Survival Stories, Milestones, and Realizations

So, we did it. We went camping and survived.

Caden did not wander off into the woods and get lost. He did not fall into the fire. He went eight days with no bath (and a mother repeatedly coaxing him into her lap to clean off as much of the grime as she could with baby wipes), and lived to tell the tale. (For the record, I think the dirt is permanently imbedded in his toenails.) He caught lots of bugs, slept in a "big boy bed" in the trailer, and ate more S'mores than I like to admit.

The dogs survived without getting eaten by a bear or kicked by a bull (at one point we camped in the national forest very near a large herd of cows).

Scott managed to squeeze in a little relaxation time while being the sole working member of our party. He set up and broke down camp, prepared and served meals, went on "hikes" and bike rides with Caden (the hikes always ended up being shoulder rides), cleaned up the dishes and the trailer, and drove the suburban whenever we needed to get somewhere.



I sat in a camp chair with my feet up and stayed pregnant.

I can't say I wasn't anxious during this trip. In past years it has felt liberating to have no cellphone reception--to be so far away from the rest of the world. This time, when the signal bars disappeared, I felt like I was without a safety net.

I also realized during this trip that a great deal of the joy I have while camping comes from the tasks I perform: I like coming up with creative outdoor meals to fix. I like setting up camp. I like hiking. It felt very strange to be a bystander during those activities.

However, all fears and disappointments aside, it was great to be out of the house, in the woods, and with my family. We haven't had time with just the three of us for quite a while, and it was really wonderful that we were able to get away.

Remember in my previous post where I mentioned that Caden was throwing terrible temper tantrums and was showing moments of extreme defiance and disobedience? Well, the temper tantrums have lessened significantly, and while he still has his disobedient moments (I had to call Poison Control two days ago because I caught him eating toothpaste. He was fine--just a slightly upset tummy), he is much more obedient and seems to test us less. I think he just needed to be with Mommy and Daddy and for things to be as normal as possible for a little while. He's still very two, but he's more like the boy he was before I was hospitalized and put on bedrest.

While we were camping I passed a very significant (to me) milestone in this pregnancy: 22 weeks and 4 days. That's the gestational age at which our little Isobel Grace was born. I subscribe to a Web site that sends me email updates with information about how the baby is developing. But at 22 weeks I don't need to see the updates--I know exactly what a 22-week baby can and can't do. A 22-week baby can survive outside of the womb, but it is unlikely and is not without long-term medical consequences. A 22-week baby can breathe--but not for long without help. A 22-week baby can feel her mama touch her chest, and will move in response. My 22-week baby was just over one pound and was 11 inches long. For someone less who was less than than a foot long, she occupies a lot of space in my heart. And for someone so tiny, her absence in our life is weighty.

Passing the 22 weeks and 4 days milestone is significant to me, because each day that goes by after this day in my pregnancy is a day where lungs can develop, a heart can strengthen, and the baby can grow bigger. Each fraction of an ounce this baby gains is one step closer to being able to survive. Like I have said before, we are being bold: We are praying that this baby makes it to 36 weeks safe and sound, and right now there is no reason to believe this will not be the case. Praise Jesus.

I had an appointment yesterday, and I was curious to see how things were going with the baby after our camping trip and after my significant milestone. Turns out I needn't have worried. My fluid level is perfect, the baby is growing right on schedule, my blood pressure is great. The doctor joked that if everything continues along these lines, he'll have to call me normal. I told him I thought that would be very weird.

But despite the fact that everything is going so well, the truth is, I will never have a "normal" pregnancy. I will always have some sort of restrictions that are necessary for me to carry a baby to term, and quite frankly that's disappointing.

I have taken up a bit more activity since my doctor lessened my restrictions, and I can tell when it has been too much. And it doesn't take a whole lot for it to be too much.

I've been getting up with Caden in the mornings. If I lower the crib rail, he can climb out with just my hand to steady him, and I don't have to lift him (which I will be unable to do until November). Then he and I have cereal together (pretty much the only meal I can fix right now) on the back porch. Scott then has to bathe him and get him dressed.

