Running in the Rain

          Yesterday on the way to work, it was raining.  It was a Saturday morning and I had to be at work early to set up for a big event I was hosting.  My plan was to be there by 7.  On my drive in, it occurred to me that 7 a.m. on Saturday is when I usually meet my running club for our long run.  The first clue was hearing the 90s hits on the radio I used to listen to on my way to Saturday club.  The second was all the runners who were out on the roads and trails. 

          It was the kind of morning I used to dread as a runner.  Cold and rainy.  Even so, I never considered not running on those days.  My motivation was always very high and kept me running through all kinds of annoying conditions, whether it was below zero and blustery, just above freezing and raining, or 90 degrees and sticky.  In club, we joke that running in the elements builds character.  And it’s true, it really does.  I used to feel invincible after those long runs last winter when every Saturday was colder and snowier than the Saturday before.  I’ll admit they would sometimes make me crabby, too.  But crabby AND invincible. 

          It’s been three weeks since I last went running.  Yesterday was the first day in these past three weeks that I really missed it.  I wanted to be out there running in the rain with all the other runners.  I wanted to be hard core and invincible like they were.  Like I used to be.  The sentiment surprised me.  Why would I miss the most miserable of runs?  The answer, I realized, is that the miserable runs are badges of honor.  They prove how important running is to me.  And more often than not, they’re pretty damn ridiculous and as a result, oodles of fun. 

          All in all, my exercise restriction hasn’t been as hard on me as I thought it would be.  It’s given me perspective and it’s pushed me out of my regular routine.  That’s been a good thing for me.  I went for a walk with Coach Mitch last week and admitted to him that running was really hurting the last month I was still doing it.  But I’m stubborn and I’m not one to let discomfort stop my workouts. I don’t like change and I wanted to prove I could still do it.  In retrospect, I was doing far too much.  I didn’t want to adjust, even though my body was and is going through a massive reorganization. 

          My spirits have been good.  I owe it to the temporary nature of pregnancy.  I’m already raring to get back to it after baby comes . . .  like an antsy horse forced to wait behind the starting gate.  But it will be a slow and unpredictable return back to the sport.  I’ll be dealing with excess weight, nursing, and two children instead of one.  Still, I want it.  I know I’ll get it back.  And I’m appreciating the time I have now to step back reflect on it.    

   

My Last Run

     I set my alarm for 6:30 this morning.  I finally got myself up at 5:10 after tossing and turning all night.  I keep thinking about running and previa. 

     It’s hard for me to imagine not running.  I love the camaraderie of my running club.  I love seeing other runners on the lakes and knowing  I am one of them.  I love how it empowers me and gives me confidence that I didn’t have in my pre-running years.   I love looking down at my legs and seeing how powerful they are.  I love the calm it brings me when I get home after a run . . . how it makes me a better wife, mom, and person.  I absolutely love how running makes me feel. 

     Everything I read online says no running with previa.  Yet, my midwife says it’s ok.  I decided I will call for another opinion when the clinics open up later today.  Even so, my gut instinct is that I should hang up my running shoes, as much as I don’t want to. 

     I’m honestly scared about what I’ll be like without running in my life.  Running brought me out of postpartum depression two years ago.  It’s a lot of what keeps me going.  I’m trying to stay on the positive side, though.  I like walking and will probably use my usual running time to walk around the lakes.  I’m looking forward to the challenge of staying healthy without running, and probably without weightlifting in my life.  It will be different, to say the least.  But as scared as I am about not running, it doesn’t come close to the terrified I am about delivering a baby at 32 weeks or even sooner. 

      The gist of what I’ve been finding out about previa is that bedrest is common as is a baby that comes prematurely.  What really pulls at my heartstrings, though, is a scenario where I’m on bedrest in the hospital and I don’t get to see Daughter for more than a few minutes a day.  The thought of that kills me.  I also think about a situation where Chris and I try to juggle one newborn in the NICU and one toddler in the real world for an extended amount of time.  The upside is I haven’t had any symptoms to suggest either of those two results.  I am extremely grateful for that. 

     I’ve decided that I’m going to go out for one last run with the club tonight and savor it.  I need a firm goodbye from the activity that brings me so much happiness.  I will certainly miss taking my baby boy on runs with me, but it’s what’s best for both of us.  He’ll understand.  And if things go well, I won’t go out for another run until October.  Going out sooner would mean baby came too early.  

Previa

    My midwife called me first thing yesterday morning.  She had just seen my ultrasound notes from the previous day and wanted to brief me on the implications.  Baby boy looks perfect, no need to worry about anything with him.   I, on the other hand, have a slightly bigger problem than I realized.  The radiology tech didn’t give anything away the day before during the procedure. 

     The midwife explained that placenta previa is a legitimate concern.  Previa means the placenta is growing over my cervix.  In some cases, the placenta partially covers cervix.  In my case, it’s completely covering it.  The visual that pops into my head is a washcloth covering a drain.   A lot times, this issue resolves itself as the uterus continues to grow.  However, because of my placenta’s location, my midwife is fairly certain it’s not going to go anywhere.  She told me to start psyching myself up for a C section. 

Diagram taken from babycenter.com

      

     With my complete previa comes some restrictions.  Mainly, I need what the nurses call pelvic rest.  My midwife told me to give Chris her apologies for that.  We don’t want to risk detaching the placenta since it’s right there.   In fact, she told me I couldn’t even get checked by medical staff for dilation, etc., for the same reason.  She went on to explain that bleeding is more likely with this type of placenta placement.  And if bleeding does occur, it’s a big deal that will likely lead to bedrest.  You can read more about it here. 

