I was just about to email y’all but was trying to get to a “better place” first…
My blood pressure was back down to 132/78 and Dr. Howard was happy with that. So, we’ll be bringing Sam over by 6:00 every Friday and picking him up around 6:00 (that’d be PM) on Sunday for the next 7 weeks, or so. J
The baby did great on the non-stress test. We saw heart rate accelerations and decelerations, just like we’re supposed to. She did good on the bio-physical profile, also, but not without some stress. They didn’t see her taking any practice breaths. That’s one of the things they “grade” for on the test. They have to watch for 30 minutes without seeing her take a breath before they start to worry. About 10 minutes in, without her taking a breath, the sonographer grabbed a cattle prod and shocked my belly.
I kid you not.
Finally, a few minutes after getting shocked, Zoey woke up and started breathing.
As the sonographer was doing the ultrasound, I noticed that she was taking a long time looking at Zoey’s brain. Then she’d move away but always go back to her brain. I’m not stupid… I know that when they spend a long time looking at one thing in particular, there’s a reason. Of course, the sonographer couldn’t tell me anything other than, “I’m just trying to get some good pictures.”
Oh how I hate being lied to.
So, I had to wait forever for the doctor to come in and, sure enough, he’s holding a picture of Zoey’s brain with an arrow and a question mark that the sonographer had drawn. I asked him what was going on with her brain and he said the sonographer thought she saw “something” around the cerebellum area of Zoey’s brain but he (Dr. Howard) didn’t see anything.
Keep in mind that if she were to have one of the underlying disorders that I’ve mentioned before, there would possibly be evidence of it (such as cysts, etc.) on the brain. So I KNOW that looking closely at brain = not good.
I feel somewhat (and I mean…only a very little bit) reassured that the doctor said he didn’t see anything. The truth is, until she is here, we just won’t know the true extent of any other problems, if any. And I am hoping and praying there aren’t any…but until she’s here and I can see for myself, nothing much is going to reassure me that she is and will be fine.
SIXTY percent of kids with omphaloceles have other problems. THIRTY percent don’t survive.
Some days I do better with these stats than others. This is obviously not a good day. Sorry for that…
Just pray for me.
The stress of this is getting the best of me. I thought I’d feel better with the closer monitoring but, truthfully, I don’t. Every week is just more and new stress. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wondering what bad news we’ll get this time. For example, I found out yesterday that, even though omphaloceles typically don’t’ get bigger, the sac that her organs are in could rupture. Nice, huh? And there’s not a freaking thing I can do to prevent it. There’s not a single thing I can do to protect my baby. I don’t do helpless. Yet that’s what I am… exactly HELPLESS to help my child.
I’m also not good at “what ifs”. I like knowing. And planning. And being prepared. I have no idea how to handle seven more weeks of this not knowing. I’m ready to deliver her so we can see what we’re dealing with here (and truthfully, I’m ready to get her out of the womb so someone else can be responsible for things for a while). I think I’ll be better able to deal with the…certainties once she’s here. It’s the uncertainty right now that I’m not at all equipped to deal with. I’m just not strong enough.
I’m tired.
Just totally exhausted.
Anyway, sorry for the big “dump” there. Like I said, was hoping to get to a better place…
Just pray for me. Pray for Zoey.
A~
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
April 21st Update to Family and Friends
Not my finest moment...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)



No comments:
Post a Comment