When it rains. . .

it pours. This saying has been the story of my life recently. I feel like there's been one thing after another going on with me since Adelaide was born. This week has really made me feel that way. I'll take some time to sit and write about it since I need to rest a little bit anyway.

Monday night the fam was out with the Benefields at Red Robin (eating my very yummy birthday burger) and everything was great. Then we stopped by Bed, Bath, and Beyond on the way home. As we were walking around, I suddenly felt crampy. At first it was no big deal but then all of a sudden, I told Rocky we needed to go home.

We were in two separate cars since Rocky hadn't come home from work yet. As I drove home, I began to feel progressively worse and worse. By the time I got home, I felt miserable. It was all I could do to get Adelaide out of the car, come in the house, sit her on the floor, go lie in bed, and wait for Rocky to come home. I told him to feed and get Adelaide ready for bed while I waited to see if things got better.

After about an hour of pains similar to labor, I finally made the decision that we should probably go to the hospital. Rocky whole-heartedly agreed since I'm not the type to first jump to the conclusion to go to the doctor in the first place. So we dumped Adelaide off at Eric and Jamie's and made it to Seton NW by about 9pm.

We checked in and of course the guy at the registration desk had to crack a joke about how being at the ER wasn't going to be a fun way to start my birthday. Then the waiting game began. First in the waiting room, then after they did a little interview with me, then in the room, then after the doctor came in, waiting, waiting, and more waiting.

When I did finally see the doctor he thought what we were now thinking as well-- appendicitis. I had dull pain all over my abdomen but when I moved, I had more sharp pain on my lower right side. My blood test showed that everything looked OK except for a high white blood cell count, a key sign that my body was fighting infection or inflammation or demons or something. The doc, suspecting that his work of diagnosis was over, went ahead and ordered a CT scan just to make sure he was correct.

I'm really glad he did 'cause they found absolutely nothing wrong with my appendix. Nothing. By this time, about 1:30 or 2 am, I gave in to the idea of not being strong any longer and accepted some morphine. Oh, sweet morphine. It definitely felt weird at first, but finally I was actually able to rest a little bit (well until they decided to give me a catheter a few minutes later). That was my first catheter and I hope it's the last. I even somehow avoided one during my whole labor and delivery.

The catheter wasn't because I could no longer walk to the bathroom, though it would have been helpful so I didn't have to go through the pain of doing that anymore, it was for blowing up my bladder for an ultrasound. The doctor's next thought was that I was having some type of ovarian pain so he wanted to check out my ovaries. When I thought the pain was due to my appendix, I thought "fine, let's just get this over with," but now they were dealing with important parts here, parts vital to not just me, but to the whole family.

After more waiting, we found out that my ovaries looked fine. Of course they did. I was beginning to think one of the Food Network chefs we were watching would have more luck diagnosing my problem than the doctors were having. The doctor then decided to do a pelvic exam. He then concluded that I must have a uterine infection.

Being that it was 4 am and that I was on morphine, I originally thought he said urinary tract infection and thought to myself that I must be pretty wussy for not being able to handle the pain of a little UTI. But then as he explained more, I realized I was mistaken. He took some cultures to check to see if they would be positive for certain bacterias and stuff and then hooked me up to IV antibiotics. He then gave me a couple of prescriptions, one for doxycycline and the other for vicodin, and instructions to see my obgyn in a couple of days. He also scared the crap out of me by saying that uterine infections can lead to infertility if not treated quickly. Thanks. No stress there.

Anyway, so we hobbled out of the ER around 5 am, drove home, grabbed our little girl from the neighbor's, and went to sleep. I fed Adelaide before we got in bed hoping she'd sleep longer. I'm thankful I did-- she slept 'til 9:30. Nice. The neighbors put her and their son in the same room for the night. They said that they talked to each other for about 30 minutes before going to sleep, but they both went to sleep super happy. They said they kept hearing their son, Jude, saying things like "Adelaide, night, night" and then Adelaide would say something like "waaahhhllaaaa." I thought it was so cute.

9:30 was about as late as I could sleep anyway because I had an appointment with the dermatologist at 10:20. I thought about skipping it, but I really wanted to go in and see what was going on with a rash I've had for a couple of weeks. It turned out to be no big deal, some steroid cream, and a follow up appointment, but everything seems small compared to the infection, right?

Well I got home, ate, and settled in for a vicodin-induced nap when my phone rang. It was my endocrinologist's nurse. I'd just gone in to get a blood test last week. Usually they don't call unless there's an issue, so I instantly knew something was up. She said the doctor wanted to see me as soon as possible because my thyroid levels had shifted yet again. So I made an appointment for Wednesday ( yesterday). While I was still on the phone I had them transfer me to my obgyn and also set up an appointment for Wednesday.

So yesterday Erin graciously watched Adelaide while I went to two appointments. The first one just confirmed what we were pretty much thinking was going on with my thyroid all along. I've been still experiencing some symptoms-- high resting pulse, hot flashes, etc. The doctor had hoped it was something called postpartum thyroiditis and that it would correct itself, but it turns out I had an issue with my thyroid before I was pregnant and it has continued to fluctuate since Adelaide was born. In the past 8 months, I'd gone from hypo to hyper to hypo again. So the doctor had me do one more blood test so she can figure out dosage and thinks that she'll start me on medicine next week. After that it will take alot of maintenance-- every 2-3 weeks at first, then every few months, maybe eventually once a year, and once a month when I'm pregnant. Not so bad since it usually can be easily controlled.

Then the next appointment was not so straight forward. The obgyn had all the test results from the ER and after looking at the cultures and everything she said she didn't think it was a uterine infection. She did want to run a few more tests but she thought it was very doubtful that's what was going on. It was the fastest turn around I've ever seen. She handed the nurse the labs and five minutes later, viola- the results. Everything came back normal.

I guess I should be happy but I really wanted to know what happened on Monday night. I'm no hypochondriac so I know (and my white blood cell count concurred) that something was going on. She tried to throw out a few possibilities but really had no idea. She told me I could quit the antibiotics though (which is nice so I can still breastfeed my kiddo) but I was still hesitant to quit with the shock the ER doc sent through me.

As of now I'm feeling so much better-- worn out, sore, slow, but better. My rash and thryoid issues should be dealt with soon. And whatever happened on Monday, I hope it was some weird fluke thing that will never come up again and have no long lasting effect.

Anyway, that's been my week. Thanks to all of you who care so much. It's really helped me make it through.