I almost died.

Ji

At first, actually, for a long time, I found that telling the truth about my life, my past, my story, to be really difficult. I wasn't cdomfortable. It still hurt. Some days it still hurts. But that happens. Things hurt, whether we expect them to or not. The difference now is that I can acknowledge the crappy parts, and move on. 

My son spotted a picture on my computer tonight. This picture:

He wanted to know what it was. You know what it is, right? It's a unit of blood. I think it's the second one that I received. Last January, I had a miscarriage. I didn't know I was pregnant. I thought my period was on steroids. I managed it with a ton of feminine hygiene products for a few days before I started to feel run down, weak, and woozy. Finally, on Sunday morning, I went to the Emergency Room. They ran some bloodwork, checked out my business, and said that they'd probably just give me a prescription to make the bleeding stop, and send me on my way. Nope.

They got my bloodwork back, and my hematocrit and hemoglobin levels were slightly over half of what they should have been. So, I was moved to another bed to get an EKG. That was fine, but they were insisting that I be admitted overnight, or have a blood transfusion. Fine. WAIT!

"Did you know that you're pregnant?"

"What?! No."

"Yeah, so we're going to have to do an ultrasound to make sure that everything is okay, then the doctor will likely have to perform a D&C."

The ultrasound was fine, but my hematocrit and hemoglobin levels were even lower. That's when they decided I needed to be rushed into surgery. Waking from ananesthesia was weird. I've never had any surgery before, and waking from a procedure that involves completing a miscarriage was really emotional.  When my levels still hadn't come up at all, I was admitted for the night so that my blood could start to regenerate. 

Do you know where they put you when you're being treated by OB/GYN? Bet you figured that one out. I was put in the back corner of the labor and delivery floor. That wasnt TERRIBLE for me, but only because I was bedridden until my levels came up. I had my first pint of blood transfused that night. My levels didnt rise at all overnight, so i needed another pint in the morning. I got to go home, but i was unable to care for Scout, so she had to stay with my parents and sister for a week. That was tough. 

The point is, though, that sometimes the hurt sneaks up, It was kind of tough to explain to a 12 year old. Especially when I wasn't expecting it.