After the cold turned into a sinus infection, the other symptoms I developed finally started to uncover themselves as the antibiotic cleared up my nose.
I was tired and groggy. Didn't think anything of it. My body fluids changed, but I blamed it on having an infection.
I got itchy all over. Well, it's cold and dry, and I haven't been on an antibiotic in years so maybe it's just a little reaction.
Saw my OB as scheduled and left feeling like all was well.
And then it wasn't. I got sicker. I got WAY itchier. I got labs done. I got anxious because the labs took forever to come back. I got educated on what I thought might be going on. I got validation on Friday when I finally went in to see my OB again, my labs were off and he made the call to send me to the hospital for observation.
We have a diagnosis, treatment, and a plan for delivery. All is well. Uh, except for the part where I want to rip my own flesh off at night because it itches so bad.
But what I REALLY sat down to say is that this whole situation, though uncomfortable and at times frustrating, has never once been scary.
I have had a feeling all along that something was going to go "wrong" during this pregnancy. I wasn't paranoid. I believed the doctors and nurses when they measured, weighed, observed, and documented my progress as "exactly right on track" and "perfect for where you are." I never felt nervous- just certain that there would be some kind of obstacle to overcome.
I made it to 35 weeks. All was cozy and I wasn't quite to the point where I felt I had earned the right to want it to be OVER...At that point there was very little risk even if I were to go into labor prematurely.
The 36th week was when it all went down. And even still, the treatment plan includes delivery at 37 weeks at which point she is considered "term" and will not need any interventions unless she presents any signs of distress. No testing or medication is necessary for her to be perfectly healthy at delivery.
Aside from the emotional and logistical aspects of having a complication at the end of pregnancy, there's always the financial side to deal with.
And here we come to the point that ties it all together. IF I had not had to resign early from my position where I had commercial health insurance, and IF I had not previously lost my job and applied for coverage through Medicaid, we'd be paying for all of this. But as it is, everything was in place and active. All of my uncommon prescriptions, my multiple trips to the hospital for monitoring, my rare blood tests, and ultimately the delivery are covered in full.
The Lord knew what He was doing. And I had a feeling this was going to happen. I'm also grateful for the example of my older brother who, while he was in college had the faith along with his wife to start their family despite not having an income. They also had help with medical coverage and when his firstborn had to be delivered at 24 weeks and receive months of medical treatment, it was all covered. That experience taught me not to be ashamed of getting help. It taught me that when we do what is right, and we do what we can, and we do our best, the Lord will guide us to be in the best situation we can be.
I know He did that with us, and it is that trust in Him that has carried me through the last week without fear or worry or stress. We are in good hands.
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