I am no longer a freak show.
I had my lab work done on Monday and received the results at the doctor on Tuesday. My liver enzymes and platelet count are back to normal human levels. To give you an idea of where I was at with both of these when I was at my very worst in the hospital, my liver enzymes were over 400 and my platelets were below 60. Compare those numbers to the "normal" levels I am at now (liver enzymes are 16 and platelets are over 300) and you can see what the fuss was on the fateful day Jackson was evicted from my uterus.
A wise doctor told me on my second day of bed rest to stay off the internet. One of the goals we had at the time was to keep me calm so my blood pressure was low enough to maintain a healthy environment for my unborn child. Using the excessive amount of time I had to research what could eventually happen to me was not going to be good for my mental health. After all, my labs only showed slightly elevated liver enzymes, lower platelet counts than normal, and no protein in my urine. We were all hoping that I could sit in the hospital for a month and deliver Jackson much closer to his due date.
Despite my efforts to remain calm and ignorant, concerned friends and family were investigating my illness and diagnosing me on their own. I was informed that I had something called HELLP syndrome. This is a life-threatening condition and quite frankly, terrifying to think about. From the limited information I allowed myself to overhear, I still resisted the urge to look it up. Part of my doctor's concern was the plethora of bad information floating around cyberspace. The other part of the concern was that I in fact did not have HELLP syndrome just yet. I was under intense observation just in case I did develop more than just mild preeclampsia and this was most likely the next rung on the ladder of my preeclampsia condition.
At that point the scariest thing (other than being on bed rest for a month) was the thought that I was going to get more sick before I got better. The only cure for preeclampsia is delivery, and I was going to hold that baby in until I could no longer physically be pregnant. It was not Jackson's time yet at only 32 weeks. However, it was not likely that we were going to term. The doctors immediately gave me steroid shots to help his lungs develop faster than they would on his own in anticipation of his pre-term arrival.
I made it five full days on bed rest. My labs were slowly getting worse, but bed rest seemed to really suspend the big event nicely. I was warned by multiple doctors (you have a different doctor every day) that my condition could worsen quickly, but we still thought for some reason we were going home and I would serve my bed rest sentence on my own couch. Oh how ignorant we were.
On day six the severe upper abdominal pain was back and I knew something was seriously wrong at 5 a.m. when the phlebotomist came to take my blood. My labs did not look that much worse at that point so It took until 2 p.m. for me to finally convince my nurse and doctor to take action. More labs were ordered and all hell broke loose. My liver enzymes went from being in the 70's to the 400's in a matter of hours. My doctor later told me my sweet nurse that day nearly had a panic attack when my labs came back and ran into her office yelling "We have to do something!". I loved that nurse.
Liver rupture is one of the ways mothers are critically or mortally injured from HELLP syndrome, so looking back I can understand now why I had to endure an ultrasound on my liver while we were waiting for my platelet count to come back from the lab. However, at the time I was highly inconvenienced when they were pressing down on my stomach where it hurt so bad to see what was going on inside. I am very fortunate that my liver was somehow holding up okay despite the ridiculous enzyme count.
The other way mothers die from HELLP is stroke. I feel like this was where I was in the most mortal danger. My blood pressure almost immediately shot up once my labs came back and I was dealing with 200/100 pressure until I delivered. I have never felt a headache like that and I have no way to explain it other than physically feeling my blood pulse through my brain and the impending feeling my head may explode. It was so scary and I honestly felt like I was going to have a stroke at any minute. I have no idea what allowed my body to endure that blood pressure for as long as it did (at least 45 minutes that I was aware of) but I am so thankful that I made it through.
The lab was not working fast enough to get my platelet counts back to the anesthesiologist. He needed to know if I had enough platelets to give me an epidural and allow me to be awake for the birth of my child. Also, that was the only way that Colin was going to get to be in the room as well. As I listened to him get more and more worked up that it was taking so long, I had to find a way to remain calm. Keep in mind, they were having conversations with me about bleeding to death if my platelets were too low and a hysterectomy if anything went wrong. Finally my platelet lab came back and it was "night night" time. There was no way I was going to be awake for the birth of my child. I would have been very disappointed if I wasn't busy willing myself to stay alive.
As I was lying on the operating table waiting for them to put me out of my misery, the final blow came. The catheter had to go in and there was no time to numb me. Imagine trying to keep your brain from exploding from ridiculously high blood pressure and hearing that news. Not a good time. I remember focusing on the health of my unborn child and I knew if I could just stay alive he would have a good chance. After what seemed like forever, it was time to sleep. The nurse who was previously stroking my head and reassuring me that I was doing great basically choked me to sleep. Apparently that is how they put you under; as the anesthesia is going in, they put pressure on your throat. I have no idea what this is all about, but it feels like you are being choked unconscious. At that point I was just happy to be put out of my misery.
Once I woke up, it was time for the magnesium sulfate (aka: satan's juice) to be circulated through my veins to bring my blood pressure back down to acceptable human levels. I was not allowed to eat or drink during the 24 hours I had this poison injected into my IV. All I had for relief was a morphine drip and ice chips. I got to the point I begged anyone on the hospital staff as well as my own family for more ice chips. I was so thirsty and hungry I think I was going a little crazy. Keep in mind, the last thing I consumed was a GI cocktail because everyone was convinced I just had a stomach ache. After sucking down that chalky nastiness my labs came in and my water was promptly removed. It was extremely unfortunate timing.
Despite my misery during the 24 hour magnesium sulfate hell, including extreme hunger, dehydration, and my eyes rolling around in my head, I had no idea how bad I actually felt until they turned the poison off. The first thing I had was saltines and Sierra Mist Natural, and it was the best moment of my life. Keep in mind, I had finally been allowed to hold my child for the first time mere hours earlier, but I was so drugged up I thought soda and crackers was the best thing I had going for me. I promptly ordered a meal (grilled cheese, green salad, milk, and a peanut butter cookie) and all was right in the world again.
Each day got better and I was finally able to ask with confidence if it was time to be discharged. My surgery was on Tuesday and I was discharged on Saturday. I was pretty nervous to leave because I would no longer have around the clock care. I think I was really worried that I would get sick again and there would be no one there to save me. When you are knocking on death's door, it is pretty convenient to have medical staff right there to fix everything. What was I going to do if it happened again at home? The nurse who discharged me reassured me that chances were slim that I would have postpartum preeclampsia, but there was a chance.
I am pretty sure my blood pressure is back down now partially because I finally got my labs back and I am a normal human being again. I am no longer the freak show that causes panic and alarm in the birthing center. I have lab work that looks like a normal, healthy human being. It is such a relief to think that other than trying to keep my new baby safe, I have nothing to worry about.
I am not writing this post for sympathy. I merely needed to make sure I don't forget this experience. They say you forget pregnancy and giving birth and that is why people have multiple children. I think I need to read this post several times before considering getting pregnant again.
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