So it took me a long time to write this post (it is actually June 23rd). This pregnancy was a very difficult event for me for a lot of reasons, and I kind of needed to get over some of the bitterness first. And, as always, now that I look back at it, I can see a lot of blessings. So sometimes it is best to just trudge through it until things get clearer instead of complaining the entire time about what I don't see or understand.
But on to the complications. First of all, this pregnancy was very difficult for different reasons than my other pregnancies. I was still super sick the ENTIRE time. But because Kellen switched jobs, we had about two months without health insurance. I found out I was pregnant soon after we moved to Georgia - as I started getting super nauseated which quickly turned into many puking sessions and not being able to even think about food. Only this time, I had two very little kids (Olive - 2 yrs old, Eli - 7 months old), and my biggest helper (Shade - 6 yrs old) started school August 4th with a start time of 7:30 am (which meant him getting up at 6 to catch the bus at 7). At least we had a bus that came right into our apartment complex, so I didn't have to either walk everyone a half mile or get everyone in the car to drop off/pick up Shade (like in Michigan). But still. So without the insurance, I didn't want to pay to go see a doctor for anti-nausea medicine, so I was all the way through the first trimester by the time our new insurance kicked in and I was able to get an appointment. That was a miserable 12 weeks! Needless to say, I spent most of that time lying on the couch in between feeding kids, changing diapers, and trying to shove something down my throat so my stomach would settle even for a little bit. And of course, there was the pure exhaustion of the first trimester.
Other than feeling completely useless and exhausted, I also felt very self-conscious this pregnancy. This was not a planned pregnancy, and I had not lost all the weight from Eli (it had only been 6 months). And my stomach still had not shrunk back down to where it should have been, so I looked 5 months pregnant from the beginning (I later realized and found out that I had severe diastasis recti - permanently stretched out stomach muscles - from my 3rd pregnancy, due to all the UNNECESSARY complications that I had). On top of that, Kellen and I had more disagreements about petty things pretty much as soon as we moved to Georgia than during our whole marriage, which made me feel even more useless and self-conscious. I don't know if it was because of the stress of us moving and starting a new job while I became very sick just 4 months after recovering from my last surgery and having been sick the 9 months prior to that. But it doesn't really matter why, just that it was. So on top of struggling to care for myself and my kids (let alone my apartment), I felt super icky and uncomfortable around people I didn't know, which made it difficult to want to socialize and make friends, which made the whole 9 months super lonely for me. I was borderline depressed the entire time.
And then guess what? I got gestational diabetes again. Sooner and worse than last time. Surprise, surprise. I was better able to control it this time, though, because I was not working. At one point I started getting extra amniotic fluid again, and I learned from one of the doctors that one cause could be not controlling my blood sugar tightly (there are many causes, and it often cannot be determined). This was after we had gone to visit my dad for Christmas and I was not as diligent about when I took my insulin when we were out doing activities. My blood sugar never got that high, but I let it stay higher than normal for longer than I should have. Once I got back from vacation, I was very careful about when I took my insulin, and my fluid levels went back to normal. Coincidence, or fixing the cause? I don't know. But had I have known that when pregnant with Eli, I would have been more diligent about my blood sugars on the nights I worked! I actually didn't take insulin the nights that I worked because I never had a guarantee that I would be able to check my sugars or eat/drink something the moment I needed to if my sugar got too low. I only worked once a week, and I didn't eat/drink super sugary stuff while working anyway, but it could have made a difference, and I may have been able to avoid that whole not being able to change the due date thing! And then, my muscles would not have had to endure an extra two weeks of stretching with an almost 12 pound baby! But again, oh, well.
And then came the issue of how and when to fix my stomach muscles. The doctor who was going to do my c-section said if she could, she would put a few stitches in to help tighten my muscles while doing the surgery. That was the first bit of hope I had gotten the entire pregnancy. But as she found out during the birth, I had too many adhesions from previous surgeries, and she was not able to easily access my stomach muscles. Oh, well. To be addressed later.
And finally, the doctors asked me at every appointment what my plans for birth control were. The main doctor I was seeing (Dr. Banks) warned me a couple of different times about the risks of trying to have a 5th c-section, about ending up with permanent diabetes, and about further damaging my stomach muscles, especially if I were to have twins (which do run in my family). I had already been proven to not be a good candidate for an IUD, and pills you can take while breastfeeding make me feel weird. Plus, having 3 little kids ages 3 and under, I would not want to have another baby for at least a couple of years, especially if I were to get super sick again, so I would have to live with my damaged stomach muscles until after all of that. And of course I am already going to be 36 this year. So the idea of permanent birth control came up (a tubal ligation), and it actually made sense at the time. Kellen and I talked about it a lot. I prayed about it a lot. We felt like it was a good choice for us, especially since we have always been open to the idea of adoption.
