The Tipping Point

Every so often you realize life hangs in a delicate balance. A once stable situation can easily become chaotic and ruined over mere tilt a fraction in one direction. Just today I noticed Kaitlyn's cup of root beer leaning in such a way, I was shocked it hadn't just crashed to the floor the second she placed it there. But it didn't because of it's strategic position. It had just the right angle that it resisted the urge of gravity and remained where she had left it. A small miracle if you will. How did it not fall? Balance. It is a crucial part. And it had balance from one thing- a stable, unmoving computer holding it up, keeping it steady. And a little luck helped too.

In my life I can go on with my daily routine and errands and chores and then with one small turn of events everything can go amiss and suddenly your once planned day or week or month is suddenly on a new and completely different course requiring immediate action and major adjustments. Routine life is now not in your future and you have to quickly set new plans in motion and go with the flow. Otherwise you will sink. End of story.

And when real life suddenly goes a bit haywire you know more than ever you need some things to balance you out- to help you do the daily things that are now impossible to complete. You need help and friends and family and while I would not use the word luck, I would say you do need lots of blessings and even a miracle now and then. You do.

And boy have I been blessed. Like the windows of heaven were opened and I was the recipient of boundless blessings. For instance- love and prayers and support and phone calls and emails and it has given me the one important thing I have needed through this rough patch of life: HOPE. You have to have hope to get you through the times when you thing you really might just tip over and become a huge mess. A really big mess. And I know since during the darkest moments since all this started, when that tiny bit of hope seemed to be slipping through my fingers, there was always someone one cheering me on and telling me would be OK, that we would get through. And I knew they were telling me the truth. What a difference that makes. It fact it makes ALL the DIFFERENCE. It pulls you through.

I don't even know how to start my tale and there is still no final ending making it even harder to explain.

Not twenty four hours after Rich left for D.C. and just twelve hours after I wrote the post about his departure the "Tipping Point" occurred. Tuesday morning, February 10, just before I was to head over the to school for lunch with the boys I started to bleed. And that is never good when you are pregnant. Yes, I am expecting baby #6 at the end of August. (So much for a clever announcement on April Fool's Day I had planned....) Blood is never a good thing when there is a baby in your belly. Besides our parents, no one knew I was pregnant. I had yet to see an OB-Gyn since they could only see me five weeks after I called (and the office has an EVIL receptionist by the way). Strike One for Dr. Z.

I called my dad, who is an OB/Gyn. He said I needed an ultrasound. I had one a few weeks earlier to confirm I was only having one baby (which I am- to my relief), but I needed another one that day. I phoned Rich in D.C. and he called the hospital and the tech agreed to take a quick peek that night. With all five kids in tow we headed to the Radiology department at 6 PM. While the boys (clueless to why we were there) sat in the empty waiting room and the girls strapped in their stroller in the room with me, the tech did a quick scan. The baby looked great, but there was a massive dark mass below and around the baby's amniotic sac. The dark mass was blood. She got a second tech, who then got the radiology resident (who is a year behind Rich), who then got the OB resident and they together told me I had a subchorionic hemorrhage. Not knowing quite what this meant I memorized their diagnosis so I could repeat it to my dad and Rich. They also told me to call my doctor in the morning and get a rhogam shot within 48 hours because I have rh negative blood. We packed up and left and I phoned my dad to see what he thought.

A subchorionic hemorrhage is when is a gathering of blood between the chorion and the uterus. A small part of the placenta lifted and that space filled with blood. One some occasions a blood clot will form (hematoma). The incidence of subchorionic hemorrhage is 1.3% of all pregnancies The presence of sonographically detected subchorionic hemorrhage increases the risk of miscarriage, stillbirth, placenta abruption, and preterm labor. Common manifestations of subchorionic hematoma are idiopathic premature labor, painless vaginal bleeding, abdominal pain, and threatened abortion in the first or second trimesters. (Copied from emedicine.com- easier than trying to explain it in my own words....)

As soon as we got to the sky bridge and my cell phone regained reception I called my dad who encouraged me and told me I should be fine, but I needed to stay off my feet and not lift the girls. I was immediately comforted and hopeful. I called Rich and prayed all would work out.

I swore the boys to secrecy that night and told him the real reason we were went to the hospital. I really didn't want to be the talk of the of classroom the next morning in a speech that would have used the words- baby, hospital, blood-during morning announcements. I was a school teacher once and primary teacher too. I know kids. They were surprised and excited, but scared. They knew I was having problems, but they were going to be my #1 helpers, or so I hoped.

