Flutters of a Rainbow

January 30, 2020

Yesterday, we went in for our amniocentesis. I've been nervous about this for a while since there is a chance, though very small, of a miscarriage or injury to myself and the baby as a result of the procedure. I also run small in my pregnancies and, again, I have an anterior placenta (in the front) so that also adds challenge to the procedure.

Why was going through with this at all? I think mainly due to my age (I'm 41.9) and the heavy shadow of the last pregnancy. During the course of this pregnancy, we've had some scares. One of my blood tests, in this pregnancy, came back showing parvovirus - but then we learned that there are two results for that virus, one that shows its former presence (i.e. you had it in the past) and another that shows its present status of being in your blood (i.e. you have it right now). After some intense research, we discovered that I had had it in the past, though not currently. But in the time it took to comprehend my test results, my anxiety was through the roof and I was practically in tears on the train (always the train).

For those who don't know, parvovirus is a nasty virus for pregnancy and for all living things. Humans get the human strain (B19) of the tiny disease; it causes 5th disease (erythema infectiosum) in kids and, in 10% (or more) of the cases when pregnant women catch it, it causes hydrops fetalis, mainly due to severe fetal anemia, sometimes leading to miscarriage or stillbirth. Currently, there is no treatment or vaccine, though not for lack of trying.

I have no way of knowing when I actually contracted the virus or if it was one of the contributing factors to my loss. Also, my baby's umbilical cord was attached in the wrong place as well, so parvovirus might not have played any role at all in the loss. In the end, it doesn't really matter, does it?

But I digress. Another reason I was okay with doing the amnio is because my doctor would be the one doing it and after being in Israel for four and a half years, I finally found one I really trusted. He'd do it himself with the team in Assuta in Haifa.

I got especially nervous the week before the procedure but late last week (or early this week), I started feeling tiny little flutters inside my uterus. They are a little hard to describe and the only reason I even recognized them is because this is my fifth pregnancy (so weird to say).

See, some of the hardest times during the whole journey to a baby are: (1) the two week wait to see if you got lucky enough to get pregnant; and (2) the first half of the pregnancy until you actually feel what's growing inside you (medievally named "the quickening").

On our hour-long drive up north, I was kinda quiet. Telling myself that my mom had gone through amnios back in the '70s and '80s and everything turned out fine... that it's statistically more likely that something was wrong with the baby than the baby being hurt by the procedure... that Dr. Feldman knew what he was doing... and suddenly, my husband interrupted and told me to look out his window. And there, shining far out over the Mediterranean Sea, emerging from deep greenish gray clouds, was a beautiful Rainbow, saturated in color (though the picture below really doesn't do it justice).

The whole appointment, including the procedure, took about twenty minutes. That's it. A lot of hospital paper to localize the area and three wipe-downs with a LOT of sanitizing alcohol (so cold!). It probably would have taken even shorter had Rainbow not mooned the doctor.

Seriously.

Baby was facing tushy up when the doctor started using the ultrasound wand to figure out where to stick the needle and showed him a cute, tiny tush. It was quite the comic relief when my good-natured doctor said, with a smile, we don't behave like that!

He continued, pushed the baby around a bit to make room, pushed it around a bit more since it didn't like to cooperate (this kid is going to fit smoothly into my family), and finally found a space to insert the needle and withdraw the yellowish fluid (so much!). After he finished, I felt woozy, like when I donate blood, but worse. I sat there and drank water until the worst of it passed and then I became sickly ravenous.

Afterwards, we immediately went for food. Because I felt so sick, I ate verrrry slowly and we finally left the mall and headed for the car. We got back to Netanya just in time to get the boys, come home, and for me to pass out. Essentially, I slept on and off for the entire next two to two and a half days; I was wiped out.

I finally felt like myself again after the weekend but had a lovely bruise in the area of the procedure - especially wonderful since I have to give myself blood thinning shots every night in the same area. Then I waited, again, for the results which were to take 2-4 weeks.

Seriously.

Pregnancy and Narcolepsy: A Tough Combination

I've been pregnant for almost 36 weeks. I'm not sure how to describe my experience with it. For the most part, it hasn't been too physically taxing.