As I got closer to the picked surgery date (one week earlier than the ultrasound-inspired due date), I got more uncomfortable and slept worse. I was still "morning" sick the entire time, and usually got up, puked, took anti-nausea medication and insulin, and choked down some breakfast. I was able to tolerate a much bigger variety of foods this time, thank Heaven, but it was still extremely unpleasant to eat, and I often could not stomach veggies and meats (a big staple of a diabetic diet), or liquids. It is very difficult for me to stay hydrated during pregnancy. And then the heartburn started, which is only stopped with milk for me...which is not great for my blood sugars... etc, etc. And the constipation. And the lack of energy and sleep... I ended up picking up a nasty cold 2 weeks before my surgery. And along with this cold came a nasty cough - that would NOT got away, and woke me up several times during the night with coughing fits. I got a blessing, prayed like crazy, and nothing helped. I finally gave in and got some OTC cough medicine (I hate that stuff) to see if I could at least get SOME sleep before my surgery and the inevitable sleepless nights of nighttime newborn feedings, but it didn't really help...
The day before surgery, my cough was still really bad. I was nervous they wouldn't let me go through with the surgery, but they said they could probably give me something to stop the coughing long enough. I got a blessing for the surgery too - and guess what? I coughed a few times before the surgery, but not during the surgery until the very end when they were stitching me up and it didn't matter if I coughed as much then. Whew!
But then for the three days I was in the hospital after the surgery, my coughing fits came back with a vengeance! And man, that was some of the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life! I would have Kellen stand in front of me and push a pillow up against my stomach while I would cough my guts out because I was not able to hold it tightly enough myself. They gave me cough syrup with codeine - it helped some, but tasted nasty and gave me headaches. But the coughing fits not only targeted my new incision area, but was also causing some of my other muscles to get really sore from trying to steady myself during the episodes, so coughing became a widespread painful event. I was already maxed out on medications they were willing to give me (oxycontin and ibuprofen), and I asked if I could at least get a heating pad. The nurse said she would have to get a doctor's order for that, and I should try ice packs first. I told her cold will not help with all the tight muscles and asked her to please see if I could get a heating pad. She finally got me one, and it was like a little bit of heaven! The coughing fits were still bad, but the heating pad really helped relax everything in between. I wore that thing every time I was in bed, even sitting and sleeping. I really need to get me one of those things! Well, this lovely cough ended up getting pretty wet, like I was developing pneumonia, and lasted another 2 weeks! I am just glad I was breastfeeding, because I accidentally coughed on the baby more than once. That being said, I also didn't want to hold my baby very much because I felt so contaminated, so I didn't really get to enjoy the few perks of having a newborn (cuddles). And then, as soon as this cough finally let up, I got a fun sinus infection on the right side (which I still have remnants of at the end of June, 3 months later).
As for the tubal, they told me that it was part of the reason for my increased pain. This was my most painful recovery of all 4 even without the coughing. And I was pretty gung-ho to go through with the tubal. During the surgery they verified and asked me one final time if I still wanted to do it, and I said - yes, I don't need to go through with this again. But then as soon as I was recovering and getting to hold my baby, I started to regret that decision! I don't really know why, I had felt so sure about it before, and it was torturing me. I even looked up information about tubal reversals. It may have been partially because I had always envisioned having at least 5 or 6 kids, and all before I was 40 years old. And I kind of felt guilty that I was making a "selfish" decision to not have to suffer anymore in order to have more kids, and of course adoption is not an easy or cheap process either. So it took me a couple of months and a priesthood blessing in which Kellen specifically said "I bless you with peace and comfort, that you will know that you made the right decision regarding not having more children..." which I had to reread many times before I finally came to terms with that decision and started to feel okay with it. Especially since he added in the blessing "I bless you that you will be able to focus your attention and energy on being the best mother possible for the four wonderful children that you have." I know I have been blessed with amazingly awesome kids! And it really hasn't been fair to them how much I have neglected them so far with each torturous pregnancy I have gone through. So in that light, it really is best for me not to be pregnant again. I can only hope that one day God will find us fit to add to our family in a different way. But if not, we already have the perfect kids!
And as for the diabetes, my sugars post-birth seemed fine, although I did have times when my body would drop my sugars into the 50's by itself. But then as I stayed sick and kept getting new illnesses, I started getting more and more exhausted. Then I remembered my older sister telling me how she was super tired right before she was diagnosed with diabetes (type 1), and started checking my blood sugars. They were high. I went back to the doctor and did a glucose test - and it came back super high - 350 two hours after drinking a sugar drink! It should normally be under 120! Crap. So now I have diabetes. My body is currently still producing its own insulin, just not enough to control my blood sugar on its own. So I guess I am one bad illness away from becoming a type 1 diabetic. My older sister said her sugars were fine until she got a bad cold, at which time her body decided it would be a good idea to attack her pancreas and kill off her insulin-producing cells. And apparently, this is genetic as we have at least one other cousin we know of who went through this. Fun stuff. On to a lifetime of controlling sugars to avoid the super un-awesome consequences I have personally seen (as a nurse) from uncontrolled sugars (amputations, nasty infections, wounds that don't heal, blindness, kidney failure, heart problems, etc, etc). I guess sometimes the body can only handle so much stress before it starts to attack itself...? I only hope I haven't passed this on to my kids!
And about the diastasis recti? I will write about that in another post. This one is already way too long :)
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