Welcome to my ramblings about being on bed rest while pregnant with my second child.
Honestly, I'm a fairly private person. But bed rest has a way of making you desperate for human contact even if it's strangers reading voyeristically about your situation. So, how did I get to this point? Here comes the rambling.
At 13 weeks pregnant I was at work alone when I started cramping and bleeding heavily. I was taken by ambulance to the ER where I found myself going from a mascara and tear faced mess to coping with my situation by joking with whomever would come into my room. The ultrasound showed the baby had a heartbeat! A strong heartbeat and my husband even saw the baby moving around.
I finally was given an answer to why I was bleeding. I had marginal placenta previa. This meant that the nourishing lifeline to my baby was sitting very low, possibly dangerously low. After a visit to my OB, she decided bed rest was a good choice. A week later the bleeding had stopped and my doctor felt I could go back to work on modified duty. I was thrilled to be able to leave the confines of my bed and be my usual self as mom and wife again.
Three days into going back to work, at 15 weeks pregnant, I started spotting. Back to the doctor I went and an ultrasound that confirmed a new problem, a subchorianic hematoma. A potentially dangerous collection of blood or a blood clot between the placenta and uterine wall. The ultrasound also showed that my placenta had moved up a bit and was no longer an issue. So, with the bad news of a new issue, I got the good news of my previa resolving. The only problem was this hematoma was pretty large. 3cm x 5cm extending to 8cm at points. This meant I was "far off the beaten path" and have to see a high risk OB .
I am 17 weeks now. I see my perinatologist in a few days and hope to have many more questions answered. I awoke to more spotting and cramping this morning and frankly after nearly 2 straight weeks of laying in bed, I'm going a bit nuts.
I feel guilt that my husband has to be "super dad" and do it all. Guilt that I can't pick up my 2 year old son or take him to the park. Most of all, I struggle with asking people for help.
I am a bit of a control freak. I like to generally know what to expect day to day. After I had my son, Jackson, I learned that having children makes life unpredictable. I thought I had let go of my control freak ways. Maybe not entirely.
