Final hurdles

I don't like April Fool's.  I don't think it's nice or fun to trick people, to prank them or otherwise deceive them, no matter how innocent you think it is.  One of the few things we have in this world is our integrity and with all the fakers out there, we could all stand for a little more authenticity.


I also don't like the word/concept of 'normal.'  There is no such thing.  I understand that we have to have a standard, something to follow, a foundation for guidelines, but that doesn't mean that falling outside the guidelines means there's something wrong with you.  Especially when it comes to people - none of us are normal and that's what makes us all beautiful.


But boy, I sure do wish this was all an elaborate April Fool's joke and that I were normal.


I'm 38 weeks today.  One week past full-term.  I'm fully cooked and then some and that is a beautiful thing.  I went to the doctor today and had my very first non-stress test and my doctor pronounced my strip 'beautiful.'  The baby was merrily kicking, I still haven't hit 150 pounds, I think it's safe to say the cankles demons have passed me over and overall I'm feeling pretty good.  I'm feeling the effects of the relaxin hormones and my left hip feels like it's going to fall out of joint any minute but even that isn't bringing me down too much.

38 weeks, and probably the last of my

bathroom belly shots.

However, I'm not 'normal.'  I have been lulled into thinking that I was, because of the above things.  Additionally, I haven't swollen up with high blood pressure, I don't have group B strep, my iron levels are good, the baby has been growing on schedule and the shots have been integrated into my life in such a way that most days I barely notice them.

I began to think I was normal.

It's just that women with 'normal' pregnancies don't have to take shots.  Women with normal pregnancies don't usually have multiple losses.  Normal doesn't mean two clotting disorders.  I forgot that part.

I chose to focus on the happy, the good parts, even writing about my choice to focus on the positive and leave the negative behind.  However, all the positive thinking in the world doesn't change the fact that I have clotting disorders and without treatment I cannot carry a pregnancy.  Furthermore, the shots are not a cure.  If I stopped the Heparin, in about 12 hours my body would pick up where it left off 38 weeks ago and start producing the clotting antibodies that caused my last two losses.

Ironically, what my body does?  Attacking foreign bodies to preserve the host - that's 'normal.'  Pregnancy is the only time in our lives that our body allows something foreign to grow inside of us, taking the resources and nutrients from our bones and cells.  It's this intricate dance of hormones and trickery that allows a process that produces teeny tiny feet to put in teeny tiny socks.  There's no such thing as normal. 

But somehow, somewhere I forgot that.  I got caught up in the ride, telling myself that I was like every other 'normal' pregnant woman.  I watched the serene, calm, beautiful quiet home-birthing videos and told myself that I too could have that.  Maybe not the homebirth part, but everything else.  I forgot that I have to see a maternal-fetal-medicine specialist for monthly ultrasounds to make sure that my clotting factors aren't causing growth restriction.  I forgot that there was a reason for my losses, that I didn't have extraordinarily bad luck.  I forgot that these clotting disorders are nasty, that despite the shots, I'm still at risk for late-term fetal demise and stillbirth. And that's not anecdotal information - everywhere you look, it says the same thing.  Over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Today, I remembered.  Or rather, I was reminded.

I have to be induced.  The risks of my clotting disorders outweigh the benefits of leaving the baby inside and I'm going to be induced before my due date.  April 11th.  That's as far as my specialist is willing to go.  That's the biggest risk he's willing to take.  Because I'm not normal.

I burst into tears when my OB told me, crying out "You're going to cut me open!  If my Bishop's Score is zero, an induction won't work and you'll have to cut me open!  You're going to give me a 'failure to progress' and you're going to to cut me open!!  I'm not swelling up, my blood pressure is fine, the baby is fine, I'm fine!"  But it's none of those things - it's the clotting.  The one thing I can't do anything about.  The one thing that makes everything else somewhat irrelevant. 

That's the thing - I trust my specialist and I trust my OB.  That's what makes it so hard - when someone you trust tells you something you don't want to hear, what are you supposed you do?  Of course, I wanted to get a second opinion but even *I* know my sole purpose would be to simply find someone who'll tell me that I'm normal, that my clotting disorders aren't that bad and that I can do this like every other pregnant woman.  It's not because I think my doctors are misinformed or that they are giving me bad information.  If that were the case, I would have switched doctors a long time ago.  No, I just don't like what they're saying and that's not a valid reason to go traipsing around town, looking for someone to blow sunshine up my butt.

I know I'm in good hands because my OB is amazing.  She knows me, she knows what I want and repeatedly said that we're going to work together to make this happen, that she's not going to be aggressive and that she's going to give me a good solid trial of labor, meaning intermittant monitoring, no breaking of the waters, movement, food, all that.  She hears me and she's going to work with me.  Most importantly, I believe her.  I know she's going to do everything possible to help me have the birth I want, within these parameters of 'high risk.'

Right now, I'm still working through things.  I'm trying to tell myself that it's still going to be okay, that the final hurdles seem the highest, the most daunting.  That it's always darkest before the dawn, all that crap.  That I have the strength to make this into a positive situation, that all is not lost.

I'm still working on that part.