I’m really not sure how to begin this post. I’ve started and stopped writing it so many times, and at this point that I’m not even sure it will make sense. But I don’t care. Writing has become a form of release for me during this pregnancy; it seems to help me process everything – from what’s going on with my actual body to what’s going on in my mind as it’s happening, in it’s most pure, unadulterated form.
The truth is, I’ve been struggling this week; I’ve been in a very strange place both mentally and physically. In fact, I might go as far as saying I’ve been in one of the strangest places I’ve ever been in. Unfamiliar territory. Highly volatile emotions. Stress. Anxiety. Sadness. Disbelief. And frustration. Serious frustration.
And to top it all off, my go to stress coping mechanisms – running, sweating, and challenging my body – are off the table. Just like that, ripped away from me (and of course all happening right when I was starting to feel like moving again – when running and sweating were actually sounding desirable – while officially well within my second trimester, and starting to experience that “second trimester bliss”).
My doctor speaks in code.
On Monday, I woke up with that ready to tackle the world energy. I was feeling productive with work, and best of all, my legs felt like moving. Like I was actually craving a run. After a productive morning, I decided to go for a little afternoon sweat. I did a 4 mile treadmill workout, followed by some weights and went home in good spirits.
And then just before teaching class that evening, I received some shitty news from my doctor: I have complete placenta previa.
At first, I didn’t totally understand what that meant. I kept re-reading the email. I kept searching for some sort of clue as to what this meant for the baby, and for me. I kept going back over the part that said, no running, no lifting anything above 20 lbs, no travel, and no strenuous activity.
I started to feel a little panicky as the words no running, no travel, and no strenuous activity kept replaying in my mind. I taught my Monday night class in a total fog and then went home and cried. My husband did his best to comfort me; he advised me not to jump to any conclusions before we talked to the doctor. I went to bed feeling like he was probably right. This couldn’t be as bad as it sounded.
Denial is bliss.
No travel? Surely they just meant big trips – like cross country or international trips. Surely they didn’t mean a quick hour and a half flight home for the holidays or a short two hour flight to Phoenix in January to visit Casey’s family. None of that could truly be off the table, could it? And no running? Surely that’s intended for people who didn’t run pre-pregnancy. I’m healthy and fit. I eat well and take care of myself. And I was feeling pretty darn good. Why would I need to be under such close supervision or restriction? It just couldn’t be.
Who the fuck is this previa character and what does she want with my placenta, anyway?
The next morning, I taught my early morning 6 am class in a familiar state of fog and worry, and then went home, forgoing my usual 7:30 am yoga practice so that I could get on the phone with someone at Kaiser as soon as the lines were open. When I made it through to the advice nurse, she said, “so you’re calling because you have questions about an email that was sent?” I said “yes.” And she paused, and then said, “so what questions did you have?” I felt like a moron for not knowing what my specific questions were but also frustrated that she wasn’t just prepared with answers. I wanted to scream, “I don’t know. I received an email that was basically written in code and I want to better understand it. JUST FUCKING TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW.”
Instead, I asked politely what exactly placenta previa was and what that meant for the baby and me. She explained that placenta previa describes the position of the placenta in relation to the cervix. In normal pregnancies, the placenta clings to the upper part of the uterus; when instead it implants lower, closer to the cervix, you’ve got yourself a placenta previa. There are three types: marginal, in which the placenta is located near the cervical opening; partial, in which the placenta partially covers the cervix; and total or complete, in which the cervix is entirely covered (which is what I have).
Basic translation: I get to freak the fuck out.
Instead of enjoying the rumored to-be blissful second trimester, instead I feel nothing but stress, anxiety, and total frustration. And while the actual danger to me is minimal, other than the potential for hemorrhage (which I’m told can be treated with transfusions and fluid replacements as needed – oh joy!), the baby is at a greater risk. Previa babies are often premature, delivered by c-section and have a much higher mortality rate overall. Sounding fun yet?
