Eye Opening

As you recall, I had a horrible pregnancy with MM.  A dangerous pregnancy.  One filled with worry and fear and despair.  Pregnancy-Induced Hypertension very early (8 weeks earlier than the “average” woman who gets PIH) that turned into Preeclampsia so so so very early (11 weeks earlier than “average”).  Gestational Diabetes that turned severe (four insulin shots/day and still uncontrolled) early too.  And then there was that delivery–oh, that scary delivery–with Eclampsia.  The delivery where my blood pressure turned to 240/170 and by all accounts I should have had a seizure or stroke or both.  But I didn’t.

It’s so easy to forget what pregnancy was like for me.  I see (basically) everyone of my friends who get pregnant breeze right through.  Working all the way up to giving birth, shopping, living life–all the things that came to a standstill when MM was just 27 weeks old.

I don’t even think about that rough time anymore.  I’ve kind of sugar-coated it all in my mind.  I push back the memories of being so scared I could barely breath as I lay in a hospital bed when the doctor told me about my condition at 27 weeks or crying so hard that first night in the hospital at 31 weeks or the constant fear each time I went to my twice weekly doctor and ultrasound appointments.  I remember always holding my breath as the sonographer put the ultrasound wand over my belly until I could see MM’s beating heart.  I remember the dread each time the nurses wanted to take my blood pressure twice because I knew that meant more time spent in the hospital.

I read today that Michelle Duggar gave birth at 25 weeks to her 19th child due to Preeclampsia.  The baby girl weighs 1 pound, 6 ounces.

And that’s what has brought back all these feelings for me.  There is this huge part of me that wants a big family–I’d say at least 5 kids (C. says he’s fine with 1-2)–but then I remember my horrible first pregnancy and how so very lucky we were to have a healthy baby–and it makes me scared to get pregnant again.  I constantly wonder if I’ll have the same problems again…or if they’ll be worse this time.

I pray every day that if we are blessed with another child that it–and me–will be okay.  But I’m not going to lie, I’m still really scared.

Comments RSS Both comments and pings are currently closed.