In the first trimester I had an underlying nausea that made it tough for me to eat much. If I did want to eat anything, it was greek salad and cheese. I'd have some days where I was so exhausted I couldn't get out of bed. The second trimester was a little easier. The nausea (mostly) went away, but I still had occasional days where I was so dreadfully tired I couldn't move. One of those days was Wednesday, August 7, 2013 -- the last day where I could have had a chance to spend time with my mom before she suddenly passed away.

Yes, I wish I could have had that time with her, especially because I was told she was quite funny and energetic that day, but I remember very clearly how I felt. There was no way I could have managed it.

The third trimester started off with acid reflux and heartburn, two symptoms I have never before felt in my life. Now I live off of Pepcid Complete. My appetite has been non-existent for eight months, but in the last 3-4 days, I have finally been hungry!

Since I was 7 weeks pregnant, I've had to inject myself nightly with Lovanox, an injectible blood thinner. This is because, five years ago, I had numerous blood clots in my legs and all five lobes of my lungs. I was in the cardiac unit of the hospital for 5+ days before they finally released me. For me, this is one of the most difficult parts of my pregnancy.

Then, a few weeks ago, I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. This shocked me and quite a few other people since I am extremely active, thin, fit, and have only gained about 10-11 pounds my entire pregnancy. I was told that stress could trigger it (nah, I don't have any of that... I'm only dealing with the loss of my mother, moving in with my dad, unpacking, organizing his house, and preparing for baby). Regardless, as a result, I have to test my blood sugars four times a day by pricking my finger. So far, I am able to control my sugars with diet and exercise.

The stress I am controlling with prenatal yoga and gym-time.

At 36 weeks I will have to switch over to Heparin, another blood thinner that has a shorter half-life (they need to induce me at 39 weeks). Good news since it means I'm in the home stretch. Bad news because that means I have to now inject myself twice a day.... I am so entirely over this needle thing. I hated them to begin with, but having to stick myself, in my stomach, with a needle every day really wears on you.

I keep telling myself what my mother told me (she was diabetic): At least you get a souvenir at the end of this.

As bad as the needles are, the lack of sleep trumps.

See, I have mild narcolepsy that was triggered by stress in my last semester of law school. I don't fall asleep during the day; rather, my brain waves don't quite go in the right order when I'm sleeping at night and I suffer from EDS (Excessive Daytime Sleepiness). Laugh all you want at this, but my sleep is only 25% effective. My last good night's sleep was in October 2006.

It's a mostly controllable problem (usually with an extremely expensive orphan medication called Xyrem). I say mostly controllable because, best case scenario, I wake up 2-4 times a night instead of 6-8 times nightly. Ambien is a second choice drug. I can't take either one while pregnant.

As a result, I have slept horribly the entire pregnancy. I am constantly either tired or exhausted. People blame it on the pregnancy, the growing uterus applying pressure on my bladder, the growing of a human being, etc. All of that is true. But my fatigue is multiplied and people just don't get it.

Last night I woke up at 3am, 4:30am, 5:45am, and 6:30am. I woke up for one of my twice-weekly doctor appointment and cried from exhaustion. I lost control and cried again at the doctor's appointment, and that's when my midwife took pity on me. Even though it is a Schedule C drug, they seem to be concerned with the possibility of addiction more than a harmful effect on baby.

And I need sleep. If I go into labor being this tired, I'm not going to be able to have a natural childbirth, or much energy to do any pushing whatsoever. This level of tired isn't supposed to come about before the baby, only after.

People don't understand. They even joke around that baby is training me for when it'll be around, begging me for milk every 90-120 minutes around the clock. I don't find this to be funny, but maybe that's because I'm sleep deprived.

One thing I'd like people to know: THIS IS NOT PRACTICE. This is Narcolepsy.

The average American sleeps less than 7 hours a night. For me, assuming I sleep through the night (I don't), that means it feels like less than two hours of sleep. Each night.

Nothing in life is normal when you're overtired. You can't think, can't remember things, can't handle simple tasks as well, and you aren't any fun to be around. For the most part, I've gotten used to the lack of sleep, but I reached my limit. I'm not going to take it every night, but I'm sure hoping the Ambien will help - even a little. If not for my sake, then for my husband's and my baby's.