately overwhelmed by God's goodness and provision in spite of my crappy attitude.

And that was the beginning of this unexpected journey, the twists and turns have been many but God is faithful, so in Him I will rest...