WARNING: Heavy post. Don’t read on if you’re fragile, preggies or ttc.
Most of the old guard here know that I had a scarily scary health episode last year. Flu virus attacked heart and heart muscle partially succumbed.
I am on the mend and hope to be around for many years to come still. At my worst, my heart function was 23%. As of my last check-up, I was at 34%. Ideally I should be at 40 – 45 to keep the vultures away.
Downside of all of this though is that I am not allowed to put any pressure on heart. No running, no physically demanding activities and no more babies.
Before the heart episode I always said that Thomas would most probably be my only child as I want to give him the best shot in life that we can. After heart episode and being told no more babies, we were still fine about it but had bits of sadness that it was no definite. No maybes.
We had to wait until February for check-up with cardio to confirm that my heart can definitely not handle another pregnancy and then make the decision to either spay me or neuter husband.
Unbeknown to us… a little invader invaded my uterus at the end of January and made him/herself very comfortable. Once I came out of hospital after my diagnosis, I had to stop the Pill as well because of the risk of clotting. We were using condoms but you know mos…
So when my ‘monthlies’ started at the end of March (the duration of my monthlies had been very erratic), I still had no inkling of what was about to happen to me. Something about the blood was just not looking right. I called my gynae and tried to explain best I could what I was seeing and feeling. I was in pain.
Gynae asked me to come see him and proceeded to tell me that I was pregnant and spotting! Imagine my shock. Anyhoo. I went for a scan and they were able to date the pregnancy and also tell that it was no longer viable. He couldn’t find an anaesthetist who wanted to take on my dodgy heart so he sent me home while he tried to find a brave anaesthetist.
Hmmm. Not fun. Cried my eyes out when my boys dropped me off that night. Thomas had just settled down after my previous hospital stay so we didn’t want to freak him out again. We just told him that I had so much work that I needed to sleep there that night.
A huge part of me was scared that I would not wake up from this conscious sedation thing, another part was glad that I would at least not have to go through with this pregnancy with my death being a very loud and present danger and another part deep, deep down in my being was crying for this little person I would never get to meet.
Until now the bit of me that was glad to still be alive and not risk her life with what my cardio called an off-the-charts high risk pregnancy, has been in charge. A month after this my one SIL gave birth. This weekend my other SIL gave birth. Now the bit of me that was buried so deep down in me has decided she needs to talk and be listened to, hence this post.
She’s sad, very sad. She’s alive. But sad.
Thank you for listening.