Risky Business Part III

As it turned out, being a high-risk pregnancy was an incredibly positive experience.  Living in a city meant that I wasn’t very far from true experts in the field.  And they definitely knew their stuff.  

Each appointment, I was given an ultrasound on my heart and my carotid artery.  They didn’t just know my numbers, they knew exactly what type of high blood pressure I had, and they could monitor every aspect of it and give me the best medication for it.  I responded incredibly well, and saw my lowest numbers, well, ever (since I’d been paying attention, anyway).  

Because high blood pressure can lead to a smaller baby, I also had several extra ultrasounds to check his growth.  For someone with anxiety issues, this was the best part.  

Unfortunately, the nature of high blood pressure in pregnancy meant that I couldn’t just get the right meds and be done with it; my body was constantly fighting, and every month or so my meds would have to be raised.  The second trimester can also have unexpected drops in blood pressure, which, as it turns out, is scary indeed.  

One day, after a lazy morning eating breakfast and reading the internet, I got ready to head out to go shopping.  I instantly felt that something was wrong; I was unusually tired, even for me.  Tired as in, I had to lie down after brushing my teeth.  I decided to test my blood pressure with my home cuff, and see what was going on.  At that point, my “normal” was 120/80, but this time it was 90/60. 

I blinked.  That was lower than I’d ever seen.  Huh, I wonder if there's something wrong with the cuff, I thought.  I checked it again.  This time, the bottom number was 40 - and I could feel, even as I took it, that I was feeling worse.  And dizzy.  I tried taking it a third time, but it was already hitting me that I might pass out, in the apartment, alone.  I saw the monitor error out right before I pulled the cuff off. 

I didn’t have the doctor’s number in my phone (stupid! So stupid!) and I was terrified I’d pass out before I could get across the apartment to my computer to look it up.  I texted my husband, who I’ll refer to as the Yeti, due to his private nature and general scruffiness.  

I was having trouble focusing on the text and really thought I might black out any second.  So I went with the most succinct phrase I could think of: come home now.  

Yes, in retrospect it was the scariest thing I could have said to him.  He responded right away, even as I elaborated in a second text.  He works just a few minutes from home.  Feeling more relieved now, I made my way to the computer, called the doctor, left a message, and laid down.  I think the terror of potentially passing out scared myself into a panic attack, making my bp rise; when the Yeti arrived ten minutes later and took my bp the diastolic was back up to 85.  

Ultimately the diagnosis was a drop in blood pressure, and I never had one like that again.  It was a learning experience; now I knew I could reach the Yeti in an emergency, and we discussed and refined how we’d approach that.  

Thankfully, it wound up being probably the scariest moment in my pregnancy, and nothing was even wrong.  Also, at twenty weeks my morning sickness finally went away, and my energy started to return.  Things were looking up - but it wasn’t the end of complications for me.