Pregnancy Recap

I found out on may 16th 2023 that I was pregnant with my third child, Scarlett. I had spent the 3 years prior begging, crying, and praying for this sweet baby whose soul I was convinced I felt connected to and knew that I was designed to bring into this world. I did not have fertility issues, but my husband was just not on board. He felt very content and complete with the two daughters we already had, and so began a very polarizing journey and emotionally-charged topic of contention between us. The discussion was ongoing for three years, and it only became more heated as time went on. As we all know at this point, fate was my side, and so there I ended up, on may 16th, with a positive pregnancy test. A moment I fantasized about in the most extreme and dire way for three whole years. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was so beyond ecstatic and so eager to document every part of this journey, but things didn’t go the way I had envisioned. I ended up not touching this blog ever since. I couldn’t. I found myself in a continuous state of trauma that ended up lasting for much of my pregnancy …

Not even a week after I found out I was pregnant, I began to suffer from dysautonimia and POTS. This caused me to have debilitating cardiac episodes that included arrhythmias, heart palpitations, body temperature dysregulation, digestive issues, and blood pressure swings. The symptoms that accompanied this were terrifying and unbearable. Each episode I suffered through felt like an emergency and like I was facing imminent death. These episodes completely took me out, and oftentimes lasted for hours on end. This was, of course, thrown on top of every single first trimester pregnancy symptom you could possibly name. I quickly became a shell of myself, and most days it took everything in me just to function enough to care for my kids. There were lots of days I couldn’t function at all. Things got so bad that there came a point where I was scared to go anywhere or do anything. I was frightened to be alone with my kids in case an episode came on. I was afraid to drive. I lost all trust in my body, and was constantly convinced I was dying. These issues caused so much stress in my home. On top of this, we had bought a house in Florida, with plans to make that our primary residence. We scheduled the move for late August, in my 16th week of pregnancy. Throwing a major move on top of all this was the hit that nearly sunk my battle ship. Neither my husband or I had ever lived outside of Long Island before. I had never moved away from my mother before. Neither of our kids were happy about the move, and both of them struggled a lot with the adjustment. The stress of it all felt insurmountable.

I wish I could say things got better in my second trimester, but they didn’t. In fact, things got worse. The stress of the move exacerbated everything I had been experiencing. Not only was my dysautonimia was raging, but my platelets began to steadily drop down to levels that were worrisome. I had to find not only a new OB practice down here, but I also had to find and start regularly seeing several specialists as well- an electrophysiologist, a hematologist, and a maternal fetal medicine doctor. I also made sure to hire a doula and I found a pretty outstanding acupuncturist to help support my journey as well. I continued my therapy appointments too, and once we moved down to Florida, It felt like I was constantly going to visit one practitioner or another. My days were filled with appointments, tests, and even a couple ER visits sprinkled in. I spent weeks on end hooked up to cardiac event monitors, I developed hematomas on my arms from the amount of blood tests I had to get, I was given meds like beta blockers and steroids to try, the list goes on… Thankfully the team I found and built down here was powerhouse, and I felt as well taken care of as I could possibly be, but I was completely crippled with anxiety. I’m not sure I had ever felt so scared in all my life. I felt consumed by panic, and fought off intrusive thoughts around the clock that all revolved around losing my life due to this pregnancy. The fear and threat became so intense and felt so real to me, that I went through a really dark phase of questioning all the reasons I even wanted to get pregnant in the first place. I battled a lot of “what have I done” type thoughts. I fell into some moments of feeling like this baby was a threat to me, my kids, and my life as I knew it. I had nights I felt resentful towards my baby, which then was coupled with intense self hatred. Because how could I resent an innocent baby? I knew how ridiculous that was. And what kind of mother did that make me?! I was the one who fought to have this child to begin with. I did this to myself. It was all my fault. Everything is my fault.

On and on the negative thoughts went ….

I started to question everything. The pregnancy, the move, all of it. It was such a sad period of time for me. I felt so much terror and so much grief. It felt as though I had taken this perfect and lovely life of mine and completely turned it upside down. And at that time, I didn’t have the foresight to justify any of it. I just felt so lost, so alone, and so scared. I felt like I was failing my family by not being able to show up for them because of how awful I felt. I felt I was failing this baby by not being more excited and joyful. The more depressed I felt, the more I found myself isolating. It was a really bad cycle that it seemed I’d never get out of.