Josh threw up that night and stayed home from school. Not good.

The next morning I called my local, but yet to be seen, Dr. Z. I was hoping to just get a rhogam shot in his office making it easy to take the girls along with me while Josh pushed the stroller. The office was not opened when I called at 8 AM and they took my number and had the on call doctor call me back. She was friendly and told me to call the office back and set up a time to come into the office and get the shot. I called the office and evil receptionist (no joke here) answered and told me that I would have to go to the E.R. I told her I had already spent two hours at the hospital the night before and the on call doc told me they could help me in the office. She took my number and said she's talk to Dr. Z. Two hours later I was still waiting.

In the mean time I was still bleeding (not spotting, bleeding) and the school called informing Trey was now sick (totally faking in my opinion) and I ran to the school with the girls and Josh tagging along and picked him up. Still no phone call from Dr. Z. At this point I am in tears. I have talked to my dad and yet my horrible doctor and evil receptionist have yet to call back. Strike Two for Dr. Z.

Rich finally took a break from his lecture at 10 AM, turned his phone on and called me back. He called Dr. Z and of course the Dr. talked to him personally. He told me he was 'swamped' that morning with patients (can you see where this is headed- towards HATE) so it would be better if I went to the OB triage at the hospital.

I called Ashlee to tell her I had sick kids and could not come over to her play date and within seconds I am sobbing and telling her my sad tale and how I need to go back to the hospital, etc, etc and she was there in five minutes to rescue me so I could go to the hospital alone- a true blessing later to be discovered. Tiffany was close behind and I was headed downtown at 10:30 AM.

After parking in the garage across the street and the mile long walk to find the the OB department on the third floor I made it to triage. After a short wait and a few conversations between the lady behind the counter and a doctor in a back room, I was informed that since I had not seen Dr. Z for this pregnancy I would have to go to the Emergency Room. Yes, I was dismissed and directed to the hell hole down the in the bowels of the hospital. I truly would equate the E.R. to being in prison. It's that bad. Strike three for Dr. Z.

Six hours later. Let me say that again SIX HOURS later I finally was discharged. And I knew nothing more after my stay even though I had my blood and urine tested and I had a vaginal check by the ER doctor. But I did get my precious and needed rhogam shot. That was the only good bit.

I also was told by the ER attending that I was supposed to see the nurse at my doctor's office in the morning and that they bumped up my appoint with Dr. Z by two weeks. I thought I might have to give him one more chance. When I finally got home and rescued Ashlee and Tiffany from my brood at 4 PM, I called the doctor to see when this new appointment was and discovered their "swamped" office was closed for the day. Closed before I got home from the E.R. Dr. Z- You're Out! The next morning at 8 AM I promptly called my insurance to find a new doctor.

Even in the mists of chaos, help was on the way. My parents called and said my mom booked a flight to Lexington and would come to our aid on Saturday. Just 48 hours to be alone. We would make it. I stayed down on the couch. The house was a wreck. Laundry piled up. And a friend took the boys to their home to play after school. Ashlee brought dinner (and cleaned my disastrous kitchen) and friends called and I called family and my mom arrived in the nick of time.

My mom deserves an entire post to herself. The woman of a million talents fixed floors, made quilts, painted walls, caulked bathrooms, spackled ceilings, shopped and cooked and cleaned until any person of normal ability would have fainted from exhaust. She's a miracle worker.

All was well until the next Tuesday and I started to bleed again and that night awoke and found myself in a pool of blood. Scary. Very scary.

I called my dad the next morning. He said I needed another ultrasound that day. Since I had not seen my new doctor yet (high risk OB), I was again directed to the E.R. exactly one week after my first frustrating visit. Not an exciting idea, but one that would have to be followed through. It also was gloomy and raining and depressing looking outside, just like it had the previous Wednesday.

(Side note: Just to vent a little, anyone in the world that would support Pres. Obama by radically changing our medical system to a socialized system needs to experience my week. This new system would mean all doctors would be employees of the government and doctors would be assigned clinics with patients. They would find that their doctor, much like my Dr. Z, would not give one bit of sympathy or genuine concern, find that they do not call you back-ever, and who would eagerly pass the buck and direct you to a long line in the E.R instead of fixing you themselves. People would NEVER and I mean NEVER be happy with this care. I know. I've lived it myself. It really is that bad.)

