containment

Since wandering down this totally bizzarely twisted path of my health, a number of questions and emotions have started at first just to arise, but now it feels like when you get caught in a website that won't let you out and new windows keep loading at a frantic rate and your mind gets completely tired as you try to close them down and get back to what you were searching for in the first place.

I am not sure of anything right now and for the past twelve years, doctors haven't been either. Being borderline everything or anything is a challenge. Obviously I don't ever want the bad news of ending up over the border and facing an illness, but when you are borderline there doesn't seem to be much for you.

A few examples in my life are these weird things that suggest there might be some kind of auto-immune issues like having pericarditis starting at age 10 -- which has been with me ever since and ended me up in the hospital for a couple week long stints. Andre thought this was a pickup line when we were dating and he was finishing his residency, until after Maya was born and I had an attack and he drove me, with my head out the window, to U of C where he was in his cardiology fellowship to show off my "rub" (which is often hard to hear) to all his friends at work. His nerdy doctor chance to have show and tell at work : )

The second suggestion that my immune system may be wonky is unexplained preterm labors -- three of them. Thank God for Northwestern's amazing NICU and the March of Dimes and Maya's awesome feisty spirit which she needed being born a 26 weeker weighing 930 grams (less than two pounds). After that, the pregnancies with Caroline (3 months of totally serious bedrest because you've learned the hard way what a preemie's life is like after 3 months in a NICU). She was only two weeks early, although I dilated at exactly the same time with her -- spent some time in the hospital praying praying praying that we could hold out and hold out we did. I was dancing to Zydeco music when freed from bedrest after hitting 38 weeks and out she came (in the hospital, of course).

When I had been in the hospital while pregnant with Caroline, having dilated at the exact same time as having Maya, I cried, scared of reliving what we had gone through before. It was such a funky situation anyway. Andre had just left for a conference in SF, it was my birthday and I had my weekly visit with my amazing OB/GYN and as she examined me, she looked up with tears and said I needed to check myself into the hospital -- I was dilating. I went over to Northwestern and went to the registration desk.

Me -- I was sent by Dr. M -- I'm dilating. I handed her a sheet from my doctor.

Lady (looking over the sheet begins with a few questions) :

When did you go into labor with your first child?

Me: 26 weeks

When is your birthday

Me: January 16, 1970

Lady (looks up at me realizing its my stinking birthday and I'm here at 26 weeks pregnant and we are worried that I am in preterm labor). Oh my gosh, it your birthday today.

Me: Yep.

They gave me the magical surfactant (a miracle drug that was developed by the March of Dimes that speeds up the development of the baby's lungs). I waited. An OB comes in and we talk. I cry and tell her I always wanted to have three children and she, despite being a great doctor, has a flat bedside manner and says plainly, "I don't think that's going to happen."

I was able to go home. I cannot even tell you what meds they gave me or if the labor just never happened. I just slowly started to dilate and continued to dilate, but at a crawling versus rapid rate and was able to go home under the strictest warning that bedrest meant not moving. I didn't budge. I was also given crazy high levels of progesterone shots every week that brought with it a sharp headache that lasted a few days. The headache wore off and I would have another few days before I got my shot again. Good times.

I had the best help in the world. Andre was in his fellowship -- we had a miracle and at the time fiery ginger toddler and ended up hiring an angel named Dana to help us out. With the additional support of our family, we worked it out.

We moved to GR

After inconclusive testing of my uterus, etc., and Caroline making it to 38 weeks, the doctors were comfortable with us having another child. Maybe Maya was just a fluke and who knows why I dilated early. Pregnancy 3 went great until 20 weeks I began to dilate. Four months of strict bedrest, shots, the same gig, although now I had two little kids and a husband that was just starting his career. My mother, who just recovered from a surgery for colon cancer, lived with us -- working in Grand Haven during the day, and helping us at night. We hired two amazing women that became an extension of our family, Erin and Gwynnie. With our team, we made it to 35 weeks. My mom, one of my best friends (who happened to be on call covering my doc when I went into labor) and Andre were there with me and it was a beautiful moment. We now had our three girls.

Life is crazy with little kids (crazy in a very blessed way) but crazy nonetheless. I was a bit worn out after the bedrest, atrophied muscles, tired, so we kept on with the support team to help out and we plugged on in life. Not long after Ella was born, sadly, my mother's cancer came back in a raging way. Soon, we were in another battle that would last for a few years. This time, the battle was lost.

After our last pregnancy we decided a permanent birth control method was necessary. Since I could no longer have any more children, I was okay with it being me. My doctor had sold me on this amazing new birth control device that was totally easy, very safe, no downtime, etc. I was fine with it. The device was called Essure.

Essure ended up my worse decision. The procedure was awful, I had a lot of pain afterward, and soon after having it implanted, I began to have random issues that seemed to come out of the blue. I was trying to care for my mother, but I was exhausted. I was trying to take care of my kids, but I was exhausted. I was trying to be a wife, but I was exhausted. I also was trying to start a new life, finally, in a new place. I thought my struggle was depression, which was a constant battle to contain. I woke up every day wondering how I would get through it and yet I knew there was no other choice but to get through it. There was no other option.