On Tuesday Jeff and I met with a maternal fetal specialist who focuses on clotting disorders, hoping to get some insight in how we will proceed in our next pregnancy. Holy cow.
We had been given a head's up from my OB and from a friend of ours who has worked with him that he wasn't going to be a really warm, joke-y type of guy. He was actually very kind and even made a few jokes. He is clearly very smart. So smart that he forgets that we did not go to medical school. I kept having to stop him and say, "Okay, so what does THAT mean?"
Before we went in, we figured that we would be hearing about how I will need to go on blood thinning injections. While that was part of it, there was also some new information that was hard for me to digest. He wanted to test me for some additional clotting disorders to assess risk factors. As he was talking through the tests, he mentioned a KB test, then said, "I'm sure it won't show anything, it would just mean that you had a presence of fetal cells in your blood. I had a woman come in and her fetus had transferred all of his blood volume into her body."
Jeff mentioned that at the hospital we had been told that there were fetal cells in my bloodwork. The doctor said that there is always a presence, but we told him that we were led to believe it was a higher than average amount. He called a nurse to request the test results, telling us, "I'm still sure it's nothing. I've only seen 5 cases in 25 years, and I might see 2 more before I retire in 10 years." As I've mentioned, the odds are rarely in my favor. My name would absolutely be drawn for the Hunger Games.
Of course I was his 6th case. Approximately 2/3 of Emma's blood had transferred back into my body as a result of a fetal maternal hemorrhage. I had come to terms with a blood clot being the cause, and now I was being told that I had a clotting disorder that may or may not have been a factor, plus this new mystery thing that is extremely rare (2% of stillbirths are caused by fmh). I stared at him for a minute and finally said, "I feel like I have a lot of things working against me right now. If there's a small chance that it can happen to me, it seems to be happening." He looked a little confused, and Jeff jumped in to say, "I think she's looking for some reassurances."
The doctor nodded and said, "Look, you have a lot more positives than negatives going for you here. We're going to monitor you closely, I'll induce you at 37 weeks next time, and we'll know what to look for. I can't tell you it won't happen again, because it's biology, and I can't predict that. I can tell you that it's rare for these things to reoccur. And it's important for you to know that there's absolutely nothing you could have done. Nothing."
I left that meeting feeling oddly defeated and upset. I'm not sure why. I really think it was a result of having so much information presented, and learning this new thing that terrified me to my core. When I thought it was a blood clot, I still thought I could have done something. Now I found out it wouldn't have mattered when I got to the hospital, the outcome was inevitable. Even if I could somehow do the impossible and go back in time, I couldn't save her. There was a finality that I had a hard time accepting.
That night, Jeff and I talked a lot, and he lifted my spirits with his optimism and confidence. I'm still terrified of what will happen when I get pregnant again, but I know that with the amazing team we have behind us, we'll be well taken care of and they will do everything they can to help us. I'd really like to stop being part of the 1% sometime soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment