Don’t Worry About the Worrisome

“Try not to worry about it.”

That’s my OB/GYN telling me that despite my elevated high blood pressure and trace amounts of protein in my urine, I should not assume I have preeclampsia, though I very well may.

So for the next two days, I would research it and try not to freak out over all of the plain ol’ facts, like the one about how the only cure for preeclampsia is delivering the baby…regardless of how far along you are. The reason for this is that I could have organ failure, seizures or heart failure. The baby could be compromised because my placenta would no longer be giving him the nutrients he needs. Or put plainly: One or both of us could die.

And yes, I’m fortunate that my symptoms did not show up at week 21 versus week 31. And yes, it’s good that my blood pressure is only elevated, not over the preeclampsia threshold. And yes, it’s good that there is only a trace amount of protein.

Yet still.

We waited a little less than forty eight hours for my lab results. They checked out OK.

All that I can do now is be monitored. All I can do is hope that if I am in the pre-stages of this, that it won’t progress too quickly, that I’ll be further along in the pregnancy.

Because I’m not ready.

As much as I’ve joked that I’m “done with all of this”, what I mean is the aches and pains of carrying an extra 40 pounds. I mean I’m tired of not being able to bend over and pick things up, sleep more than two hours at a time, walk faster than .01 miles an hour, breathe normally, eat normally, HAVE A BEER OR NINE, not freak out about my ankles swelling, put on pants without sitting down first, actually fit in the bathtub.

I’m not ready to be laid up in the hospital, around strangers, getting poked and prodded and trying to mentally prepare myself to have a human being exit my body. Maybe I’ll never be able to wrap my head around that idea, but I’d still take the extra month or two to contemplate it.

And even though they don’t know why exactly some women (less than 10%) get preeclampsia, it’s nearly impossible not to take some sort of blame. I should be eating kale and using a Nutribullet. I should have done pre-natal yoga. I should drink more water. What if my liver was damaged from all of that day drinking? What if my bad diet and non existent exercise routine leading up to getting pregnant brought this on?


But it’s nearly impossible not to think about these things.

The only thing that keeps me from going into full blown panic mode is that I’m trying to keep my blood pressure down.



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