Mike and I showed up bright and early yesterday to Dr. Risky’s office for my amnio. Yesterday was the first day of a union strike at Dr. Risky’s hospital (her office is adjacent to the hospital) so it was pretty crazy in the entire area. Despite that, I felt pretty calm until I was laying on the table in her office. My blood pressure was even low. Then Dr. Risky started an ultrasound to check The Acrobat and locate a good pocket of fluid for my amnio.
The Acrobat is was going nuts. Wiggling and kicking and completely the opposite of what you want right before sticking a very large needle into the area. Dr. Risky said, “I keep finding spots and he keeps moving…” Even though nothing ever seems to phase Dr. Risky, I suddenly was extremely nervous, especially when she casually tossed out, “Well if he hits the needle, he’ll move away…he can feel pain.” Awesome, doctor. Thanks for that nugget.
The actual needle insertion felt fine, if a bit weird. A prick of a needle and some pressure, and then my uterus contracted a bunch after the needle was removed. No pain from the needle, honestly. I know I’m a bit desensitized to needles after giving myself hundreds of shots, but this really didn’t hurt. Thank goodness, The Acrobat stayed still for the time the needle was inserted.
After the amnio was done, Dr. Risky, Mike, and I discussed the plan. A little more than four weeks ago, Dr. Risky scheduled me for a c-section on May 23, the day The Acrobat officially hits full-term. It was always with the contingency of “depending on the outcome of [my] fetal lung maturity amnio,” but Dr. Risky was always very confident that the lungs would be mature. Mike and I were nervous about delivering at 37 weeks, but Dr. Risky calmed us by laying out her reasons for choosing that day:
~Antiphospholipid antibody syndrome (my clotting disorder) increases the risk of still birth
~Gestational diabetes increases the risk of still birth
~A classical (vertical) and transverse (horizontal) c-section scar increases the risk of uterine rupture if I go into labor
~Plus some other risk like pre-eclampsia. All the super-fun ones!
All those sounded like great reasons to deliver at 37 weeks. Sign me and Mike up. I started mentally preparing, although if I am honest I didn’t think I’d deliver on May 23 – I really thought I’d go into labor before that. When we told members of our family the scheduled date, we always said, “But I’ll never make it that far.” History, you know?
Anyway, back to the plan. During the ultrasound, Dr. Risky had taken measurements of The Acrobat and had been very pleased by his size. She was certain his lungs would be mature. So certain that I even went over to the hospital and did all of my pre-op prep. Dr. Risky said someone would call me on Wednesday morning with the results of the amnio. But then my phone rang at 5:30, thirty minutes after Dr. Risky’s office had closed for the day.
It was a nurse from Dr. Risky’s office, telling me that the preliminary results from the amnio were back, and The Acrobat’s lungs were “intermediate.” I was like, “….huh?” because this was not the result I was expecting…kind of like when you take a sip of your iced tea but you accidentally grabbed your kid’s milk…your brain can’t compute what it’s experiencing. The nurse went on to say that the lungs were not ready, and my c-section was canceled, and I needed to call back in the morning to make an appointment to come in next Tuesday for an exam and possibly another amnio. I was just like, “Okay….” and the call ended. Then my brain went over to the Bad Place.
All those reasons Dr. Risky used to justify delivering the baby early jumped to the front of my mind. Plus, I’m off my blood thinners, so I am now at an increased clotting risk on top of the other potential complications. Do I want The Acrobat to have perfect lungs? OF COURSE. I’m clearly not insensitive to that after everything Madeline went through. But now I have the weight of the other risks and I am terrified. Remember how I was like, “Oh you guys, I am going to be so breezy this pregnancy! I’m so breezy, LOOK AT HOW BREEZY I AM!” Well, I am not breezy anymore. I am officially Monster Pregnant Lady, and I will eat your face off.
I will be calling Dr. Risky’s office first thing in the morning with a list of (so far) twenty-seven questions. I need answers, and she’s going to have to give them. And she’s probably going to be like, “What happened to Breezy Heather?” And I will answer in my Zuul voice, “THERE IS NO BREEZY HEATHER, ONLY MONSTER PREGNANT LADY.” It’s been a while since I’ve had to be an advocate but I’m pretty sure it’s like riding a bike. A pissed-off, scared, monster-possessed bike.