Postpartum Story (Jacob)

Warning for all you squeamish folk out there: there will be blood. .

When Jacob was about 2 weeks old, I woke up with unexplained pain in my left hip and groin to the point that I couldn’t walk without help. After two days of on and off pain, it got so bad that I ended up in the ER at 4 in the morning and called my Mom in NY to see if she could come out and help with Jacob because I couldn’t take care of him.

Over the next 3 weeks my mom (props to Jojo!) did most of the day to day caretaking of Jacob while I tried to rest and visited the chiropractor and tried to figure out the mystery of this random pain, which kept me up most nights while Jacob slept. During this time I bought not one, but TWO Magic Bullets (Buy One Get One Free if you act NOW!) and became addicted to the Food Network and Rachael Ray. When Jacob was almost six weeks, I found an orthopedist who ordered an MRI which would later show a bulging disc. The good news was that I was starting to feel better, and my mom went home.

I started passing large clots the day that my mom left, literally passing the first one in the half hour before she left for the airport. Since the postpartum bleeding had slowed down and was now increasing, I was scared and called my OB. The office wasn’t too concerned, so I felt kind of foolish. As the evening wore on, I continued to pass golf ball sized clots, which steadily increased in size. Finally, we drove to ER at about 2 am, the third such trip in six weeks.

As soon as I stepped out of the car in the ER parking lot (what a polite uterus I have--NOT ON THE JETTA!!), I felt a whoosh of blood pour down my legs, like someone had pulled a string on a bucket in my uterus. Not one to give up appearances, my first thought was, good thing I’m wearing black pants. I walked into the ER, my slippers leaving Rorschachs on the cream colored linoleum and had a flash of guilt over the mess I was making. After I got on the examining table, I continued to pass more clots and it felt like I was part of a horror movie. I can only imagine how Josh felt, sitting next to our sleeping 6-week old while witnessing clot after clot coming out of his wife’s body.

The ultrasound technician did a scan and found nothing, so they sent me home and told me to see my OB. Since my OB was on vacation, I saw Dr. G, who was the same backup when my Dr was on vacation after my C-Section the next day. When I got to her office at 11 am the next morning, she saw a huge clot blocking my cervix, and sent me back to the hospital next door for surgery to remove it.

I went into surgery at about 1:30 pm, where they did a D&C (dilation & curettage), which is where they dilate your cervix and scrape your uterus clean. I was already dilated about 3-4 cm (much faster than with Jacob!), my body had gone back into labor because there was something still there.

When they removed the clot, 800 ccs of blood came out, a little under 2 pints, which I’m told is about 25% of my blood volume, a factoid I was very glad not to know at the time. They ultimately found that a piece of placenta had been left behind after my C-Section, and that was what had been causing so much havoc on my body.

 Dr. G was very apologetic and Monday Morning Quarterbacking her choice to not give me a postpartum scan when I had the uterine infection. I have to say I have no ill will towards either doctor that treated me. They made the best choices that they could, I received good care, and a heartfelt apology goes a long way.

I hated being back in the hospital. I hadn't been apart from Jacob, and after Josh and he left for the night, I cried myself to sleep. I was so afraid and alone, but in shock at what had just happened. That night was probably the lowest point for me, watching my family leave. Now that I was on the mend and feeling safe, my mind finally let me image their life without me.

After that night in the hospital, things improved dramatically. Luckily I didn't need a transfusion and got to go home Saturday morning. That Saturday and Sunday I was tired as my body rebuilt its iron stores, but most of my physical ailments were gone (except for the bulging disc, but even that felt better), and the nice part is that I was so happy to be physically able to take care of my son that I didn’t care about being up in the middle of the night. If I was up, it was because of him, not me, and that was an unexpected joy. I also stopped thinking about what happened to me and put it away in a box, one that I am now trying to slowly unwrap as I gear up for Keiki.

The phrase that goes in and out of my head is this: I could have died. Every time this phrase comes up, it wraps around me like a boa constrictor until I push it down and back into the box. Don’t be silly. You’re such a drama queen. People have been through worse. Whether or not these things are valid, the fact is that when I walked into the ER that last time with blood streaming down my legs, it’s very likely that I was a few bad decisions away from death, and facing that truth is what drives my current fear and indecision regarding Keiki’s birth.

I'm sharing this to try and loosen the power that this has over me. What happened to me was scary and potentially life-threatening, but I made it. I made it to my Dr.’s office before passing that large clot and losing all that blood at home, in my sleep or someplace else where I couldn’t have gotten immediate help. I recovered and was able to care for my son. I am able to carry another healthy baby, and I am willing to work through all this shit, no matter how scary it is. I am so grateful that I am here with my lovely family about to be expanded, which makes it feel all the more selfish to keep up this loop in my head. And yet, I feel that if I can express it, however crazy or self-indulgent that feels, I can let go of it. I can stop thinking about how I could have died, and remember that I didn’t.