|
|
|
|
|
|
Welcome to Real Stories
of
The Bed Rest Experience
|
|
Michele's Story
Having no pregnancy problems with Sarah-Marie, who is now 8 years. old, I didn't
think anything of it when I found out I was pregnant with Noah, who is 4 now. I
went to all my check ups, ate good and got moderate exercise. But, having a 3
year. old little girl to look after, there were times that I didn't get my alone
time to rest. Plus, she always wanted to be held and be close to me while I was
pregnant.
I didn't find out I had Placenta Previa until 3 months into my
pregnancy. I was told by my OB/GYN that I had to "take it easy". Very hard
when you have a toddler running around. But with the help of my Mom and in-laws,
we were well taken care of.
I had spotting off and on through out my
pregnancy. Very light. It usually started first thing in the morning when I
would first get up. I would call my doctor and she would have me come in to be
monitored for a while and she would send me home, telling me to stay in
bed.
In February, 5 months pregnant, I had more spotting and I called my
doctor. I was told to go to the hospital instead of my doctors office. I
called my father in-law who picked us (my daughter and me) and took us to the
hospital.
After being examined and monitored for several hours, I was
told that I would not be going home. Of course, that is when I started to freak
out and my blood pressure shot up. My father in law called Mike, my husband,
and told him to get to the hospital. They had me in a private room and started
to counsel me on early delivery by C-section. What it would be like. What
would happen to the baby. What to expect when he was in the NICU. That is, if
he survived the delivery.
But, I guess, while trying to absorb everything
going on and trying to pray that my little Noah survived, I am still freaking
out, crying, yelling, accusing. It was a wonder the nurses did not sedate
me.
They did get my bleeding under control. I was not leaving the
hospital until I had Noah though. My doctor wanted me to stay pregnant as long
as possible. I was moved to another room, still private, but much nicer and
much larger.
Mike and Sarah-Marie were troopers I must admit. Through
my crying jags, they would try to cheer me up, but it was so hard on me
emotionally. I just couldn't understand why I couldn't go home and get bed rest
there. My mom moved into my house to take care of my family (that was my
job!). Mike has to get up at AM for work everyday, so my mom would sleep at my
house and take care of Sarah-Marie and get her ready for preschool and get ready
for work and then drop Sarah-Marie off at my in-laws. My in-laws would take
Sarah-Marie to preschool and pick her up and then they would come and visit me
for a while. When Mike got off of work, he would go home, get cleaned up and he
and Sarah-Marie would come to the hospital and have dinner with me. But it was
so hard. I wasn't allowed to hold my little girl. I couldn't sleep next to my
husband. I couldn't walk around my room. I had to be in a wheel chair. I had
to take a shower sitting down with a plastic bag over my left hand where the
nurses put a hep-lock in, in case I needed meds or an IV quickly. The
hospital food was terrible. Mike used to sneak in food for me all the
time.
So, all this time, 59 days, to be exact, I am trying my best to
listen to my doctor and try to stay pregnant for as long as possible, and I am
miserable. Crying all the time, begging my doctor to let me go home. Telling
her that I will stay in bed not move around and besides, I am only 15 minutes
away from the hospital. But she just said no, that the condition I had was very
dangerous and I could bleed to death and lose my baby too. It got so bad with
the crying and all that I started to beg my husband not to come and visit me and
to not bring our daughter with him, that it was just too much for me to handle.
My OB/GYN decided that I needed to talk to someone and I started to have
a psychologist come to see me everyday for a week. Between the both of
them (the doctors), it was decided that I needed meds. Of course, my first
questions was, what will it do to the baby? But they assured me that it would
be the lowest does possible and it would not harm him. So that is when I
started to take Zoloft. It did help some. My crying jags started to diminish
and I started to smile again. So that was a good thing.
I was going on
43 days in the hospital with no spotting. Bed rest does work if you listen,
huh? The doctors were talking about maybe letting me go home, but I would have
to have absolutely no movement. Strict bed rest. That made me very happy. But
then on the day I was to go home, I started to spot again. Still stuck in the
hospital. YUCK!
So I resigned myself to take the Zoloft and stay in
the hospital. On April 14, exactly 2 months before my due date, I had a normal
day of blood tests, breakfast, a nap, TV watching, lunch and then another nap.
I rolled over in my wonderfully uncomfortable hospital bed, got a sharp pain in
my belly and started to hemmorhage. Very scary. Calling my husband crying,
telling him to get to the hospital right away. Having all these nurses and
techs and doctors prep me for emergency surgery.......I was just thanking God
that I did not go home. That I was at the hospital so I would not lose my baby
or my life.
Noah was born that evening weighing in at 4 pounds. Two
months early. He did have some breathing problems at first, but then he was
okay. So very, very tiny, but okay. I never got to hold him, he was rushed to
the NICU to be put on monitors.
The next day, soar and scared, I was
finally able to see my baby. I was shown how to pump breast milk so the nurses
could feed him that. I got to touch him and talk to him, but I could not hold
him because, when I have a baby in my arms, I start to unconsciously rock
back and forth, and that would set off all the alarms that were attached to
him. It was a hard thing, seeing him in there like that. But with all my
touching him, talking to him, giving him my breast milk, he fattened up real
fast and he was able to go home to me and his daddy and sister one month after
he was born.
I will never, ever forget this experience. It was the most
trying time for me emotionally. I feel that I did not get to enjoy my pregnancy
at all. That I missed out on so much. I don't resent my son for this. It was
not his fault.
I do believe that if my doctor had not put me on Zoloft,
I probably would have totally lost my mind while being in the hospital. I truly
believe it was a Godsend. I stayed on it for about 2 years after and decided
that I would like to try and see if I could function without it. Well, that did
not work. I was miserable. My family was too. So I went back on it and I have
been on it ever since.
I truly believe that after having Sarah-Marie,
that I was suffering from PPD. I just couldn't get anyone to listen to me. I
was told it was because I was a new mommy and it would pass. But after Noah was
born and staying on the Zoloft for so long and then weaning myself off and
staying off of it for a year and then going back on, that what I had was real
and that I am glad I had help the second time around. My doctors, the second
time, were very supportive and I am so glad. I am closely monitored and I do
talk with a therapist twice a month. It helps. I think that also being an
older mommy did not help. I did find out after my son was born, that I had
started to go through the change. Very mild, but still, the change. Hot
flashes, months at a time with no period, and mood swings.
|
|
Please feel free to share your confidential story!
Sincerely,
Tiffani Lawton, RN
Antepartum & Postpartum Doula
Pampered Pregger & Beyond, LLC |
|
|
|
|
|