Back to the E.R. I went leaving my mom with the girls and hoping I would be home before nightfall. And while I was there for hours and hours, I had a full ultrasound read by one of Rich's attending doctors, Dr. Freed. I did indeed have a "sizable" hemorrhage and blood clot and he said the outcome of it all is out of the hands of doctors and man (meaning it's up to God). I was worried about the clot, but again still hopeful.

I called my dad told me to keep staying down and that he still felt good about it all.

Then I went to my first real appoint with the high risk group on Friday, along with my mom and the girls in the stroller. How nice it was to finally have some moral support! I had an ultrasound with Dr. Hanson, an attending perinatologist that Rich often works with and really likes. She was wonderful and went over every bit of the scan. The baby looks great- 14 weeks, a 4 chamber hearts, fluid in the stomach, a perfect brain, 2 little crossed legs, 2 arms, baby sucking its thumb, but the blood clot looked scary. The blood from the sides had moved downward and it looked huge. She called it moderate to large, but then later said it was large. Again- words that induce panic and tears. She said clots can weaken linings (amniotic sac) and lead to preterm labor. Again- panic attack to hear. And while she was so nice and sweet and honest and had me talk to the office manager and schedule my next ultrasound along with my first real OB appointment in 2 weeks on the same day (huge favor), I left the office feeling deflated, defeated and straight scared. I could not hold back the tears as we walked to the van.

But then a tender mercy came in the form of my dad. Even with the new, grim news of the clot's current size, he stayed positive and upbeat and told me he really thought it would be OK. I got home and scanned the photos and sent them to him via email. He took a look and passed them along to his ultrasonographer. They both gave me good feedback. The clot is not between the placenta, which is good. And they have seen patients with problems like mine that have resolved themselves by 20 weeks.

Yes, the clot is still huge, I still could miscarry, my body might not absorb it and I'll have to be careful the entire pregnancy (no lifting, grocery shopping, pulling, pushing, excessive standing, etc), but I again had hope. And it made all the difference. I know that no matter how this ends, I'll do my best and we'll get through. It's amazing how a little hope can go a long, long, long way. Hopefully until August.

So to my dear sweet husband, I Love You! He has crossed the country twice in two weeks to spend the weekends with us. In fact, he flew out tonight from Lexington to Cincinnati and then was to go onto Baltimore and his flight to Baltimore got canceled (no 1st officer for his flight and a massive storm system is dumping snow and ice along the east coast). He just rented a car and is driving back to Lexington as I type and will leave on Tuesday morning. What a trooper. Rich, you give me the love and support and help that I need every day of my life. You are my soul mate and I feel privileged to be able to walk through this journey of mortality by your side. We truly can get through anything together.

To my amazing mother, who I aspire to be more like everyday- THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. You saved us. You are my best friend. As you left the car today, Matt said, "I miss her already and it's only been 5 seconds." I couldn't have said it better myself.

To my Dad, world's best doctor (Truly!!!), my ultimate cheerleader and advice guru- you lifted my heart and spirit when I needed it most. You gave me back hope and helped me see the light. Thank you. I love you more than you can know.

To my Mother-in-law who is coming to our aid tomorrow. Thank you for your love, support, prayers and willingness to come and stay and help whenever we ask. Thank you. And to my Father-in-law for giving up his dear wife for two weeks and for his constant love and support as well.

To my sister Kristi- If I would have said 'yes, I need you I now' when you offered while I was sitting in that stinkin' ER, I knew within seconds you would have been on the road, girls strapped in tight, traveling east coming to my rescue. I do not know if I can ever be the friend to you that you are to me. I love you.

To Ashlee and Tiffany- Not five minutes after I called, you were there on my door step ready to pitch in, even with my boys home sick from school and my girls ready to tear the house part. You were real lifesavers in life. I love you both.

To friends far and near (Traci, Marcie, Tiffany, Nancy, Debbie) that have taken my kids, called to check on me and offered service and prayers- thank you, thank you, thank you. You are all real angels ready to give aid.

This mortal journey through life is tough. There are ups and downs. There are happy times and sad times, but through it all I have to be GRATEFUL for the journey. That is what it is. Our test. Our mission. Our time to experience LIFE and that means the good and bad. I am blesssed with amazing family and friends which lift my soul and heal my heart. And through it all, I know that Heavenly Father knows me, loves me and will help me get through whatever lies ahead.