I have discovered that I can coerce Caden to climb into my lap to have his diaper changed if I offer him an M&M, but the getting up and down to get the diaper and wipes, then to wash my hands and retrieve the promised M&M does take its toll.

If Caden is barricaded in the living room, I can sit in my recliner and supervise, but he has figured out how to open the bathroom door and get into mischief (hence the toothpaste incident).

I had been optimistic about taking on more with Caden, but two days ago I had to come to the realization that I can really only care for him on my own for two hours a day max. Anything past that and I start having contractions and have to lie down. All pregnant women have what are called Braxton-Hicks contractions. These are painless contractions that basically prepare the uterus for giving birth. For most women, these are very common and nothing to be concerned about. But my body responds a little differently. For some reason we don't understand, Braxton-Hicks contractions cause me to dilate and go into preterm labor. So anytime I feel these, I have to take them seriously.

But what do I do when I'm having contractions and Caden is climbing up the side of the bookshelf? I know this is a little overly dramatic, but whose life do I protect? The baby inside of me? Or the little monkey shimmying toward inevitable disaster?

I can take on a little more than before. And I am taking advantage of that by spending as much time with Caden as possible, but I can't do it all and still do what I need to do for this baby in my belly. As much as it pains me to say it, I need help. And with Scott heading back to work tomorrow, the need for help has become more pressing.

Please, look at our care calendar. If you can spare an hour or two to take Caden to the park, or help me get him down for his nap, or if you want to have him come play at your house for a bit, we would be so grateful.

It's hard for me to ask for help, but three days ago I had such bad contractions after doing too much with Caden that I couldn't do anything but lie on the couch for hours afterwards. It was an uncomfortable realization for me. I want to be able to do it all, and I just physically can't.

If you can't help with Caden care, we are still desperate for your prayers. We know that the miraculous healing of my amniotic sac came about due to your intercessions on our behalf, and we still have 13 weeks to go before we hit that 36 week milestone.

Thank you for all you have done and all you are doing for us. God bless you.

Free at last! (Well, sort of...)

We had an appointment with my regular OB on Thursday, and she gave us some really good news: My fluid was at 16!!!!!! (As a writer, it generally pains me to use such an overabundance of exclamation points, but I felt this situation merited it.) 

The baby's heart rate was wonderful, and he or she has been kicking like a champ--it won't be long before Scott will be able to feel him or her move. We are still determined to be surprised by whether the baby is a boy or a girl. We thought our nurse practitioner might have spoiled it because she referred to the baby by a specific gender pronoun, but she insisted that she has no idea and had just randomly picked a gender to refer to the baby. We love her, so we'll trust her on this one. 

I had my third anti-jka antibody blood draw on Thursday as well, and we should hear those results next week sometime. Because of how low they were last time, we don't anticipate that they'll have spiked for this test, but we won't know for sure until we receive the results.

I had an appointment with my cardiologist on Friday for an ekg and general exam, and everything looks great with my heart as well. I'll have an echocardiogram in two weeks to double check, but I'm sure everything will be fine. Because of the heart problems I had after Caden was born my cardiologist wants to monitor me monthly to be on the safe side. This adds up to a lot of doctors appointments, but I'm more than willing if the end result is a healthy take-home baby. 

The punch line of this list of good news is that my OB has lightened some of my restrictions. In her words: "You are doing so well that there's no need to torture you for the rest of your pregnancy just because I want to be cautious." 

I still can't chase Caden or pick him up, I'm not allowed to drive, I've been specifically instructed to refrain from all housework, and I'm supposed to remain seated or reclined as much as possible. But I have been given permission to have a little bit more activity as long as I'm not having contractions. This means I can leave my house more frequently, and most importantly, we can actually go on a small vacation. Scott's going to pack up our trailer, and we're going to head for the hills. We won't go too far from Colorado Springs--if there's an emergency I want to be able to get back to my doctors. I trust them and I love them, and if anything happens I want them driving the bus. If we get out there and it's too stressful for Scott to be wrangling a little boy and two wacky dogs without my help, or if I'm having any signs that the trip is affecting my health or the baby's health, we'll turn around and come home. But the possibility of a small escape feels heavenly.