     It’s funny how a little bit of information can make you feel so different.  Suddenly, I feel more fragile.  Coach Mitch asked the obvious question of me that I didn’t think to ask the midwife:  Should I stop running?  I called her back to find out, fighting back tears at the prospect of not running for 28 weeks.  That’s more than half a year!   Surprisingly, she said running is still okay.  What a relief!  Not only for my mental and physical health, but I took it as a good sign that things are not as bad as they originally seemed.   If I can still run 25 miles a week, how bad of a complication can this be?  (Unless you’re Chris.)

     If things stay on course, I will probably curb my running at the beginning of the third trimester.  As of yesterday, I’ve given up my hope of running until my due date.  The risk is not worth the gain.  It’s during the third trimester that bleeding is more likely with complete previa.  I don’t want to provoke it.  As Coach Mitch says, not being able to run is nothing compared to being stuck in bed.  I believe him. 

     In the meantime, I’m trying to decide what Baby’s birthday should be.  

Ultrasound I

          After obsessing about my ultrasound for a couple weeks, today was finally the day.  The day I would find out if my baby was okay.  The day we’d confirm that there was only one baby in there.  The day we’d find out if we’re having another daughter or a son. 

     Chris picked me up after his morning class and we headed to the clinic.  After checking in, we waited less than 5 minutes for my name to be called.  A short, youngish woman who was both friendly and fast-paced led us to a darkened room.  I struggled to keep up with her.  When we got settled, she promptly started the procedure.  Baby was on the screen as soon as the wand hit my belly.  And man was that baby moving!   Of course I realize that I am pregnant and that there’s a baby in my belly, but there’s something about seeing that baby up on the screen that makes it seem so much more personal and real.  I could feel my priorities shifting as I watched the spine and head dance around the screen.  Our baby was there.  Waving at us and kicking around.  Looking exactly the way a baby is supposed to look at 20 weeks.  All the bones and organs were in the right place and fused correctly.  The heartbeat was lub-dubbing away at 129 beats per minute.  Measurements predicted a current weight of 14 ounces.  It was profound. I'm actually growing a person.  Right now.  

A first look at Baby

     About twenty minutes into the ultrasound, and after a potty break for me, the technician had a clear shot of Baby’s genital region.  She pointed out his scrotum and penis.  That’s how she told us we’re having a boy.  (We’re having a boy!)  In that first moment, I was filled with elation.  I wanted a boy!  But in the next moment, I was sad.  I wanted another Daughter, too.  I wanted both.  Pregnancy hormones aren’t supposed to make sense.  Although, Chris says he felt the same thing I did.  He wanted a boy and a girl, too.  Now that we've had some time to soak it in, we are both ridiculously happy about the healthy baby boy that we’ve made. 

     When I was pregnant with Daughter, we decided not to find out her gender until I delivered.  I found out she was a girl when I was strapped down to the operating table.  This time, I wanted it to be different.  I’m SO glad we decided to find out.  I don’t regret this decision in the least.  I already feel more closely bonded with my lil guy.  I suspected he was a he from the beginning.  Although in my obsessing the last few weeks, my intuition was getting fuzzy.  I'm glad intuition prevailed.  We told Daughter the exciting news after school today and she’s excited to have a little brother.  She’s planning on teaching him how to play . . . when he gets a little bigger, she’ll tell you. 

     There was one minor complication that came up on the scan.  Turns out my placenta is growing right over my cervix, which means the exit is blocked.  It’s called placenta previa.  For baby, it doesn’t matter in the least.  For me, it means I’ll have a few extra scans in the coming weeks to see if the placenta migrates up.  If it doesn’t, I'll have a mandatory C-section.  What’s weird is that I didn’t freak out about that.  As much as I want a VBAC and to hold baby right after he is born, I felt a little relief about a possible required C-section.  Being able to schedule the day that baby is born sounded kind of nice.  Also, not having to worry about my uterus rupturing, well, that doesn’t sound so bad either.  And going without tearing or incontinence.  These all sound like good, good things to me.  I know I have the option of scheduling a section even if my placenta does decide to move out of the way.  I didn’t realize how much I wouldn’t mind one, though, until today.  I’m curious if these feelings will stick with me as my emotions continue to ebb and flow.  I know that Baby will likely not end up in NICU if we plan on a section from the beginning, instead of having one after 2 days of labor like the last time.  And if Baby is not in NICU, that means Baby can be with me.  (I think.  I need to find out more about that.)

     I went running with my club tonight and started sharing news of my baby’s gender.  Everyone is very excited for me and my growing family.  I even saw Victor (of Whistlestop fame) who showed up for the first time in a while.  He told me I’ve grown a lot since I’ve seen him last . . . which was St. Patty’s day, two and a half weeks ago.  I agreed.  I’ve been growing like a weed lately.  I ran almost 5 miles with a gal who’s running a marathon out east this weekend.  It was a great little run.  The weather must have been perfect because I don’t remember being hot or cold. 

     Afterwards, though, I didn’t feel too great.  When I got home, my belly felt tight.  I’ve had this happen after a few runs.  I’m not sure what it is.  I asked Google and it mentioned something about Braxton-Hicks.  The first time it happened, I did think it was a contraction because my belly felt hard.  Contractions don’t seem right to me, though.  It’s not an on and off kind of thing, but a constant tightness.  And it’s always gone by the next day.  I wonder if it’s my ab muscles getting sore from trying to keep my bouncing belly in place.  Whatever it is, I’m not a fan.  But I’m not ready to stop running yet. 

     In summary, a Big Day:  We’re having a boy.  My placenta is too low.  My belly hurts.  I’m still running.