And what’s worse, there’s really nothing I can do about it, other than practice “pelvic rest” and pray that it moves.
Pelvic rules.
The instructions on how to deal with having placenta previa during your pregnancy are so entirely vague, that with every movement, every action I take, I just feel more and more stressed and anxious. How about now?
Is this considered a strenuous activity?
I asked the advice nurse what else was considered a strenuous, off the table activity (the running and lifting portion were very clear) – was yoga considered strenuous? And if not, were their particular poses I needed to avoid. Her answer, yoga is probably OK, I’d say continue doing that. And go on walks (she said this very chirpily, ughhhhh). Then I asked about specific types of poses and she said, maybe try not to do anything that has your butt over your uterus…unless it’s part of your flow and you do it for a moment, that shouldn’t be a problem.
What? So does that mean that downward facing dog is an issue? Butt above uterus…..she responded, just use good judgement.
Next up, I asked about the specifics of travel. I told her that the holidays were a few short weeks away and let her know that we had travel plans. Would we really not be able to fly an hour and a half to see my family? Or two hours to see Casey’s? What are the real chances I’d bleed out on a plane. She said, “oh, you might be able to travel. I’ll put a note in with the doctor to see how they feel about it.”
After asking about travel, I asked about the potential for the placenta to move up and for this whole damn issue to just resolve itself. And she said, “it could happen. We’ll check at your next ultrasound.”
And that was that. I hung up the phone and felt a mixture of relief, confusion, and more frustration. Maybe I couldn’t run for a few weeks or lift weights. Ok, I’d walk, swim, and do yoga instead. But surely, I’d still be able to travel.
Doctor, doctor, give me the news.
The next day, while still feeling slightly optimistic, the doctor called. I was glad it wasn’t yet another advice nurse – it was my actual MD. I was prepared with my questions about the confusing code words and acronyms she had used in her emails, alongside the words “downs” and “muscular dystrophy” to tell me that I was probably not at risk and that the radiologist had just flagged something on my chart that led her to call a Genetic Counselor. I wanted to scream, COULD YOU HAVE WRITTEN THAT DIFFERENTLY MAYBE? WRITING A BUNCH OF ACRONYMS AND JARGON NEXT TO WORDS I UNDERSTAND LIKE DOWNS AND MUSCULAR DYSTROPHY IS A TERRIFYING THING TO SEND TO A PERSON WHO DID NOT GO TO MEDICAL SCHOOL. JESUS. ARE YOU SERIOUS???
Instead, I responded politely and said, well that’s good news then, right? And then I reiterated what I had discussed with the advice nurse the day before and she basically said again, no running, no lifting anything over 20 lbs, no strenuous activity, no sex, nothing in your vagina, and no travel.
I repeated what I had said to the advice nurse – that everything she was saying was so vague and arbitrary – what was considered strenuous? Would this mean I won’t get to run again throughout this entire pregnancy? Is there a high risk I’ll be put on bed rest?
She assured me that I don’t have to be bubble girl (her words, not mine) but that I need to be careful with my activity. And that walks and yoga were ok. And then went on to say that unless the placenta moved up, I was not to travel. I asked about the chances of bleeding out on an hour and a half flight and she put it back to me, why would you want to find out those chances?
She offered that I might feel better if I got a second opinion, and while I agree, in the pit of my stomach, I already know that they’re most likely going to tell me the very same thing. No running, no lifting anything over 20 lbs, no sex, nothing in the vagina, no travel, and no strenuous activity.
BOO FUCKING HOO.
I’m a selfish asshole.
I certainly don’t want to do anything that would harm the baby, but I feel like all of these new restrictions are going to legitimately make me crazy. Movement is a huge part of my life, hell it’s a huge part of my identity. I almost feel like I don’t entirely know who I am right now.
