It’s been a little while since my last real update, and I hope you’ll forgive me. We’ve had family staying with us for the last week or so, and my computer time has been really limited. But it feels good to have had a little break and reconnect with the people we love.
I have so many photos and stories from the last eight days, and I can’t wait to share them, but at the moment there are bigger issues weighing on my mind. Last Monday we had to go back to the doctor so I could be re-tested for the infection that they found during my last set of tests. Because I had been put on a quite dangerous medication, I was already quite nervous, and I was just really thankful that we got through it with no ill side effects. I was keeping my fingers crossed that the infection was eradicated so that I could move on from worrying about it and focus on worrying about the effects the meds may have had on our unborn baby!
On Tuesday, my phone rang, and the caller ID said it was my doctor’s office. I braced myself. But even though it wasn’t good news, it wasn’t the news I’d been worried about. Instead, I was told I had a bout of thrush, which came to light during the humiliating pap smear I had. Since I’d already realised this, I had already treated it myself, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.
On Wednesday, my phone rang, and the caller ID again said it was my doctor’s office. Again, I braced myself. And again, it was news which could have been better but wasn’t a big deal. This time, they were worried about my diabetes and wanted to make sure I had a glucometer to measure my blood sugars. They planned to call me in a prescription for one.
On Thursday, I prepared for another call. The last time had taken three days, so I figured if I was going to get the bad news, today would be the day. But there was no call. All seemed fine and dandy.
On Friday, I told Mark I was sure everything was fine because if they didn’t call, it must mean the infection was gone. He had his doubts, and more than that, he was kind of annoyed. Given all the drama surrounding the infection/meds, he wanted them to call me even if the infection WAS gone, just so we had peace of mind.
Unfortunately, later on Friday afternoon, the phone rang again. And it was the doctor. I braced myself but really really hoped that it was them calling to say all was well.
The infection is still there, and I must go on ANOTHER course of the scary antibiotics to ensure that we get rid of it. They said that it wasn’t as strong this time, so hopefully the meds would do the trick.
I admit that I cried. Last time, the doctor called me herself and told me that it was scary, but all would be well. This time, I knew the REAL risks to me and to the baby, and I knew enough to be really scared. The longer you are on this medicine, the worse the risks.
Since we had big plans for the weekend which included lots of time in the sunshine (completely out of the question when on the medicine!), I decided to wait until our guests had left before starting it up.
Which brings me to today. I’ve got a bottle of pills, and I am scared to death to take them. But I am scared to death not to take them. I am worried about the fact that I’ve got a heart condition which SHOULD mean I can’t take these pills. I’m worried about what might happen to the baby short term and long term if I take them. I worry about what will happen to the baby if I DON’T take them.
Last time, even though I was afraid, I felt I was doing the right thing. But this time, I can’t help but be terrified….
I just hit the second trimester. I’ll be 15 weeks on Thursday, and I can’t stop thinking about what will happen if I lose the baby. Can I handle it? Or what if we have our 20 week scan and find out that the baby is malformed or disabled or something? Our whole lives will change significantly. Or what if we think everything is okay and don’t find out until the baby is born that something is wrong?
All those normal pregnancy fears have quadrupled just because of the three little pills in this bottle.
And I feel utterly alone.