My Birth Story: Prologue
This is the first in a series of posts that will try to preserve my experience of Zoe's birth. They're mostly for me to keep an account of one of the most incredible events in my life. This is the "excruciating detailed" version which will likely include some stuff that will qualify as TMI. Just wanted to give fair warning.
I'm thankful to have had a pretty easy pregnancy, at least until it all went kablooey at the end of the 8th month. Pregnancy sickness was minimal and easy to control once the pattern was deciphered (too hungry or too full). I managed to avoid getting gestational diabetes, kept my thyroid condition well managed, and every test came back favorable -- a very mundane pregnancy. I kept wondering why it felt so easy.
The 8th month was definitely the most difficult. My expanding belly was making things challenging, ligaments were loosening causing new and interesting aches, and my feet were swelling enough that none of my shoes fit properly. I had to order a pair of men's size 9, EE width just to have one closed pair that fit to go with my one pair of Birkenstocks that I could get into. Heartburn finally decided to become a regular visitor, though thankfully it was managable with judicious application of Tums and constipation was kept at bay by near daily consumption of pears (much tastier than Tums).
Despite the late-pregnancy discomforts, things were going well as a whole. The only oddity was the speed with which I was gaining weight as I entered the 3rd trimester. I had gained 10lbs in 4 weeks whereas I had gained 12lbs over the course of the first two trimesters total. Rapid weight gain (more than 4lbs in a week) can be an indicator of preeclampsia but my blood pressure was totally normal (120/80) up through my 34 week prenatal visit.
The week after Thanksgiving I had what I thought was a cold -- sinus pressure, sore throat, congestion but fairly mild and with little to no mucousy indication that my body was fighting off a virus. After speaking to my next-door neighbor (who had preeclampsia with her first child), it may have been the beginnings of something much more serious.
At least a dozen people have asked me and I still don't know what made me decide to check my blood pressure on December 9th, but I did. It may have been the fact that the baby wasn't moving as much the previous few days. My aunt thinks my grandmother was speaking to me from heaven. Who knows. All that matters is that it was 145/90-ish, which was so odd for me that I thought our home monitor was broken. My blood pressure had never been above 130/80 in my entire life. The next day (Sunday, December 10th), I checked it again and it was a bit higher. Later in the day, it was higher still. I probably should have called the on-call midwife at that point but I was stubbornly in denial and had convinced myself the monitor was broken. Mark, however, had taken his BP with said monitor and it was normal. My plan was to take my BP again in the morning and then test my urine for protein that night at our final childbirth class (since it is held in an OB office). I already had my 36 week prenatal visit scheduled for the following Wednesday (December 13th). Mark was concerned and reluctant but didn't fight me. He probably should have.