The story is not all bad though. Not even close. I indeed did find my way out of that negative cycle. What ended up happening was a mixture of hard work, vigilance on my end, the amazing support i received, fate, and a little bit of luck. As I entered my third trimester, I started to feel better. My dysautonomia calmed down significantly. I was no longer having hours-long episodes every single day. I continued to experience heart palpitations throughout the rest of my pregnancy, but they became much more manageable and didn’t derail my day or prevent me from being functional anymore. At first I couldn’t tell if it was because they became less intense or because I became used to them, but I believe it was a combo of both.

I wasn’t able to exercise at all this pregnancy because of the issues I had, but to be honest, I got over that real quick. Just being able to function normally became my goal, so to even be able to do that during my third trimester felt like such a gift! I started to engage in daily life like normal again, and I stopped feeling fearful of my capabilities in doing so. I started to trust my body again. This was monumental for my mental health. My platelets continued to fluctuate in concerning ranges, but thankfully they never crashed to a point where it became an emergency. But even with that issue, I began to just lean into trust and faith that things would work out. I think at one point I just surrendered to the whole process. I stopped kicking so hard against the tide, I stopped attaching to all the stories that my anxiety was holding onto, and instead just rode the wave and met each day wherever I was. This allowed me to find peace in this process and to reconnect with my “why”. I remembered why I wanted this all to begin with. I started to reconnect with baby and my love for her,and very quickly found myself thoroughly enjoying carrying her.

I may not have enjoyed the whole process, but I have to say, I loved my last trimester. Despite the issues that still posed a threat to me, I started to really focus on my mindset. It was easier to do this being that I was physically feeling better, and it also helped my mental health that my mom came down to spend the winter here with us… but I still had a lot of health issues that I was up against, and I succeeded in finding joy, peace, pleasure, and gratitude in spite of them.

The last 4 weeks of my pregnancy I experienced bliss. Pure bliss. I savored every single moment of it, knowing that not only was this experience sacred, but that it was the last time that I would ever experience such a miracle again. I experienced some emotional dips when receiving bad news at my doctor appointments, but it didn’t keep me down for long. I was determined to not waste a second more of this experience being sad. I wanted to hold onto as much as I could and enjoy it. And so I did. I truly did. And the term “better late than never” had never felt so poignant to me. I felt so overjoyed that i finally reached a place of contentment, even if it was late. I understood that there were lessons riddled throughout this whole experience that I obviously needed to go through. Lessons in letting go, in surrender, in trust and faith, and in finding peace and joy despite hardship. I was so much stronger by the end of this pregnancy. My faith was stronger, my mind was stronger, I felt more resilient. I felt more trusting and confident in myself, my body, this process, in a higher power, in my choices. And wouldn’t you know it, at the very end of my pregnancy (literally like in the last two weeks) my body started to show up for me. Or rather … she showed up for me all along, I just needed more patience and trust to see the miracles that would unfold. In the end, my platelets started to cooperate. That had been the main concern for birth towards the end. Before this turn of events, the tentative plan for birth was complicated. After a super high pulse-dose of steroids did not do anything to bring my platelets into a safe range, we discussed my getting an IVIG transfusion + IV steroids st 39 weeks, and then 48 hours later a scheduled induction. Of course I didn’t want any of this, but I was willing to do whatever was needed to bring baby here safely while also keeping myself safe. Just as I had gotten to a place of acceptance that this was what had to be done, things changed. My platelets started to rise. They were still low, but starting to trend toward a direction that would void any need for the interventions. And that’s just what ended up happening. At 38.5 weeks pregnant, a decision was made that my levels were at a place that we could take the risk of allowing me to go into spontaneous labor, sans any intervention leading up. I was in shock and disbelief. I couldn’t believe that I got to a point that I had prayed and wished for, but did not ever think would actually happen. It’s wild that as soon as I LET GO of the severe attachment to the outcomes and just accepted the way things were, that the outcome I most wanted finally then came to me. If that’s not some serious ‘law of attraction’ type shit right there, I don’t know what is.

That final week of pregnancy, I could barely process all that had led me to the point I was at, but what I could connect to was the most intense state of gratitude I had ever felt in my life. I felt so ready for what was next, and yet was not rushing to get there. I felt the magnitude of the transition I was in - I was quite literally an open and waiting portal between heaven and earth! I felt so connected to my womanhood, to divinity, to God, and most of all, my beautiful precious baby girl. After what felt like a battle, I was so ready to emerge victoriously and welcome her into the world.

Birth story to follow :)