The Elimination of First World Problems (Again)

For the last few weeks, my toenails have been on my mind. I painted them myself a few weeks ago, but it was, uh, challenging. Just put a beach ball under your shirt and try to see past it; then you'll know what I was up against. Now they are chipped, and I can't paint them at all (the whole nine-months-pregnant thing). Yesterday I had a routine-for-me ultrasound scheduled, so I decided to squeeze in a pedicure afterwards. I have probably had less than ten pedicures in my whole life-I'm a DIY kind of person when it comes to beauty-so the pedicure was going to be quite a luxury.

When one's child dies, one's entire world view shifts. As the title suggests, first world problems vanish. For me, some of them have returned since Weston died. But I am a different person now, so I'm fairly certain that I will mostly either not experience or not care about the majority of my former first world problems anymore.

For me, I guess, fretting over ugly toenails at nine months pregnant is a first world problem that returned. Just as quickly as it returned, though, it has disappeared again.

Yesterday's ultrasound was the last of my growth ultrasounds. Due to my severe placental problems with Weston, my OB ordered these extra ultrasounds every four weeks to make sure baby's growth is on track. Everything has been perfect, growth-wise and anatomy-wise, so far.

So I had the ultrasound, was told baby is measuring about one week ahead, and waited a few minutes for the ultrasound tech to confirm the results with the maternal-fetal-medicine physician. There was some back and forth communication, more calculations on the computer, and eventually the tech returned with the MFM to re-measure baby's heart. It was probably around that point that I forgot about my toenails.

It looked enlarged, but probably because baby was at a weird angle. No big deal, we can send you to a pediatric cardiologist if it will make you feel better, but it's not necessary, etc. Then one more measurement was taken, looks were exchanged, and I was promptly referred to the pediatric cardiologist, "just to be cautious."

One hour later I found myself at the medical tower at St. Joseph's Hospital, site of Weston's birth, life, and death, in the same building where my former MFM had his office. Another ninety minutes after that (spent in a tiny room with an ultrasound tech, nurse practitioner, cardiologist, Shannon, and myself), and we had added the anatomy and function of the human heart, specifically of our baby's heart, to our areas of medical expertise.

In a nutshell, our baby's heart is enlarged; more specifically, the right ventricle of his heart is enlarged. This enlargement is apparently causing slight decrease in heart function and signifies stress on his heart. It is NOT a defect-the anatomy of his heart is perfect-and there are no rhythm or circulation problems. At the time of the cardiac exam, his heart rate was slightly elevated as well.

Many things can cause stress on a baby's heart. However, none of those reasons was present on the ultrasound screen. I don't know if that is good or bad. The cardiologist said he'd like to repeat the scan next week but that my OB would make the final call regarding care from that point. We were reassured that no one had been in a rush to do anything yet. Even the MFM had originally suggested a Monday appointment with the cardiologist. So we went home with instructions to wait for a follow-up call for further recommendations.

An hour later, my OB's partner called with instructions to present to the hospital for continuous monitoring over the weekend with a repeat cardiac scan on Monday. After that, everything is up in the air. I do know that, if his heart is worse, he will probably be delivered by C-section then. What I do not know is whether I will get to go home if there has been no change.

It is also my understanding that cardiac issues are the most common newborn problems, and most are easily corrected. Also, some people just have larger hearts than others. This is not entirely reassuring to me anymore, because he specifically has an enlarged ventricle. And, some babies' heart issues just disappear, either before or after they are born. The sense I get is that, if this problem does not go away, baby will be delivered sooner rather than later, will spend some time in the NICU getting tested, and then go home with us.

So here I am. I'm in a room like the one where I spent eight terrifying hours before Weston was born. I had to ask to switch rooms to one that is flip-flopped from the pre-Weston room because, well, terrible flashbacks.

I have already seen three of my former nurses, which makes me happy. Two of them were/are my current nurses, and the other one will be on Monday.

Since I have been on continuous monitoring, it has become evident that baby's heart rate is NOT elevated. An elevated heart rate is another sign of stress. His heart rate has remained steady, and there are no other indications that he is in any distress. I can unhook the monitors myself to use the restroom, etc., and I was told earlier today that I can even walk around the hospital without any monitors a couple times a day.

I am trying not to let my mind go where it inevitably wants to go, and I'm doing OK so far. My entire medical team is quite calm, so I'm holding onto that. On the other hand, (1) my child died, and (2) there is something not right with my baby's HEART.

My baby is not quite full-term: one more week until we hit that milestone. Fortunately, medical risks that accompany prematurity would be minimal if he has to be born in the upcoming week.

Caroline is doing relatively well. She was quite upset to hear that I am in the hospital until she arrived last night for a visit. Then she was just disappointed that the baby is STILL in my tummy! She's having fun today so far, and she and Shannon will come visit later this afternoon. But she remembers this room as "the room you were in when Weston was in your tummy."

Despite the cautiously optimistic outcome, this experience is quite trying. It almost feels like a cruel joke that we are in this position again. On Monday, I want to see a regular-sized ventricle and heart, a fully functioning heart, and a medical team scratching their collective heads as a result. And I want to go HOME and come back in a few weeks for a regular labor and delivery. And maybe even squeeze in a pedicure in the meantime.

Thank you for all the prayers, love, and support. Please keep it coming.