About Me

I got put back on bed rest on Thursday. I had my Dr appointment. I went in and they weighed me - I've lost about 30 lbs since last Monday. Then they took my blood pressure. It was 169/124, so they had me lay down for 10 minutes and took it again and it was down to 120/104. So she told me that she didn't want to put me back in the hospital or have a stroke, so we would start with a medication and staying in bed. I went back on Friday morning to have it checked again. The meds made it a lot better.

Mom rushed over from Christy’s, spent the night and went to the Dr with me. She went to the appointment with me. The meds make me weak. I was so weak going to the Dr, dad had to get a wheel chair for me. The Dr said that I have “post-partum hypertension.” I also am anemic. She expects me be on the blood pressure meds for 5 or 6 weeks. She put me on some iron pills, said I would probably lose a few more pounds and it would take about 90 days for my body to replenish the blood that I need.

I have also been dealing with the baby blues the last few days... well, since last Friday. It seems that after I delivered Major, my uterus didn’t realize that I had delivered and kept pushing blood through. After a delivery the nurses push on your uterus to make sure it is contracting and that pushes out any extra blood. Over about a 2 hour period, I almost bled to death. I only remember a few things from the entire event. I remember that I had a Mr Pibb and threw up… the nurse pushed my stomach and I felt a gush come out…Mark put the oxygen mask on my face…I heard my mom praying, standing over my right shoulder…someone gave me a shot on the leg…my Dr told me she was going to give me a blood transfusion because I had lost a lot of blood and calling for 4 bags… That’s it. Maybe 5 minutes of 2 hours. I would pass out. I was gone.

So, all of this is understandably disturbing to me. As if finding out that I nearly bled to death after child birth wasn’t enough, then I was dealing with the thought of my kids, my precious babies, growing up with out a mother… with baby Major never knowing me… with Mark raising 3 kids by himself… my parents losing another child. It has been terrible. I haven’t wanted to talk to people. When I would go upstairs and into the boys room I would ball. Just thinking about how much I need them and how much they need me. I got back on my happy pills on Sunday after I was having panic attacks.

Now, a week later, I am feeling better. Last night I had a headache, I took Tylenol at 2 and at 9, and still went to bed praying that I wouldn’t have a stroke or die in my sleep. It will just take some time. I know some of this is natural. I remember after Michael and Mavrick were born, having similar feelings. My prayer life has certainly increased.

Anyway, thank you to all of you who have prayed me through the last two weeks. I am certain that there are many life lessons that God is trying to show me through this. I have a habit of saying “I’m done.” when I am tired of a situation or task. I have learned I am not done, and I would rather be doing something I am not wild about than to miss this great life I have.