Hello, pre-eclampsia. You were NOT invited to this party.
So, I was in Boulder. With a crazy high blood pressure that got me stuck in a hospital. They kept me overnight to monitor me, and Saturday evening gave me the news that I have “mild pre-eclampsia.” I had a few too many high blood pressure readings, and 325mg of protein in my urine (the cut off is 300). The doctor was incredibly nice and informative, and told me she would happily release me from the hospital as long as I promised to get the hell out of Colorado. Since pre-eclampsia can get much worse (hello, liver & kidney failure! hello, stroke & coma!) really quickly, if I stayed for the second week of training and something happened, I would end up having my baby in Boulder. Without the Lumberjack. No fucking thanks.
So I went back to the hotel, cried myself to sleep, woke up Sunday morning and flew home. Where I proceeded to cry on the Lumberjack for a few more hours.
Up next? More crying! We saw our midwife Monday, and learned the heartbreaking news that I can’t birth there anymore. Since I have an official diagnosis of pre-eclampsia, they can’t let me deliver there. I have to go to a hospital. And I KNOW that the goal is a baby. I KNOW that I need to be healthy. I KNOW that hospital births happen all the time and are fine and everyone gets out alive and un-traumatized and above all else, I know how lucky I am to be able to be pregnant in the first place. I get that, I really do.
But fuck, I am so disappointed and sad. I was born on a futon in the living room. I have grown up proud of that story, and have always known that I would give birth the same way. I’ve been meeting with my midwife for months, and LOVE her, and have established an amazing bond. I’ve been getting all my pre-natal care in the actual room where I would give birth – I’ve had so many amazing experiences in there, I’ve seen the Lumberjack’s face light up about our baby in there, I’ve been filling that room for MONTHS with love and energy, knowing that those are the walls that will surround us when our marriage becomes a family.
I know everything’s going to be fine, but it’s not going to be what I hoped for. And I’m just so SAD about. However, yes, I understand that this is an excellent introduction to parenting.
So, now I’m on fucking bedrest. Working from home, monitoring my pee & blood pressure daily. Eating 100g of protein daily, drinking 100oz of water. Keeping track of everything I consume, lying down as much as possible, etc. You better believe I’m going to guilt-trip the fuck out of this kid one day.