So, without further ado, we'll be taking off in the next couple of days. Scott has updated the care calendar from August all the way through October, and if you can help at all during that time we would so much appreciate it. 

We love you all, and we thank you for your prayers, your care, and your help. We'll see you when we get back!  

20 Weeks!

Yesterday I passed the 20 week mark of pregnancy. Officially I'm now halfway there! (Though everyone would be mighty surprised if I made it to 40 weeks.)

I had a doctor's appointment today, and things continue to look really great. Fluid was 12.7 cm, the baby is right on track developmentally (in fact, our little bug is slightly big for his/her gestation--no surprise), and my health is looking good as well. And today the doctor actually used the word "reseal!" The doctors are going to continue to monitor me closely until I hit the 24 week mark, and this is for two reasons: First, for our peace of mind. Second, from a physiological standpoint the scar tissue that forms on the amniotic sac will be at its strongest 10-12 weeks from the date of rupture. After the 24 week mark, if everything still appears to be going well, I'll be treated as a "normal" high-risk cerclage patient.  

We got some photos of our little sweetheart today that took my breath away. They weren't able to make a disc for us this time, and this is a photo of a photo and not the highest quality, so I hope you can see what we saw. I wept when this image appeared on the screen--this baby looks just like his/her sister, Isobel.

What a sweet little blessing.

Two hours!

I had a great appointment today. We had our regular AFI ultrasound, and the fluid was 12.9 cm, which is incredible! Then they did an exam to see if they could tell if I was still leaking amniotic fluid. The doctor checked very closely, did a ph test, looked at a slide under a microscope, and didn't see any fluid at all. This is such awesome news. I just kept saying, "thank you, Jesus," over and over.

No one used the word "reseal" during the appointment, but I can't imagine any other way we would have seen these results. Thank you, Jesus. The doctor doesn't want us to take any risks, so I'm still on bedrest, but no longer complete bedrest. (This is as long as things remain stable and I'm not contracting.)

I'm now allowed to be up a total of two hours each day. These are not consecutive hours--this is a daily total. But it means I'm no longer dependent upon other people to bring me food, and it means if Caden is a stinker and throws my book across the room, I can go get it without asking for help. Obviously, I still need to spend the majority of my day reclined, I'm not allowed to do anything active (including housework), and I will not be able to pick up Caden until after the baby is born, but two hours feels like a huge reprieve. This morning I was able to walk from my doctors' office to the valet parking instead of getting a wheelchair.

We still have several weeks to go, so please continue to pray for us. But in the meantime, know your prayers are being heard and answered. We thank you for lifting us up.  

Happy Anniversary

Four years ago today I married the man of my dreams.

If I had been asked to list the qualities that were important to me in a partner, Scott would have met them all: He is slightly serious, which I need to balance out my flakiness, but he also has a silly side I appreciate. He enjoys camping and the outdoors. He loves good quality food, and he enjoys the theater. (Not musical theater, which I have to admit is a serious character flaw.) He loves food from different cultures--especially sushi and Indian food. He has a kind heart, and he loves children and animals. And most importantly, he loves the Lord.

I knew he was the man God had chosen for me.

Little did we know as we stood in front of our loved ones and recited our vows that "for worse" would come much sooner than we expected. We lost a daughter, a sister, a cousin, and a grandfather all within a short of amount of time, and our already bruised hearts were further hammered with each painful loss.

In the midst of this grief, I can't say that we did things perfectly. We haven't always treated one another the way we should. We haven't always cared for one another the way we should. But despite this, we've always clung to one another and clung to the Lord. I could not have weathered the storms of the past years without Scott by my side. I need him, and I am so grateful he is mine.

Happy Anniversary, Scott. I love you.