My Pregnancy Journey with Hyperemesis Gravidarum (Part 2)

Two days after my first appointment with the OB, my husband was to begin a two week trip out of state with his Army Reserve unit. This was the only time in our marriage that he has ever had to be apart from me for that long, and all I could think was, "what crappy timing, with me being so sick." Fortunately, two very kind friends of ours volunteered to drive me the entire 8 hour trip to my parents' house where I would stay while my husband was away. At this point, I was unquestionably sick enough that driving myself anywhere would have been risky and felt almost impossible, much less driving myself on an 8 hour trip.

So on Saturday, July 16th, I arrived at my parents' house and finally got to tell them that I was pregnant. I walked in the door and immediately presented each of them with a gift bag that contained a white bib with green writing saying "I love Grandma" and "I love Grandpa." They were clearly surprised, but also seemed excited, and my dad gave me a hug immediately. Even though I had become so sick, I knew I had wanted to tell my parents the news in person somehow and I was determined to wait to tell them until I could make that happen. I remember times that I would be on the phone with my dad, curled up in the fetal position with my eyes closed, trying to block out the world to keep the nausea at bay and distract myself with his words, and all the while he had absolutely no idea what was really going on.

The car ride there had actually been unusually tame as far as my nausea and vomiting went, and for that I was very grateful. As soon as I had broken the news, I followed it with the words "but I've been very sick." I didn't really know what else to say. That was a huge part of why I had come to stay with them these two weeks and they had no idea until then. I am forever grateful that the Lord allowed us to make the very wise decision for me to stay with them, because it turned out that it was during this time that my health began to deteriorate even further.

On July the 18th, 2 days after I had arrived, I was up during the night for a bathroom trip and I noticed a very small amount of blood. I was quite alarmed but because it was such a small amount, I tried to keep myself from getting too carried away with unnecessary worry and just went back to bed. When I got up for the day and finally had to go to the bathroom again (I was urinating very little because most, if not all, of what I drank was coming back up so I wasn't drinking much at all), there was more blood, a good amount more and it was bright red. This is when I completely freaked out. My mom had left the house for an appointment that morning and my dad had already left for work so I was by myself. I remember calling both my mom and my dad, basically flipping out and pretty much crying, saying that I needed one of them to drive me to the emergency room NOW. All I could think of was my baby. I was terrified that I was having a miscarriage. 

When I got to the ER, they did an ultrasound, my first one of the pregnancy, to try to find out what was going on. The tech scanned me for about 20 minutes, and I kept asking her questions, all the while knowing she wouldn't be allowed to tell me anything. She was very kind and tried to distract me from what she was doing by talking to me a little bit about other things. I kept trying to look at the screen to no avail, not that it really would have told me anything anyway. I just wanted to see my baby so badly. It was a terrible, terrible wait until the doctor told me what was happening. 

I was told that I had something called a subchorionic hemorrhage. I still have a hard time understanding exactly what it is, so I will quote from this page: "Subchorionic bleeding is the accumulation of blood within the folds of the chorion (the outer fetal membrane, next to the placenta) or within the layers of the placenta itself. These bleeds, or clots, can cause the placenta to separate from the uterine wall if they get too large, if they develop in a bad spot, or if they aren't eventually reabsorbed." I was told that it may or may not heal on its own, there was no way to tell. I asked what the chances were that I would remain pregnant, and I remember the doctor saying that it was 50-50. Not reassuring. To make matters worse, I had no internet access while staying with my parents, so I had no way to research this condition until I went back home. If I would have been able to do so, I would have learned that the majority of subchorionic hemorrhages heal on their own, and the doctor seemed to be misinformed. Just my luck, because of course I spent those two weeks even more worried than I really needed to be. I remember trying to lie as flat as possible as opposed to sitting more upright, and trying to move very slowly when I would shift positions in what became my "nest" of my parents' recliner. As if any of that wold have helped if I was going to miscarry, but I was so desperate and that's all I really had in my power to do. I prayed a lot, "Lord, please keep this baby safe!" Each time I would wipe in the bathroom I was so fearful of what I might see. But God choose to keep my baby safe through this, and I am so thankful. One of my later ultrasounds revealed that the hemorrhage had completely healed. 

On my way out of the ER that day, I asked a nurse if I could have some kind of picture from the ultrasound they had taken, because I still had never seen it. I wanted something to keep in case I lost the baby. So along with the the paperwork I was sent home with and after a little bit of extra wait time, I was given a disk with what seems to be a video of a very small portion of the ultrasound. I am forever grateful to that nurse for taking the extra time to make that disk for me.

From the video on the disk, my baby at 8 weeks and 1 day.

While I was in the ER for the bleeding, nothing was done as far as any additional treatment for my still severe nausea and frequent vomiting. I informed them that I was taking the Phenergan that had been prescribed by my OB and told them it wasn't really helping. I remember they took a urine sample, and little else was said or done regarding my sickness during this visit.