I’ve had this news for less than a week and already I’m feeling trapped by my own body. It’s not like I feel like I can’t move, it’s more that I feel guilty if I move in a way that might be causing any pelvic strain. And each day, trying to decipher what is considered strenuous and off limits and what is not, is anxiety inducing all on its own.
I’ve still managed to practice yoga every single day, but in just one short week, it’s become a very different practice. An almost foreign practice in a body that no longer feels like my own. In a body that is betraying me, and not honoring all of the hardwork I’ve put in to make sure it’s healthy, fit, and happy. Like it’s revolting against me.
Some days I’ve managed to find some positivity in the whole thing, I’ve managed to be grateful to just be able to move. To be grateful that I’m not on actual bedrest (heaven help me if that becomes a next step). But other days, it just feels like a frustrating practice, as if I’m babying some injury that doesn’t actually exist. And today was one of those days.
I had a full meltdown in an afternoon yoga class. I started crying and couldn’t stop. I went down in child’s pose in hopes to mask the tears and allow the moment to pass, but the feelings persisted. I tried to stay in savasana awhile while people were getting up and chatting so I could avoid any eye contact or chatter, but people were worried and wanted to check in on me as kind, compassionate people generally do. But the more people tried to comfort me, the more the tears streamed down my face, and the worse it got. Crying in public, especially at my place of business, is legit my worst nightmare realized. I wanted nothing more than to hide my face and make a mad dash out of the room; while instead I was left with tears streaming down my face, and snot hanging from my nose.
Smooth moves by me.
Of course I texted an apology and explanation to anyone who had tried to talk to me, to comfort me. Hey, sorry my placenta is being an asshole and making me an asshole.
Statistics were never my strong suit.
I’ve cried every single day this week, some days more than others, and today was extreme. I have 18 more days till my next ultrasound. 18 more days where I will likely shed tears at least 6 more times (I’m guessing that I’ll average around three episodes per week).
Aside from drawing my own conclusions about my mental state of being, here are some real statistics (from the internets)….
- I should play the lottery: Complete (or true placenta previa) persists in 1 out of 1,500 first-time mothers. 1 out of 1,500? Lucky me!
- Bloody hell. Only 1 in 10 women will reach full term without bleeding when a placental previa is present in any form. Oh, goodie! Even more reason to freak the fuck out.
- 40 weeks, my ass. 67% of pregnancies that involve placenta previa will result in a premature delivery.
Conclusion.
Pregnancy is kicking my ass. Second trimester has not been some blissed out joyride. And, I still don’t have an actual baby bump, just a protruding, funny looking beer belly.
If you made it this far, I’m sorry, but thanks for listening. I swear blogging about this is better than therapy.
Stay sweaty (and sane!),
XO,
Jamie
Alissa says
December 1, 2017 at 6:55 pmOh Jamie! Hope you’re able to find some semblance of calm in the midst of this new storm 🙁 so sorry to hear that. Big hug. Many of us are rooting for you and Baby Danger (and Casey and Abbie) for more tangible news and better odds next visit. Sending strength. Thinking of you!!
Jamie says
December 2, 2017 at 9:46 pmThanks so much Alissa – your support and love means the world to me – I am also rooting for better news at our next visit. Hugs to you too! XOXO
Rachel Frutkin says
December 1, 2017 at 7:59 pmOh Jamie, I’m so sorry pregnancy is being an asshole to you. It was an asshole to me too, just in an entirely different way. And the hormones make everything exponentially worse. Hugs to you. xxoo
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:37 amThanks for being so supportive! I’m sorry that it was also an asshole to you…it has a funny way of doing that, it seems.
Alyse says
December 1, 2017 at 8:28 pmThis might be a duplicate comment … 🙂
Jamie. I’m so sorry. It’s a cruel sick joke of the universe that of all people to be told to sit still and rest, it’s you.
I’m so glad you’re writing and crying in Yoga and getting it OUT.
The suck is unbelievable but No challenge is stronger than you.
