Monday, December 15, 2008

Postnatal Check-up

Well, I had my postnatal today. My cervix has closed, my BP was high but stable, and my blood/urine tests were better than before. On a good note, my uric acid dropped to 8 point something (7 is normal) so it is on it's way back if it isn't already. My liver function tests were still high (I forget exactly what) but they are lower than before so they have started their descent as well. The blood clotting tests were all negative, so finally, a problem that I dont have. We spent about an hour with Dr. B. discussing results and what we'll do "next time". Short end of the stick, there's really nothing that can be done about the preeclampsia and I now have a 1 in 5 chance of getting the severe version very early, which could mean delivery at 24w (if I can get that far). Which is upsetting. There's no guarantee, obviously, but a 20% chance is a 20% chance. And, then, there's the cervix issue. He really thinks that a cerclage will hold and get us full term (or as full term as preeclampsia might make possible). I hope that he's right. So, end of 12w, and a stitch. Shirodkar.

I feel so empty inside. Just... Empty. I alternate between sadness and a feeling that has no name. I feel better when Peter is here, holding me or just here. Something. Some reminder of those three perfect people who have made my life better. Some reminder of the right in the world. Someone else to see so that I dont have to see me, the one whose body failed.

I have to do some housework... I have home office hours shortly and I need to vacuum.

2 comments:

Cara said...

"I alternate between sadness and a feeling that has no name."

Wow - Michele that is a powerful statement. I remember that feeling that has no name. Someday, it morphs into something that is nameable.

Praying for you.

c. said...

I was going to write the same thing as Cara about that particular line. It describes my feelings exactly.

The emptiness is overwhelming. It leaves me questionning: How much heartache can a person possibly be expected to tolerate? You've been given too much, Michele. Absolutely.

Thinking of you, M. Hoping for better days.