I'm not even quite sure where to start with this, because Jamey and I are still in a little bit of shock (and we didn't even think that was a possibility at this point).
We've had quite the week. We celebrated Jamey's birthday on Wednesday, and it was such a good day. It felt so normal, so relaxed. I took the kids and we chose gifts, a little cake, and balloons that morning. I cleaned the house, set up the kitchen table with his "surprises." He got home, we sang Happy Birthday...and poor Mira threw up on the floor. Jamey spent his birthday this year cleaning up vomit and helping hold his 4 year old over a trash can while she threw up every 20 minutes for 6 hours.
So that was fun.
I know that's just normal, it's the time of year, all kids get sick, but our big problem was that Jamey had taken off Thursday to go with me to my maternal fetal medicine and ob/gyn appointment. We had childcare lined up for both kids, but Mira was supposed to be at school for a few hours in the morning during our first appointment. And with the vomiting, I just knew no one would jump up and down at the chance to spend time with her.
But someone did. I posted a plea on Facebook for help. Jamey did not want me to go alone to my appointments (and I didn't want to go alone either), so I thought it was worth a shot. My dear friend Claudia came to the rescue yesterday morning, and she, along with another close friend Irene took care of our babies all day so we could go to our appointments. People keep saying, "I don't know how you're doing this."
Well, we would be awfully lost without all of you. <3
Our first appointment went fairly well. Gabriel's fluid is gone, so we didn't really see much. The doctor did get some more measurements but we weren't surprised by anything. Our doctor is fairly certain that by next week we will have a diagnosis for him when our next test comes back. She did say a few things that differed from what we've heard before as far as early labor goes, and in her opinion we will likely carry Gabriel to term. She does not expect his heart to stop in utero either. These were all reassuring things to hear, and even though his diagnosis is still fatal, we walked away with hope and some of our fears quelled.
We went home, got some sleep that we had missed out on the night before, and headed back in the afternoon for our routine OB appointment. "This will be pretty boring," I'd said to my friend before we headed out, "It's been a good day though."
I got a phone call last week, because my current OB had a family emergency and she will be gone for the next 3 months and I needed to be switched to a new doctor. This was our first meeting with him.
"Let's hear baby's heartbeat," he said, and pulled out the Doppler.
After several minutes of not being able to find it (which isn't uncommon), he wheeled in his ultrasound machine. He found the heartbeat right away, measured it, and cleaned off my belly.
"Did maternal fetal med mention anything about your placenta?" he asked.
Yes, I already know it's anterior, so I barely feel any fetal movement. Mira's placenta was the same, so thankfully I'm already pretty familiar with the expectations.
"No, I'm talking about in relation to your cervix."
No, they hadn't mentioned anything about that.
Let me just tell you- I know that nothing is 100% certain, I know that statistics are just that, statistics, and it doesn't say anything for sure about our case. But having a 1 in 4 chance of having a sick baby (and we've had 2 now)....these numbers are scary. So bear with me here, because our doctor gave us news/food for thought we had never ever considered.
Gabriel's placenta is currently touching my cervix. His placenta needs to be at least 2.5cm away from it in order for me to be able to have a vaginal delivery. He said that as Gabriel grows, the placenta may move away far enough for us to deliver him vaginally. Okay, that's not something to be overly concerned about right now, I thought.
"Well, there's more. Unfortunately your baby implanted right over your C-section scar. Sometimes when that happens, we see the placenta begin to grow into the scar, and after baby is born, sometimes the placenta cannot be removed safely from the uterus."
Okay, so what does that mean? I'd need a D&C to remove it? That sucks but that's not too bad either.
"No. If this happens, you will need a hysterectomy."
WHAT.
The tears began to fall at a word I never expected to hear, at least not right now. What do you mean? How do we know if this happens? If we induce now do we avoid that risk? What can be done?
He explained to us that in 25% of cases like mine (we are just so not fans of this 1 in 4 number anymore), that the placenta will grow into the uterus. It's a condition called placenta accreta. If this does happen, and I deliver vaginally, the placenta will just not come out and I will start to bleed. They would then have to take me in for an emergency hysterectomy. On the other hand, if I have a C-section, he would be able to see whether I have this or not at time of delivery and would be able to perform the hysterectomy right there because we will already be in the O.R. There is no way to know for sure before delivery whether I've developed this, and inducing early will not change this risk.
But...you know we have limited time with our baby, right?
He says yes, and that's why he's giving us this news now. He says he does not want us to be shocked if we do fall into this 25%, because the need for surgery will be immediate, and it will need to be done under general anesthesia.
I'm facing the possibility of being asleep through Gabriel's life. And waking up with no baby, and no uterus.
You can say, "Oh but it's ONLY 25%!"
That number is not trivial. Not when it's your life. Not when you might miss your baby's life. I'm not being negative, but we have to now process this very real possibility. I do not need reassurances, because no one knows what will or will not happen. I am not living in fear, but am simply trying to process another layer of grief that we hadn't even considered.
This is not right. This is not fair. This is wrong.
I'm so mad.
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