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:37 amThanks for being on the other end of a lot of rants and phone calls. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Lindsay Ingalls says
December 1, 2017 at 8:44 pmI’m so sorry Jamie. Pregnancy can be wonderful and pregnancy can be awful, challenging, and down right frightening at times. Thank you for being so open and for sharing.
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:36 amThanks for being so supportive Lindsay! XOXO
crista says
December 1, 2017 at 9:26 pmmy doctor freaked me out, you’re not alone. i didn’t enjoy pregnancy like i thought i would. i felt trapped in a body that was not my own anymore. we were deemed low fluids and intrauterine growth restricted. i cried a lot towards the end. I’m so sorry you’re going through this right now girl. you’re not selfish, i promise. sending all the goodness your way. ps. everything did turn out well for us and baby girl.
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:36 amThank you for your continued love, support, and wisdom Crista, it truly helps me to know that there are so many strong mamas out there who went through similar experiences and can relate to this feeling of being trapped (but still made it out alive!). So much love to you! XOXO
Esther says
December 1, 2017 at 9:28 pmI’m so sorry friend. That is tough news.
My thoughts and prayers are with you. ❤️
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:35 amThank you for the love and support Esther!! XOXO
Gelcys says
December 1, 2017 at 9:57 pmI’m sorry you are going through all of this Jamie. Im sure you are stressed with a head full of questions and uncertainties. But you are one tough chick. You have a strong support team.
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:35 amThank you so much for the kind words and support Gelcys, I so appreciate you!
Carleeh dawn Mulholland says
December 1, 2017 at 10:49 pmI love you. I know you are getting nothing but support and love so I will just be frank. i effin hated pregnancy. every dang one of them. I love my kids but all I did for 27+ months of my life was puke or feel like I was about to and have migraines and get fat, like not normal 25+ lbs of fat LIKE 70!! 70lbs. all 3 kids.
I bled with Cainen (my first) so the bleeding first baby thing was truly freaking scary nightmare of freak outs every time. and then he rebroke my already broke rib and sat on my sciatic. He is still hittin my every last nerve today too lol. Then he legit almost tore me all the way through one stitch away and then ripped half my nipple off lmbo Pregnancy and being a new mom is AWESOME.
But doctor’s always give you worst case scenarios, to keep us as safe as possible. I was 19 with my first and they were so sure he would be preemie and low birth weight. But he came out 9lbs and 21 inches long 9 days late!
They dont know everything, just statistics. I was told not to workout at all with all 3 of mine, it was back when working out was dangerous?!?! for mom and baby. But I do know a few women who had previa and 1 (in person) complete besides you. (dang I know like 3000 people!!) crazy. She made it through, but did end up bed ridden and with preemie, but she isnt you and every pregnancy is different.
I just want you to know, it is okay to feel freaked out and pissed. It is okay to cry and lose it, being a mom is the hardest crap ever!
I had to give up everything this year to deal with chaos (same son above!!) at home and medical scary stuff too for myself and my girl. Life is just crazy. It is hard to have to stop all the things we thought we could do and sit back and be all FOMO/pissed/sad about it.
I am here for you, whenever. Precious girl. Loves ya
p.s. you are on my fridge! my first Christmas card! I will be praying for your body to be safe and take care of you and baby danger! xoxo
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:35 amThanks Carleeh for the continued support. I am so lucky to have strong mamas like you in my life who I can lean on for support, guidance and love. Also, it helps to know that I’m not alone in feeling pissed off during pregnancy – that it isn’t all a joyride for everyone.
Your strength and positivity and this community’s incredible strength and positivity are the very things I need to keep working through this and process all of it. Much love and appreciation to you! XOXO
Brooke says
December 2, 2017 at 5:07 amI have never heard of placenta previa, Jamie, but my heart hurts because of all the humans I know it just seems unfair that it would affect someone like you who is so active and so enthusiastic about living a healthy, active lifestyle! Boo. 🙁
It’s interesting though because i found myself relating your experience in small (admittedly much less significant) ways in my own life—like the stress fracture in my leg that hasn’t healed in 5 yrs and keeps me from running… and the stupid ruptured discs in my back that make any kind of intense fitness (and my favorite exercise—burpees!) impossible/not doctor recommended. Thank you for sharing so vulnerably, I think your words will probably resonate with more people, pregnant or not, than you know.
