The Month of Partial Bed Rest

So, I guess when a month goes by with out any blog posts there is probably a reason for that.

October started out as a rather busy month at work. Heck the last few months have been insanely busy. No matter what I did, I never felt caught up. Throw on top of that countless doctors appointments and ultrasounds and it was like I was constantly fighting an uphill battle to just complete my daily tasks.

Then there was Mexico. Chads parents surprised us with a family trip to Mexico; one last out of country adventure before Baby Ziti arrived. An escape to some place hot where we could all relax and enjoy ourselves. At first I was a bit nervous about the prospect of leaving home while 6 months pregnant but my doctors assured me everything would be fine. Aside from the fact that all those free boozy drinking were off limits, there was no reason for me to be worried about anything. That was, until the day before we were scheduled to board the plane back home to Canada.

With out getting into too many details, I began to spot the day before our flight home. Spotting is never a good sign and it sort of made me freak out given the fact that I was not at home. However, before over reacted I realized 1) it probably had something to do with the hematoma they found during my ultrasound 2) there was nothing I could really do about it and 3) I would be home soon enough.

Thankfully I had the idea to email my Mom and ask her to get me an appointment at the maternity clinic for first thing Saturday morning. I was sure I would go to the appointment, be told there was nothing to worry about and all would go back to normal.

Saturday turned out to be a really shitty day. The doctor of the day was running 3 hours behind, he was in such a rush that when he finally saw me that I was flustered with information and totally overwhelmed, I was told he was putting me on partial bed rest and I received a lovely parking ticket because I was parked for too long thanks to the unexpectedly long wait time.

This is when I began to over react. I took the news as if I had been given the worst case scenario, when in reality I was spotting and to be on the safe side, they just wanted me to take it easy. A very reasonable request when you think about it.

I was freaking out because I knew this meant something was wrong. I was freaking out because I had no idea how work was going to react to the news (especially since I had just been on vacations) and I was freaking out because I felt totally unable to control the situation.

The next day, while at Church (because every time I get really sick I just happen to be at Church) I experienced a really bad cramp, one that lasted about 20 minutes long. As soon as I realized what I was feeling was not normal and was not going away, I told Chad we better make a b-line to the hospital. I was panicked and Chad was scared. We were sent straight up to the Maternity ward where I explained my situation and was immediately checked out. By that point the cramp had gone away and Baby Ziti was kicking the heart rate monitor like crazy.

They sent me for blood work, ultrasounds, and had two doctors check me out. In the end everything checked out OK. Baby was very healthy and strong. I had no more cramping and was actually able to sit and talk with the doctors about my situation. They were wonderful. The spotting would probably take some time to clear up, in the mean time I was to rest at home. No work, no driving, no heavy lifting, just walking and light house work. Despite the scary nature of the situation, I felt so much better after having tests done and actually being able to talk to a doctor in a calm manner.

Work was understanding about my situation. I felt horrible about the situation I put them in, but then really it was out of my control. Totally sucks for both of us that no one other than me knows how to do my job.

The two weeks that followed were good and bad. It was nice to be able to sleep in and relax, but it was also difficult spending my day laying on the couch. I thought if I voluntarily put myself on total bed rest it would expedite the healing process and I would get better quicker, but of course, that’s not how it works. It’s mentally difficult when you want to fix this thing that’s wrong with you but you really can’t. The second week was better. I was able to get some stuff from work so I had something to occupy my time and I was starting to feel more positive about everything.

I had my next doctors appointment this past Saturday. I was hoping that despite the fact the spotting had not stopped, that maybe I could return to life as it were, but that wasn’t the case. The ultrasound they preformed on me that day at the hospital showed I had a subchorionic hemorrhage, essentially my placenta tore away from the side of my uterus and started to bleed, hence the spotting. The same thing happened with my hematoma except for some reason, that never bled. The doctor said I had to continue my partial bed rest, he would see me again in two weeks and I would only be able to return to work once the spotting stopped.

Mentally I kept thinking that this was all going to end soon and that the next calendar Monday was going to be the Monday I got to go back to work but reality kept leaving me disappointed.

I find myself faced with two situations. One, the desire to get better because I want to be better and two, the desire to get better because I have unfinished business to do and I don’t want to leave my job as is. I think the truth is I worry more about work then I do about my actual health, which I know is ridiculous, but its part of that Italian Catholic guilt complex I have. I know in this situation I just need to get over it and take care of myself, but it’s hard.

As of right now, nothing has changed. Some days are better than others but the spotting has not stopped. I have no idea how long this whole situation is going to last, but I guess the more I worry about it and put pressure on myself to get better, the worse it’s going to be. You would have thought by know I would know how to relax. Lets just says it’s a work in progress.

So, here I am, on the couch, living in uncertainty. The saving grace to all of this is Baby Ziti likes to make a playground out of my insides and as long as baby is happy and moving about, then that’s all I can ask for.

We shall take this one day at a a time.

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