In the meantime, know that I’m holding you in my heart in this time. And I’m wishing I could’ve hugged you in that yoga class, snotty and all. And I’m strongly advising you to take your own rec and go buy a lottery ticket…because those odds!
Love to you, my friend.
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:33 amThank you for the virtual hug Brooke, it means so much to me to have your support even when we’re on opposite sides of the country -while you’re shopping for your new home and re-embarking on your soul adventure (I’m so jealous and in awe of you, btw). You are very missed around the studio (and Portland) in general and I just love following your adventures – you guys are so incredible – your strength, determination, and ability to adapt and weather any storm (pun intended) is undeniable! XOXOX
Susie Suzlyfe says
December 2, 2017 at 5:59 amSENDING YOU HUGE GIANT VERY BIG HUGS.
First of all, let me say how much I relate (in a rare way, perhaps) how much it sucks to have to give up basically who you are (an active person, nay, someone whose entire LIFE revolves around activity), as well as the feelings of terror that receiving this kind of news regarding your baby and your body’s ability to carry your baby, can bring. I relate, oh so well, and I empathize with you so much.
I was perhaps more prepared than you for this kind of sentence (the no activity) because of IVF, so when I was to continue the no activity after I thought I had lost the baby, I was all in and totally fine with it. I could still walk, right?
And then I broke my hip and couldn’t do anything. I had to fully give in. Quit my job. Sit around. Lose who I was, and worry about the future (in this case, would I break again?
Though I know that yoga and running mean the world to you, I can never truly know how much (bascially because I’m not you, so to say so would be assinine), but what I can understand is the frustration of feeling like you are being forced to take a back seat to life whenyou aren’t in pain and you have no visible wounds. (My miscarriage scare came with blood and some cramping, which was visual enough for me to sit pat.)
All this is to say is that you have a friend here that can empathize in a rare way. YOU ARE NOT SELFISH. Stop that thinking right now, miss lady. You have been asked to become a vegetarian after a life of living on a cattle farm in Texas, so to speak. This is going to take adjusting, and a bit of grief, and a lot of acceptance, and a LOT of self love and love for this kiddo. But if yoga and running teaches us anything, it is that we are highly adaptable creatures. Meet yourself on that mat, where you are, and do what you can for your body that day. Right?
That little bean is challenging you, but I know you, Jamie–you love a challenge. You are going to face it head on, but this time, you are going to have to face it will love and care.
So many hugs. So many wishes for a healthy baby and a healthy mama.
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:31 amYour comment made me cry, thanks Suzy for your love and support. And I know if I can embrace this challenge, in the way that you have embraced your own challenges, I’ll be stronger for it. He’s definitely challenging me – I think our two babes are destined to be good friends, maybe even more someday – haha – they like challenging their mamas and giving them more reasons to be creative and try new things (damn kids!).
I really appreciate you – and everything you’ve shared about your own journey – it helps me feel less alone in feeling so crazy, or stressed, or emotional about all of it!
Much love to you and baby Yoshi!
xOXO
Kristin says
December 2, 2017 at 6:31 amJamie,
I’m so sorry you have to go through all this!! I wish you all the miracles you deserve – hopefully that placenta realizes it’s being a jerk and gets out of the way!
(By the way, you are such an amazing writer! Totally off the topic, but I’m blown away by your style and how engaging that read was!!)
I hope everything goes well and you have a full-term, beautiful baby at the end of this mess!! Hugs!
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:28 amThank you so much for your support Kristin, I’m doing so much better this week, mainly because of the outpouring of love from this incredible commmunity. I’m trying to focus my energy on what I can versus can’t do and that’s really helping me process.
Also – thank you for the kind words re: my writing! It’s never something I feel very strong about so it’s so nice to hear that people enjoy it. It takes me a considerable amount of time to write anything and I’m always like, omg, I wish I was better at this! So that truly made my week. XOXO
Jennifer (Fit Nana) says
December 2, 2017 at 12:28 pmDoctors definitely do speak in code sometimes. So frustrating! Actually, I’m a little surprised you received that information via email. Seems to me that something like that should at least warrant a phone call so she can explain things and answer questions you didn’t know you had.
Both of my girls were preemies. My oldest was born at 32 weeks and it was determined that I had placental abruption. Apparently, I should play the lottery too because, from what I’ve read, only 1% of all pregnant women will experience placental abruption. I don’t know if that has any correlation to the placement of the placenta but from what I gather, you can’t predict it. It just happens. I wonder if I also had placenta previa but it was so long ago that technology couldn’t quite tell yet? IDK. The good news is, both my girls were fine. Small but fine. Thank goodness! I spent HUGE amounts of time beating myself up for being such a terrible mother because I couldn’t even carry a baby to full term!
But, it wasn’t my fault. It’s just what happened. IT SUCKED. It did but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. This isn’t your fault either. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just what’s happened. And at least you have a game plan – however vague at times, seriously keep your butt below your uterus? WTH? – and I’m certain that you will do everything in your power to make it to 40 weeks. If you don’t, not your fault. But it will be okay!
You run ultras. You know how to hang in there for the long difficult run. I know the rug has been ripped out from under you and your whole lifestyle has to change but you can adapt. You are fierce. You are strong. You are one of the most incredible people I know. You will get through this. If you ever want to vent, you can reach out. 🙂 Meanwhile, know that I’m praying for you and that sweet little baby. <3
Jamie says
December 6, 2017 at 11:27 amThank you so very much, Jennifer, your comment literally brought tears to my eyes. Having your support and reminding me that I’m strong is much needed. I feel like I’ve turned a new leaf this week – I’ve been focusing so much less on what I can’t do and trying to refocus my energy on what I can – thanks to all the wonderful advice I’ve received via comments, texts and Facebook messages like yours.
It’s seriously so helpful to hear that I’m not alone in this – that many women experience these kinds of trials and tribulations during pregnancy – and that for the most part, everything turns out just fine. I’m glad for you that it did.
Anyway, I so appreciate you and your willingness to be supportive and loving even when I’m ranting and raving! 🙂 XOXO
Genevieve says
December 2, 2017 at 1:40 pmOh beautiful Jamie! Keep your chin up and your spirits high! Things will get better. I’m absolutely terrified of pregnancy and you are handling all of this like a champ! You can and WILL get through this! I’m always here by phone or text if you want to talk. Love you!
~Genevieve
Jamie says
December 4, 2017 at 2:19 pmThanks, my sweet friend! I appreciate you. XOXO
Allyson says
December 2, 2017 at 1:48 pmHey Jamie. Your strength is in your vulnerability and willingness to share and be real. You help yourself, more importantly countless others. This whole pregnancy journey is challenging and if anyone can go the distance
It’s you
Love you lots. Always here if you need anything
Jamie says
December 4, 2017 at 2:18 pmThanks Allyson, love you too!
Christy says
December 3, 2017 at 4:38 amI’m sorry, that’s crappy. I had marginal placenta previa and even then was put on complete activity/pelvic rest too, couldn’t pick up my toddler, and it made for a rough pregnancy and a complete fitness start over after I had my boy in September. The good news is it’s worth it!! It will also help motivate you when you are cleared to workout again. Hang in there!
Jamie says
December 4, 2017 at 2:18 pmThanks Christy, I can’t imagine having a kiddo while going through this – how difficult not to be able to pick them up – glad to hear you got through it in one piece. Thanks for the kind words.